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[darkistmalfoyhead]

You’re My Everything

“Did you see that?”

“What the f-”

“The correct answer is no, no you didn’t. Now walk faster.”

Draco Malfoy grabbed her arm, pulling Hermione into the crowds shuffling the streets of London. There was no time. He didn’t care that muggles could see them and people were staring. If they didn’t go now, she would get hurt.

For shits sake, why of all days did an Auror have to insert their ass into his business. And why, of all people, did it have to be her? Not that he didn’t mind having her around- quite the opposite, really.

More heads were turning. He picked up speed, cursing. It didn’t help that she doubled as a popular figure in the parliament for the Ministry. Or that she was wearing a now-muddy ball gown as they dashed through the sidewalk.

“Draco Malfoy I am going to murder you in five bloody seconds if you don’t tell me what’s going on,”

Her eyes were blazing. A hand shot out, reaching for a seam in her dress. He barely managed to intercept it, lacing her fingers in his.

“If you pull your wand out, in five seconds we’ll both be dead,” he snapped, ignoring the warmth of her skin. Instead, his attention was directed over his shoulder. Ice settled in his stomach as hundreds of leathery, winged creatures exploded into the air behind them.

“Shit,”

“What the hell are those?” she breathed. His hand fumbled for hers and within seconds they were off. Screeching filled the air, unearthly screams following them. This time she ran without complaint.

“They wouldn’t be here if you’d let me finish the damned ritual,” he growled, tugging her into a dank alley. “Thanks to your meddling self, there’s a giant hole between the demonic plane and ours. Climb.”

She stepped up onto the fire escape, quickly scaling the rusted metal.

“I think I ought to ask why you were illegally summoning demons in the first place,”

“And I think you shouldn’t,” he retorted. She smirked, grimly shaking her head.

“Typical you. We go out for drinks on Saturday and once I’m convinced you’re mentally stable, you decide to end the world,”

It was becoming increasingly difficult to not look up her skirts. Apparently Hermione was having similar thoughts because with a loud crack she disappeared, reappearing on the fifth story.

“Put your wand away,” Draco barked, flinching as a deep purple thing swooped over the stairs. He uttered a strangled noise, nearly falling off the fire escape. Hermione amusedly drummed her nails on the brick, waving her wand. With a sudden jerk, he appeared on the roof.

“I just saved your life. If you’re going to take me away from my job of saving those down below, at least try to have some sense in your brain,”

“We’re dead, you idiot,”

She looked at him with confusion.

“Why are we dead? Pray tell me, who do you think is responsible for dragging me onto a roof where demons are trying to claw my face out?”

To make her point, she drily lifted her arm, incinerating a bat-like creature in the swarm above.

He hissed. “Get down. Now.”

“Not this stupid listen-to-my-command-bu-,”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence. Draco tackled her, covering her on the concrete with his body. Hermione flailed and protested beneath him, making him painfully aware of her proximity.

And the screeching began, followed by the whooshing of wings.

“You’d better shut it,” he murmured in her ear. “These things only have one way to stay anchored here. Magic fuels there existence so they need to consume it non-stop. They don’t need your precious muggles. At the moment, the only people who can summon it in the middle of London are us,”

“But I’m a muggleborn,”

Her breath was hot on his cheek. “You just did magic three times, no? The problem with muggleborns is that because they don’t have magic in there blood they instinctively draw in impossible amounts before casting spells. You just let hundreds of fucking demons know that you have what they want.”

She shuddered, her breathing becoming uneven. Her irises dilated with fear. In response, he pressed himself harder against her, covering her face in the crook of his neck.

“You want to stay high,” he continued, his voice becoming hoarse, “Because the wind carries your signature away. If we didn’t keep moving after you apparated, it would have been suicide. And I’m in this ridiculous position because if demons can’t see you, it’s immensely hard for them to find there target,”

He shuddered as the sound of wings thundered closer. She was trembling now, her wand freely rolling away.

“Why do you care?”

He stiffened, fingers digging into the ground.

“I’ve known you for two years and in all that time you hardly ever do anything for anyone. For crying out loud, you missed Pansy’s last birthday to stay at home with your cat,”

His jaw was clenched, firmly tucked over her head as he tried to regain some semblance of control. “Because I don’t have any attachment to anything anymore. So I thought that after I accidentally unleashed hell, I might as well save someone I know,”

He felt her smile into his chest. The sensation caused him to inhale sharply. She did it again.

“At the very least I can say that I’m glad it’s you I’m pressed up against and not the councilman,”

“I’d bash the bloke’s nose in if he went anywhere near you,” he growled.

“Nice to see therapy is helping your violent tendencies,”

Draco smirked, trying to ignore the feeling of claws on his back. Don’t move or they kill you. Don’t speak(he wasn’t doing so well with that one), don’t do magic. He resisted the urge to thank his dead father for his useful advice on killing demon hordes.

“Linda’s great. It’s just the fat bastard isn’t,”

“Mhm,”

Suddenly there was an ear-shattering scream and hundreds upon hundreds of wings flapped around them, the feeling of cold weight on his skin growing worse. He closed his eyes, pressing his nose into her hair.

They were clawing at his body. It was almost like she was too powerful for them to ignore.

“We’re going to die aren’t we?” she whispered, her voice cracking. He squeezed her tighter, covering her eyes so she wouldn’t see his blood. Or the silent screams of pain now etched on his face.

“I suppose I’ll confess my secrets,” Hermione continued, her voice wavering. “I once stuffed Ron’s teddy bear down the toilet because he was being a prat,” This earned her a weak laugh. “And I happen to like you a bit more then I should,”

And in that moment, he froze completely.

“Too much, hm-?”

Draco Malfoy guided her lips against his, ignoring the pain, the noise, the sheer terribleness of the environment around them. He’d wanted her for so, so long that the ache where she was supposed to be had grown into a dull throb. Now it was back but this time it felt like paradise.

She groaned, causing him to growl in response. He pressed himself into her, drinking starlight and parchment.

And then he shielded her between his arms, calmly, sated as the demons ripped away at his clothes, his body. He remained unwavering.

Because it was his fault.

Because she was truly his everything.

Because Hermione Jean Granger was worth more then his life.

He remembered her cries, her pleas for him to wake up. The weight began to leave his body as his blood spread around her, smothering her scent.

All was quiet. Draco Malfoy died smiling with his hair stained crimson.

[darkistmalfoyhead]

Drqco trying to impress Hermione's parents?? Please???

My life became crazy busy over the summer so headcanoning skills have declined from disuse but I hope you enjoy ☺️

Hermione cheerfully informs Draco that her parents are coming for dinner. He spits out his tea on the floor, wheezing.

He goes into full-on panic mode, frantically vacuuming, dusting and fluffing pillows left and right. Bean, the puppy, and Crookshanks are taking refugee in the bedroom as tens of stacks of papers and books that Hermione has accumulated are being levitated around the house.

She has to restrain him with after he starts cleaning the broom closet. He sags into her arms, letting her sit him down on the couch.

Yet five minutes before they arrive, he’s desperately quizzing himself on the rules of rugby and there favorite colors.

They eat dinner together. Draco serves five (home cooked)courses, all the while doing his best to figure out what dentists were(torturers of children, obviously).

He nearly runs out the door with embarrassment when Ms. Granger declines his Yorkshire Pudding because she’s lactose intolerant. It takes all three of them to reassure Draco, patting his head and telling him how delicious his cooking was.

Afterwords, Draco finds himself stiffly sitting on the couch with Mr. Granger as he watches rugby. When asked if he can play, he smiles and nods, ready to provide an extensive list of rules. Hermione laughs her head off as her father says ‘are you sure, stick boy?’

At the end of the night, he’s so clammed up that he tells them ‘good morning’ instead of goodbye and ‘sneeze you next time’ in place of see you next time. He freezes after Ms. Granger hugs him, telling Hermione over his shoulder that he’s a keeper.

He sits curled up next to Hermione on the couch, feeling rather victorious, as she plays with his hair.

[darkistmalfoyhead]

If You Touched Her Pt.2

Pt. 1 *Content warning- implied non/con* yes, there will be a pt.3 *sighs in dead soul language*

His breath caught at the sight of her, ignoring the warm stream of blood leaking from his nose. She was rubbing her eyes blearily as Ron dashed into the bedroom. He would deal with him properly as soon as possible.

Hermione groaned, rolling her neck.

And at that moment he froze. Because he saw the way her eyes widened with fear when she saw the jersey.

He saw her clasp her wrist.

And, dear lord, the look she gave him was one of such agony, confusion and relief it made him want to tug her into his arms. Yet he was still too lost in his own swirling anger to feel happy that she trusted him enough to be her anchor.

“You’re bleeding,” Hermione croaked, stumbling off the couch. He clenched his jaw at the though of the coward in his bedroom, striding over to catch her by the arm.

“And you’re jet lagged,” The gentleness in his voice surprised him.

She swallowed. He knew what was coming next and so terribly wanted to laugh and slit the bastard’s throat. She didn’t deserve this, not after all the pain she’d endured.

“For someone with stupidly good fashion sense, you seemed to have gone off the deep end with this,”

Hermione smiled weakly. He couldn’t return it.

Why are you here?

Why am I at Ron’s?

Those were the true questions she conveyed with her eyes, terror growing in them every second. She paled, hand shaking when he didn’t acknowledge her.

“You didn’t do this, did you?” Hermione breathed. Draco shook his head, trembling with rage as he pulled her into his arms, letting her bury her face in his chest. She was hyperventilating now, and he reflexively squeezed her so tightly that his biceps strained against the pressure.

He was going to kill Weasley. He of all people knew how badly she’d been violated three years ago. Draco felt bile rise in his throat as he carried her back to the couch, wrapping her tightly in a blanket. Her hand was still clasped in his, even as she curled up into a tight little ball. His eyes were heavy as he watched her rock back and forth, trapped in a horror scape he couldn’t reach.

Bellatrix hadn’t just paid her a visit in the drawing room. Yaxley, Dolohov and Carrow all got there turns as well. He had spent the next week trying to vanquish images of her half clothed and just lying there on the floor.

No one understood. Ginny and Pansy always ridiculed him for being ‘stupidly overprotective’ because he wouldn’t let anyone in the car or the girls locker room when she was changing, or would stand, patiently waiting outside the bathrooms when she was in the facilities. It had taken over a year before Hermione felt comfortable in front of him, but this was still in underclothes.

It wasn’t because he was overprotective or territorial or any other sort of bullshit. It was because she had a gaping wound that wouldn’t ever close because of him. And she had become so vulnerable because of it he had to do everything he could to make her feel safe otherwise he was terrified that she would lose her to the demons that hovered over her.

They stayed on the couch for two whole hours, Draco’s mouth crushed against her ear as he murmured desperate words of love.

That was before the bedroom door creaked open.

[darkistmalfoyhead]

If You Touched Her

“Jet lag,” He repeated with horror. “Is that some kind of disease?”

Dear god. It took all of his self-control to not scream at that idiot.

“Lighten up, will you? She’s passed out on Ron’s couch, re-,”

The call was ended, the phone tossed across the living room. Draco Malfoy slowly slid down against the wall, cursing. Jet lag, he mouthed. Stupid Granger and her love of muggle travel.

He should’ve never let her on a plane in the first place, knowing very well everything that could go wrong. The fatality rates combined with Hermione’s accident-prone self was going to kill both of them. Draco was already worried enough about sending his girlfriend on a trip with two very single, very male friends. He’d only parted with her because he had been told she was staying with Harry. Yet that idiot couldn’t be trusted because now she was unconscious in her ex’s condo.

Running a hand through disheveled hair, he closed his eyes, jaw tense. He wanted to apparate over right this instant to the little gathering in Honolulu.

Possibly because every cell in his body was screaming for him to get Weasley the hell away from her. His hands became fists, blood pounding in his ears.

She was passed out on the bastard’s couch.

“Tch,”

As if he was going to leave her with ginger boy.

The phone was summoned, the butler informed that his cat would need to be fed while he was gone. The hallway mirror showed a stranger, one garbed in sweats and a green sweatshirt. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, his hair in a sad, mused state. He tried cocking an agonized smile before easing into a comfortable frown.

It was rather hard to be happy when the reason why you wake up in the morning is seventeen hours across the globe.

Ron Weasley spit out his cereal when Draco, in all his weekend glory, appeared in front of him. His face was tight with worry, him doing his best to ignore ginger completely. Yet he was filled with something else when he saw Hermione sprawled across the patterned couch. Draco let out a relieved sigh when he saw that she was alright. By the looks of it, she was sleeping.

He shook his head in fond annoyance, leaning his elbows on the back. Just ten minutes ago he’d been having nightmarish visions- her drugged, dying, kidnapped. His list went on and on.

Tentatively moving closer, Draco disregarded Ron’s flurry of motion behind him. He inhaled sharply. Her clothes.

She was only wearing a garish orange Chudley Cannons jersey. It was emblazoned with ‘WEASLEY’, 07 and it reeked of sweat and spice.

Forget blasted muggle ailments. Draco dropped his neck, hair falling over his face. His normally careful breathing became ragged, eyes filling with a deadly calm.

Hermione hated orange and loathed quidditch even more. Not only did she harbor resentment for the way it turned everyone into ‘cahooting hooligans’, she was fed up with constant arguments between houses at meals. After her little friends and his group fought constantly over which pitch she’d sit in, she’d stopped coming to games altogether.

The last signed Chudley Cannons jersey that Ron had sent ended up in the garbage.

What was being implied…It was impossible but this was the same man who forced her to wear her Yule Ball dress days after humiliating her at the dance, Hermione spinning a few times to gain his forgiveness after going with Krum. This was hours after the red-head had confessed his ‘undying love’.

Draco slowly turned around, lifting his head to study the bastard. He was offered a smile. Except it wasn’t one of warmth and pleasantries. It was cool, challenging. One that sang, I can play this game too.

But it wasn’t a game. At the end of eighth year, she had to choose. And she picked him.

If he laid his hands on her-

Everything was too warm, the fluorescent lights blinding in the dingy condo. He resisted the urge to pull of his sweatshirt, trembling in the wash of it all.

No one touched her, hurt her or forced her against her will. That was the oath he’d made after the night he’d watched her scream until her voice gave out.

Until she coughed up blood. And when she regained some semblance of speech, she begged like an animal to make the pain go away. The fiery, head-strong girl replaced with someone broken beyond comparison. Draco blinked rapidly, forcing away the suffocating memories. Stupid anger management classes. They were wholly ineffective because in a split second he strode forward, slamming Weasly against the fridge. Fistfuls of red fabric from his shoulders were bunched his hands, Ron frozen in shock.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” His expression became mixed with confusion and anger, milk sloshing on his shirt from his cereal bowl. Draco leaned forward, his mouth centimeters away from his ear.

“You have five seconds to explain what you did with her clothes,” He murmured, voice raw with fury, “Or I will destroy you in the most painful way possible,”

Weasley’s fist swung at his face, cheeks flushed.

And at that moment Hermione stirred.

[darkistmalfoyhead]

Shorts- Draco Fluff

Draco slipping into Hermione’s apartment to find her asleep on the sofa, his sweatshirt covering her curled body like a blanket

At first he just stands there, mortified that she’s putting his post-run, sweat-soaked hoodie that close to her nose

Crookshanks staring as he covers his flushed face with the back of his hand, his eyes warm because it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen

He lets out a small, exasperated huff, smiling and shaking his head before sitting on the floor beside her. Draco hugs his knees, quietly fingering loose strands of caramel hair

[darkistmalfoyhead]

Self Control, Shirts, and the Boss’s Daughter

Hermione Granger breezing by his desk without a second thought, stopping as she realized that he had caught one of her fallen papers.

There relationship had been simple back then. Manager and an employee, the untouchable boss’s daughter.

Weeks later she’d spilled coffee on her blouse, proceeding to walk around the office in an undershirt. He hadn’t known why he’d pulled her into his office, roughly pulling off his own garment before realizing that he could’ve just given her his spare.

At the time he hadn’t wanted to admit that he couldn’t bear watching the rest of the male staff stare at her exposed frame. Or that watching her walk around in his clothes made him so shamefully delighted.

Her shaking against his chest, fistfuls of his shirt in her hands. He’d wrapped his arms around her then, praying that his self-control would stay in it’s chains.

It nearly snapped against the sinful sound of her heavy breaths, the feel of them driving him insane. He wondered how different it would be if he had caused them and not her forsaken asthma.

Two days after a fencing class he’d drove her home from work. And hell, it undid him when her fingers slipped under his shirt, running over mottled bruises after she noticed him wince.

And now his boss was visiting his wife who was modeling out of town. Leaving him in control of the office and all of it’s employees. Including the woman who accepted his invitation to a casual dinner and became intoxicated after one glass. He’d carried her to his apartment after sighting her overprotective brother, wondering what he was doing after she began rambling about how beautiful it was that swans could be gay. Then she drunkenly confessed that she wanted him.

It took every shred of gentlemanly decency he had to not give her what she asked for.

Draco Malfoy lay wide awake in bed, fingers desperately threaded through his mused hair. Memories of the last six months raced through his mind, his eyes haunted with desire for what he knew he shouldn’t have. But oh, he wanted it quite badly.

“Fuck,”

[darkistmalfoyhead]

Accidental Kidnapping & Long Sighs

Hermione is perched on the desk, her eyes glazed with calm as she downs liquor from a decanter. His finest bourbon, to be exact.

Draco can handle this. He watched those normally carefull hands drop the crystalline bottle without even flinching when it shattered. Liquid gold spread across the carpet. He worriedly ran his fingers through his hair.

This was not a part of the scheduled workday. Normally he would be reading his employees reports while eating dinner, a glass of port by his side.

Normally Hermione Granger did not run into his office with blood splattered across her blouse, skirt in tatters. In fact, on most days she didn’t even look at him.

Now here they were, Draco frozen by the door as this woman indulges herself without even giving him a second glance. It was only after she dropped the second decanter did he finally figure out how to use his mouth.

What are you doing? His voice was strangled, growing increasingly uncomfortable as she smiled. Social interaction with the female population at the Ministry was something he avoided after a green woman with scales tried to ask him out.

What’s it to you?

Oh, that was it. All Draco wanted was to apparate home, have the butler draw him a bath and eat steak and potatoes to Beethoven. And now this nefarious woman barges in, consumes all of his bourbon and then kicks off her heels on his desk.

He tried to look away from the mesmerizing waves of hair that fell down her back. Her slumped shoulders and his hands weren’t going to be very good friends. He still questions his sanity to this day after what he did next.

With a sudden burst of speed, he swiftly grabbed her and apparated them both to his flat.

If she was going to be a hindrance, at the very least it would be dealt with in the comfort of his home.

Where the hell did you just take me? She gasped, attempting to move away from him. Instead she managed to stumble to the left and fall right on top of him.

Draco became acutely aware of how little she was wearing. Was it a good time to mention that the reason he didn’t associate with her was because she often times managed to get him into uncomfortable situations?

Her hair was spilled across his chest, murmurs of something escaping her mouth. Except she wasn’t talking to him at all.

Tch. Of course she had to pass out on top of him. Draco flatly gazed at his co-worker, sighing as he contemplated her state. It would be rather rude to leave her here considering that he practically kidnapped her. So, being the civilized gentleman that he was, Draco gently moved her to the floor so he could stand up. Pillows and blankets were fetched by his butler while he carried her over to the couch. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he noticed a splotch of drool on his dress shirt. Some things couldn’t be helped.

Yet hours later he guiltily sat in the bathtub, thinking about the woman in her tattered clothes. She had blood flecked across her chest and he hadn’t even bothered to see if it was hers.

He met Doom Slayer in the eye. She meowed, giving him what appeared to be a glare before slinking out of the room. Even his cat thought he was incompetent.

The water was promptly drained, a silk bathrobe hastily pulled on before he ran down the stairs. She lay there on the couch, a faint smile on her face.

The blood appeared to have dried so it couldn’t be hers. Sighing, he slumped against the side of the couch, stray locks of hair brushing his nose. He didn’t know why she was stained with red or what made her raid his supply of alcohol.

But it wouldn’t hurt if he slept down here with her, right? Draco tentatively laid down on the carpet, silently apologizing to his king sized mattress upstairs. Maybe it was too late to mention that he got into awkward situations with Ms. Granger because the last time he saw her he ran into a wall. He closed his eyes, trying to squash rebellious thoughts about if she wanted waffles or eggs for breakfast.

And Doom Slayer sat on his face.

[darkistmalfoyhead]

Small Things- House Pride

Draco slipping green items into the Gryffindor common room whenever he visits Hermione. Harry pelting emerald socks at him in the hallways that had been collected by the house-elves.

Hermione in turn dressing the Slytherin’s in red. Theo is already infatuated with her and Zabini secretly finds her company to be enjoyable. Draco loosing his mind when he finds Nott happily prancing in front of the mirror in a burgundy waist coat.

Yet he is grudgingly roped into this mess when Hermione knits him a scarlet muffler. He can’t bring himself to take off the misshapen thing after he was informed that she spent three sleepless nights on it, pricking her fingers on numerous occasions. There rivalry was interrupted by an unnecessary trip to the infirmary, Draco stubbornly refusing to let her leave until her hands healed.

Hermione is absolutely sick of quidditch- the boys constantly pull at her arm, yelling and tugging for her to sit with the lions or join the snakes. To the five’s dismay, they found themselves locked in a locker room by Hermione, who adamantly refused to let them out until they stopped playing tug-a-war.

She kept her word. They missed half of there first match, the group meekly facing the wrath of Madame Hooch. It was mutually decided that she would trade off every other game.

[darkistmalfoyhead]

A silver trio and H sleepover? YES PLEASEEEEE!!

It would be in the Slytherin common room because there was no way in hell the boys were going to pass of the chance to flaunt there house pride. They may or may not have gotten all the first years to polish the place up, the trio of prefects threatening to hand out detentions. Hermione coming over in her scarlet pajamas, confused why everything looked so shiny and nice.

After a few sips of spiked butter beer the four turn into a bunch of gossips. Zabini, the one who always looks like he doesn’t give a damn about others petty problems, shocking everyone with his knowledge of scandalous tidbits of information.

To Hermione’s extreme embarrassment, the boys yell at anyone who enters the common room to ‘get the hell out’ because they have a guest. All it takes is one look at Draco’s murderous glare and the poor students run to there rooms.

Theo with a scraggly, purple stuffed dragon. Draco mercilessly teasing him until to his horror, Nott procures his snake plushie cleverly tucked under a blanket. He’s blushing angrily, refusing to speak as Hermione laughs. Yet he forgets his anger, his heart melting a little when she plants a small kiss on the snake.

They all go to sleep near the flickering green flames, the boys arranged in a protective circle around Hermione. She’s fast asleep, Draco’s fingers twined with hers. Yet if a passerby so much whispers a slur or looks at her with disgust, three pairs of mavolent eyes shoot open, threatening to destroy them in every way possible. No one’s going to call her a mudblood on there watch.

Just the silver trio and Hermione being best buds makes my heart so happy☺️

[darkistmalfoyhead]

The Homework Club

Kinda a tangent off the previous post but man I love this concept;

Draco, Theodore and Blaise are failing horribly in Arithmancy. Malfoy is definitely not taking advantage of the fact that his girlfriend is the smartest witch in school.

They meet every Thursday in the library. The trio of boys lazily enchanting paper airplanes and resting there feet on the table until Hermione slides them off with a flick of her wand

Long hours of staring at textbooks, Hermione trying to teach the bunch geometry. She tiredly wonders what in the hell she’s doing when after Blaise takes twenty minutes to find the area of a square.

They gradually improve as Hermione offers rewards. She grudgingly blows her monthly savings at Honeydukes for the boys despite the fact that they’re the richest kids in school. Theo is a fan of Acid Pops.

Draco’s motivation is a bit different. Late nights of studying end with muffled protests and clothes on the floor. Ron screaming when he finds Draco smugly showering in the Gryffindor dormitory, humming to the Weird Sister’s.

And after the trio takes gets there first O on an Arithmancy exam, they proudly parade the papers around Hermione in the hallway, the biggest grins on there faces.

In celebration there is a sleepover of sorts in the Slytherin dormitory. Spiked Butterbeer is passed around, the three toasting to Hermione’s brilliant mind. She downs a bottle to hide her blush. The group laughing as she sputters, everyone lounging under a few blankets near the hearth.

Would y’all be interested in a Hermione and the silver trio sleepover…?

[darkistmalfoyhead]

Threats & Homework Answers

Draco Malfoy can’t seem to intimidate that insufferable, brown-haired girl into helping him. He tried threatening to kill her and raze her bloodline to the ground if she didn’t give him the homework answers in Charms. Hermione punched him in the jaw.

The trio of boys try everything- they need high marks to avoid getting disowned. Each attempt to seduce her on multiple occasions, flashing cocky grins and promises of a broom closet.

Draco managed to make her blush after remarking how he wished he could get scores like her’s. It was considered a win- she shrieked when Theo pinned her against a wall.

Now the whole school gets second-hand embarrassment as he runs through the halls, desperately complimenting her about her hair, essay and even the muffin she ate for breakfast. It was a rather magnificent shade of yellow.

Eventually she confronts him, the two angry and flushed in an empty classroom. So when he grumpily admitted that he needed her help with Potions, he was shocked that she didn’t say no.

Fast forward to long study sessions late at night, Draco fiddling with papers while Hermione slaps his hand to focus. They nearly get caught by Filch on multiple occasions. The pair running through the castle, hiding in the oddest places while Hermione wonders what she’s doing.

And when he gets full marks on his exam, he’s grinning like a fool because he’s going to live another day. He barges into Hermione’s Transfiguration class while it’s ending, proudly holding up his paper. She congratulates him but after the class laughs, her included, he embarrassedly shoves the paper in his bag, refusing to look at her until she showers him with praise.

[darkistmalfoyhead]

hermione is TA in another class and gets revenge on draco

Hermione is immediately appointed by McGonagall just a week since Draco was picked for Snape. After acting like a smug bastard with his privileges, she‘s quite done. Points are grimly docked if;

Her boyfriend is too handsome for her to be around without blushing (Nott and Zabini will smear mud in his hair before Transfiguration despite Draco’s threats to jinx them)

Horrible pickup lines. Despite loosing fifty points, he still adamantly goes at it

Or if he does something really, really stupid. Last week he transfigured all of her clothes green which earned himself a detention. This ‘detention’ ended with a furtive Hermione pressed against a desk, Draco and his wolffish grin on top of her.

Severus found them. He wasn’t happy.

Hermione subbing for McGonagall. Draco keeps raising his hand and incessantly flirting with her. His smug expression becomes one of horror when she grimly assigns him a four-foot essay on proper conduct around his superiors.

He fills it with smiley faces and his bucket list of R rated things he’d like to do with her. It was graded by McGonagall.

[darkistmalfoyhead]

Potions Teacher Assistant AU

Loving this concept- if you want more, feel free to ask.

TA Malfoy with loose, white shirts and roguish grins that drive Hermione insane. She’s always garbed in rumpled blouses, trading skirts for skinny jeans and her hair sticking out of her bun no matter what she does.

Points docked in potions for ‘not kissing me goodbye at breakfast’. This earns him a smack on the head with a book

He’ll spend half the class flatly boring his eyes into the back of her head, taking points from Gryffindor if she didn’t eat or get enough sleep. Everyone in her house forcing Hermione to go to bed at nine because they don’t want to face Draco’s wrath. It’s a team effort to pry textbooks out of her hands

And boy, when he’s mad, Draco gets pissed. His eyes glitter with rage as he calmly approaches the latest group of offenders. He will malevolently issue detentions and take at least fifty points from each student, threatening them with a smile to fail them on there next homework assignments

He likes to draw little smiley faces on Hermione’s papers when he grades. She’ll flip through her latest potions test, smirking lovingly in front of the boys (who are confused as hell) because the blob-like faces are so cute

Or he’ll slip a random thing(mostly awful pickup lines) on her paper before passing it out. It’ll start with something seemingly random like ‘there’s how many letters in the alphabet?’. Hermione turns in her assignment five times during the class just to furiously talk to him. It’s something along the lines of;

26? are you dumb?

Ah- u r a q t :)

Try again. 25.

I forgot the d ;). I’ll give it t-

The rest of this conversation was furiously scratched out by Hermione.

[darkistmalfoyhead]

Winter & A Shared Flat

Draco piling Hermione with hats and coats before sending her outside, flatly telling her that if she’s going to get a bloody cold, it won’t be on his watch.

She falls off the porch steps because her arms are pinned beneath the layers of clothing. Draco frantically rushing outside, muttering how she is still a safety hazard while she looks like a giant marshmallow.

Clumps of snow pelted at one another. Hermione sends one flying into his precious hair. Draco grabbing her, refusing to let her go while attempting to mash snow on her head. They’re stumbling around the yard, laughing like drunken idiots when the mail man stops by.

A snow-covered Hermione pushed into a hot shower. Draco won’t let her out until she stops shivering, threatening to come in there if she won’t warm up properly. A muffled shout of ‘I wouldn’t mind’. Draco is left blushing on the bed, his face in his hands.

[darkistmalfoyhead]

Stolen Shirts

Hermione stealing Draco’s shirts because she loves the way they smell. Some morning’s he’ll get up for work and discover the dress shirt he wants is gone.

Furious banging on Hermione’s door followed by shouts regarding how he’ll murder her if he has to go to work half-naked because she took all the decent things he has to wear. She’s attempting to avert her eyes as she hands him an ironed stack of crisp, white shirts, trying to ignore the beautiful swirls of black inked across his torso and over his left arm.

He catches her staring and tenses in worry. She probably thinks he’s a freak for having roses and serpents instead of the normal skulls and whatnot. Instead he goes crimson when she admits how she can’t stop admiring them because of how she’s never seen anything like it. She reaches out to touch them and then freezes in embarrassment.

Both of them are blushing horribly and after Hermione retreats back into her apartment, Draco walks face-first into his door, still clutching the shirts to his chest. He has the biggest grin on his face, lovingly inhaling the new scent clinging to the fabric.

Throughout the whole day he has this foolish smile because Granger likes his tattoos. Zabini asking him if he’s ill because he found him humming in the bathroom.

[darkistmalfoyhead]

A Scream- Nightmares

Draco,

It was a cry. His head shot up, the freshly made mug of coffee left on the counter. It was midnight as the clock struck twelve. He stumbled through the darkened hallway, desperately trying to reach her.

I’m here, he whispered, shakily clasping her hand. Shuddering, he pressed his nose into her hair. It was a strange sight, a boy with shining scars and twisting tattoos bowed over the seemingly fragile figure.

Draco,

I’m here, he tried again. She was talking in her sleep again. It was all his fault for taking her to Malfoy Manor for dinner. Reaching out, he slid his fingers through her hair.

PLEASE DON’T HURT ME,

A scream. He recoiled. His blood ran cold, a sharp intake of breath mixing with despair. It didn’t matter that she loved him. He would always be a monster for letting his aunt touch her, watching as the only person who was able to look upon him without hate writhed in agony.

The only thing he could do was listen to her hoarse murmurs as tears fell out of his wide, anguished eyes. And those four words played through his mind till dawn.

[darkistmalfoyhead]

White Quill

It’s starting to get annoying how I appear to be the only competent person in this school, Draco drawled, several papers littered with O’s and A’s used as a makeshift fan. Theo and Blaise nodded along.

Until for the first time since he’d come to Hogwarts a witch outranked him in all his classes. Her assignments were smattered with ‘Outstanding’, teachers constantly applauding her efforts with the grins that were normally reserved for him. It was awful in the hallways- the whole bloody school was filled with talk of the ‘genius’.

And when he found out she was a muggleborn he felt quite ready to curl up into a ball and die of shame. Father would flay him alive if he discovered he was being bested by such a low-ranking creature.

Nott and Zabini were soon deftly dragged to the library, a grim Malfoy determined to study his ass off until he could recite a textbook in his sleep. His plans were ruined when he spied that infuriating girl hunched over a small table.

He hadn’t even met her but her very appearance bothered him- she needed a bottle of Squeakseys for that hair. Theo had run off to the bathroom, Zabini glumly closed his eyes while reclining in an armchair.

That was the last straw. He needed to be at the top or he would bring shame to his family if he was beaten by that muggle born. Draco strode forward and grabbed the girl’s arm, dragging her behind a bookshelf before proceeding to pin her body to the unit.

Listen here, he snarled. He was close enough to smell that accursed hair- it was actually quite nice. You’re a piece of filthy scum who shouldn’t even be looking at me. Do yourself a favor and tell me how in the hell you’re getting perfect marks,

Her eyes were wide. It made sense, he supposed because she was pressed flush against him in the restricted section. Any girl would be delighted to be in the position she was in. Yet those liquid, brown pupils were filled with something else.

Fire. Oh, sh-

That was all he could think before a knee shot out and obliterated his manhood. He doubled over, gasping in pain as the girl flatly ducked out from under him.

First of all, she seethed, This ‘filthy scum’ has a name. And if you think you’re a special snowflake, take the stick out of your ass and look around. I study, you moron. Nothing special. Except half-assed jerks like you think harassing woman is a better past time and then you wonder why the hell you’re marks are so bad in the first place,

She was panting, her fists balled in rage. He was filled with fury- how dare she talk to him like that. Draco watched her stalk away, pick up a book, and then begin fiercely scribbling notes. Her quill broke from the sheer pressure of her hand. It was flung into the fireplace.

Sighing, he combed his fingers through his hair. His actions had been brash and she would be vital to keeping fathers wrath to a minimum.

He hated apologizing.

A crisp, white quill was tossed onto her desk. The girl looked at him suspiciously before tentatively picking it up. Yet before turning away, she scrawled ‘JERK’ on a piece of parchment that could be seen from three desks away. Where he was sprawled out in a chair.

Oh, she was interesting indeed.

What’s your name? She shot him that intense, cool stare. He was starting to see how this could end up being amusing. Although it was a bit hard to forgive her for kneeing him.

Hermione Granger,

Well, then, he said, drily pointing at himself. I’m Draco Malfoy,

This was going to be interesting indeed.