grangerisadanger

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“Glances” 📚

I felt like drawing something pretty.

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“Not inside, do you hear?”

-“Wouldn’t dream of it, Granger”

A/N: he would and he does.

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MAGDALEN&A.K

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Tiny snippet of a meeting in The Room of Requirement 🗝️

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Hermione had gotten used to going barefoot around the tower; magic was really quite marvelous, there were enchanted tools keeping it tidy, and Hermione supposed she had started going mad the day she began chatting to the broom and duster that flitted around keeping away the dust.

But glass was no joke. She looked around, finding her rarely-used slippers and sliding her feet into them to protect her soles as she crossed to check on the woman for herself.

"Good," she fretted, checking Taylor's back to be sure she had no cuts she wasn't aware of yet. "How did you get up here? It feels like I'm in the clouds sometimes." Taylor's remarks on the tower itself made her snort. "I haven't even a clue who has me here," she confessed. She grabbed the letter from its usual place on one of her bookshelves, offering it to Taylor. "They left this one day one, and since then it's just been me, magic, and my books."

Six months. Hermione winced, imagining her poor father worrying over her. He was protective, since her mother had died when she was young, and he had never been inclined to remarry just to father more children. Hermione was his pride.

"I knew there was unrest, but I didn't expect open war," Hermione sighed. "I'm glad that they didn't just kill me, it would have destroyed him."

This seemed to be actually happening. Hermione brightened and nodded, hurrying to get a silk satchel from the chaise lounge. "Yes--this book, the stories have become a comfort to me....and this one, it was empty, I've been journaling...."

Suddenly she registered something that she had never heard before; footsteps, seemingly rising from below them, towards the door that stood across the room from her and had been solidly locked since the start. Hermione jerked, looking around at Taylor wide-eyed. "I didn't think anyone else was even in the tower!"

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The really frustrating thing about the entire business was that Hermione had no idea why someone had issue with her father. She had never seen her captors, either.

She had been taken at night, and she assumed it was magic that had made her sleep, or forget how she had gotten here....and now, this was her world. A large circular room of stone with a single window, which had enchantments so that she could open it for fresh air, but it was no means of escape. As if it could be; she appeared to be hundreds of feet up from the ground below, as well.

It was not uncomfortable. She had a little kitchen, and the tower clearly had magic in every element, as the foods and drinks she desired always appeared. There was a cozy little loft bedroom, a luxurious bathing chamber, and to Hermione's enormous relief there was even bookcases filled with stories. So she was not bored, and not neglected.

She was simply alone. She had only one explanation, a letter that she had found on the first day advising her that the magic would prevent her leaving and not to try, and that she would be safe so long as her father complied. Nothing more threatening than that, and no follow up.

Hermione couldn't really track the time passing. Mornings, evenings, night, all passed, and she watched the wildflowers from the window, wondering what she was waiting for.

And then everything changed with a quite literal crash.

Hermione was at the table, her favorite book of fairytales open but ignored beside a cup of tea that had grown cold, when the glass of the window shattered inward. She leapt her feet with a gasp, staring in amazement at the young woman who straightened up and shook herself off, introducing herself cheerfully.

"O-oh!" Hermione said, blinking rapidly. "I mean, that's wonderful, thank the gods, but--are you alright? Did you cut yourself? The window has enchantments, I can't believe you managed to break it." She inched forward. "Who send you to rescue me? My father? How long have I been imprisoned here?"

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Autumn Dramione🍂

Art commission for rus ff “Pen Pals” written by xasta

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Hermione may not have begun getting flustered by everything that her opposite-sex peers did in third year, like the boys...nor had she been nearly so tongue-tied and prone to tripping over her words in fourth. That Harry and Ron had been so panicky about the Yule Ball had bemused her endlessly--though, as Draco had wryly pointed out, she had had no qualms planning to go alone, prior to Viktor's unexpected interest.

But Frank....Frank was different. And as they'd shared worry for Harry, for the entire mess of the Tournament, they had grown closer. Hermione hadn't seen it as anything more than a deepening friendship--and then he had kissed her, and it felt as if her world had flipped over.

Now she could not imagine not feeling this fluttering sensation when she saw him, her heart beating faster, her skin warm. She just wanted to be with him, constantly, to know he was there and safe.

"Did we?" She checked her watch, and sighed. "No wonder my stomach feels tight. Come on, we can swing by and visit Dobby, and take some sandwiches into the bell tower courtyard." She closed her book decisively, tidying the homework into her bag.

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Preparing for their O.W.L.s was nightmarish. Hermione was more than used to studying as if it was her paid career, late into the nights and then before dawn after a mere few hours' rest, food a secondary thought just to continue fueling the brain, miles of parchment of notes scattered all around her wherever she was....it was, in a sense, her element.

But this was damned brutal. Even she was lagging, forced to occasionally stop and choose sleep or even just a walk in the fresh air over continuing reading as her eyes burned, and she was not the only high-achieving one feeling it. Draco and Frank were just as frazzled.

And that could cut through the white noise in her head. Because taking care of him? That came more naturally than caring for herself. Or even studying, as shocking as that felt.

When she broke his focus and he held out his hand distractedly, Hermione took it, and then grinned when it took him a moment to register what she'd done. When he finally looked over at her, blinking owlishly and then catching up, and smiling, she grinned back smugly.

"It's one of my charms," she agreed airily, lifting their linked hands to press his fingers to her cheek. "You look glazed over. We ought to take a break--get coffee or food, take a walk?"

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A sort of remake of an old comic I did years ago, but with more context and whole lot more of Draco’s cute bum 😛🍑

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Frank Hardy x Hermione Granger Ship Aesthetics

I wouldn't know where to start Sweet music playin' in the dark Be still my foolish heart Don't ruin this on me

@minxchester / @grangerisadanger

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8th year Titanic sequence crossover 🚢

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I commissioned @ivmaruva to create a piece inspired by chapter eleven of  Against Nostalgia, and I’m obsessed with the way this piece came out. It’s just so hot! It’s been incredible from the very first sketch, and I’m so excited to share it with all of you.

Against Nostalgia is a novel-length Dramione fic where Draco and Hermione are both professors at Hogwarts. Come for the slow burn and the dark academia and stay for the steam 🔥

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in the mood for film noir

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“It’s time to get up, love.”

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”Keep quiet Granger, or they’ll kill us both.”

I really can’t stick to one art style💁🏼‍♀️

CLICK ON IT FOR BETTER QUALITY

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malfoy kiss 10/10