#collaborative space implementation

[interiorergonomics]

Custom-Made Office Furniture In Collaborative Spaces

The superiority of custom-made office furniture shines in its ability to optimize collaborative spaces for enhanced functionality, flexibility and creativity. The best of it is leveraging technology integration to match the dynamic needs of the modern business

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[searchingforserendipity25]

i am sure this has been written before, but i am beset by the notion of garak the plain and simple tailor who IS a plain and simple tailor.

regular cardassian fashion mogul with a thriving company who thrives on gossip and the ruthlessness of the industry. gets involved into a scheme re: dukat senior, a pair of pants with secret pockets, and several state secrets and gets duly exiled about it.

the fact that he's tain's extremely traumatized illegitimate son doesn't change.

it's not sentiment that keeps tain from turning him into an obsidian order operative, he is simply too aware of the usefulness of having a readily available source on the high-end service class inside sphere of of powerful society. very, very useful - especially when it comes to stitching listening and recording devices, secret armor and protective fibers, slow-acting poison...

instead of being sent to bamarren he goes to cardassia's best tradesmen boarding school, which is not, all things considered, less competitive or soul-sucking or dangerous to life and limb than bamarren.

the wire? typically implemented on civilian-adjacent collaborators of the obsidian order.

in conclusion: if deep space nine's only tolerable human wants to role play spy-and-ingenue over lunch, elim garak, three times the cover for the equivalent of the kardasi'or vogue, is bored and high and frankly into it enough to go for it.

[astra-ravana]

Technomancy: The Fusion Of Magick And Technology

Technomancy is a modern magickal practice that blends traditional occultism with technology, treating digital and electronic tools as conduits for energy, intent, and manifestation. It views computers, networks, and even AI as extensions of magickal workings, enabling practitioners to weave spells, conduct divination, and manipulate digital reality through intention and programming.

Core Principles of Technomancy

• Energy in Technology – Just as crystals and herbs carry energy, so do electronic devices, circuits, and digital spaces.

• Code as Sigils – Programming languages can function as modern sigils, embedding intent into digital systems.

• Information as Magick – Data, algorithms, and network manipulation serve as powerful tools for shaping reality.

• Cyber-Spiritual Connection – The internet can act as an astral realm, a collective unconscious where digital entities, egregores, and thought-forms exist.

Technomantic Tools & Practices

Here are some methods commonly utilized in technomancy. Keep in mind, however, that like the internet itself, technomancy is full of untapped potential and mystery. Take the time to really explore the possibilities.

Digital Sigil Crafting

• Instead of drawing sigils on paper, create them using design software or ASCII art.

• Hide them in code, encrypt them in images, or upload them onto decentralized networks for long-term energy storage.

• Activate them by sharing online, embedding them in file metadata, or charging them with intention.

Algorithmic Spellcasting

• Use hashtags and search engine manipulation to spread energy and intent.

• Program bots or scripts that perform repetitive, symbolic tasks in alignment with your goals.

• Employ AI as a magickal assistant to generate sigils, divine meaning, or create thought-forms.

Digital Divination

• Utilize random number generators, AI chatbots, or procedural algorithms for prophecy and guidance.

• Perform digital bibliomancy by using search engines, shuffle functions, or Wikipedia’s “random article” feature.

• Use tarot or rune apps, but enhance them with personal energy by consecrating your device.

Technomantic Servitors & Egregores

• Create digital spirits, also called cyber servitors, to automate tasks, offer guidance, or serve as protectors.

• House them in AI chatbots, coded programs, or persistent internet entities like Twitter bots.

• Feed them with interactions, data input, or periodic updates to keep them strong.

The Internet as an Astral Plane

• Consider forums, wikis, and hidden parts of the web as realms where thought-forms and entities reside.

• Use VR and AR to create sacred spaces, temples, or digital altars.

• Engage in online rituals with other practitioners, synchronizing intent across the world.

Video-game Mechanics & Design

• Use in-game spells, rituals, and sigils that reflect real-world magickal practices.

• Implement a lunar cycle or planetary influences that affect gameplay (e.g., stronger spells during a Full Moon).

• Include divination tools like tarot cards, runes, or pendulums that give randomized yet meaningful responses.

Narrative & World-Building

• Create lore based on historical and modern magickal traditions, including witches, covens, and spirits.

• Include moral and ethical decisions related to magic use, reinforcing themes of balance and intent.

• Introduce NPCs or AI-guided entities that act as guides, mentors, or deities.

Virtual Rituals & Online Covens

• Design multiplayer or single-player rituals where players can collaborate in spellcasting.

• Implement altars or digital sacred spaces where users can meditate, leave offerings, or interact with spirits.

• Create augmented reality (AR) or virtual reality (VR) experiences that mimic real-world magickal practices.

Advanced Technomancy

The fusion of technology and magick is inevitable because both are fundamentally about shaping reality through will and intent. As humanity advances, our tools evolve alongside our spiritual practices, creating new ways to harness energy, manifest desires, and interact with unseen forces. Technology expands the reach and power of magick, while magick brings intention and meaning to the rapidly evolving digital landscape. As virtual reality, AI, and quantum computing continue to develop, the boundaries between the mystical and the technological will blur even further, proving that magick is not antiquated—it is adaptive, limitless, and inherently woven into human progress.

Cybersecurity & Warding

• Protect your digital presence as you would your home: use firewalls, encryption, and protective sigils in file metadata.

• Employ mirror spells in code to reflect negative energy or hacking attempts.

• Set up automated alerts as magickal wards, detecting and warning against digital threats.

Quantum & Chaos Magic in Technomancy

• Use quantum randomness (like random.org) in divination for pure chance-based outcomes.

• Implement chaos magick principles by using memes, viral content, or trend manipulation to manifest desired changes.

AI & Machine Learning as Oracles

• Use AI chatbots (eg GPT-based tools) as divination tools, asking for symbolic or metaphorical insights.

• Train AI models on occult texts to create personalized grimoires or channeled knowledge.

• Invoke "digital deities" formed from collective online energies, memes, or data streams.

Ethical Considerations in Technomancy

• Be mindful of digital karma—what you send out into the internet has a way of coming back.

• Respect privacy and ethical hacking principles; manipulation should align with your moral code.

• Use technomancy responsibly, balancing technological integration with real-world spiritual grounding.

As technology evolves, so will technomancy. With AI, VR, and blockchain shaping new realities, magick continues to find expression in digital spaces. Whether you are coding spells, summoning cyber servitors, or using algorithms to divine the future, technomancy offers limitless possibilities for modern witches, occultists, and digital mystics alike.

"Magick is technology we have yet to fully understand—why not merge the two?"

[sweetchimera-art]

NEOVEMBER IS HERE

A fanmade* artistic challenge in celebration of Neopets!

This was made for a [Neopets OC server] I run in collaboration with some of the other members but I was told people on Tumblr might enjoy this too! *Not associated with Neopets or TNT. This is unofficial stuff.

For Neovember, enjoy 30 prompts to inspire you to draw something Neopets related daily through the month of November.

There's a mix of prompts and adjectives to choose from to balance options for people who like more or less guidance for challenges like this. You can choose to do one, do both, do neither, or combine 'em. Engage with this art challenge on your own terms and at your own pace. These prompts are intentionally open ended.

See the Read More for all the prompts! Happy Neopetting!

NEOVEMBER PROMPTS

⭐ Week 1

Day 1

Prompt: Your favorite Neopet species and color Adjective: Sleeping

Day 2

Prompt: Redesign your least favorite Neopet species Adjective: Omelette

Day 3

Prompt: Your favorite Petpet or Petpetpet Adjective: Awakening

Day 4

Prompt: Your Neopet as their Petpet or Petpetpet equivalent Adjective: Carnival

Day 5

Prompt: Design a new cursed Chia color Adjective: Wheel

Day 6

Prompt: Design a Paintbrush idea that you would love for TNT to implement Adjective: Running

Day 7

Prompt: An underrated pet color Adjective: Hunting

⭐⭐ Week 2

Day 8

Prompt: Your favorite site or gallery collection item(s) Adjective: Plushie

Day 9

Prompt: An item you wish was wearable Adjective: Fashion

Day 10

Prompt: Your favorite game trophy Adjective: Castle

Day 11

Prompt: Highlight a favorite Customization wearable Adjective: Relaxing

Day 12

Prompt: Your pet's favorite food and drink items or those chosen as monthly freebies Adjective: Eating

Day 13

Prompt: Fashion Fever: What outfit would your pet choose from this Flash game? Adjective: Woods

Day 14

Prompt: Your OC as a shopkeeper. What do they sell? Adjective: Jelly

⭐⭐⭐ Week 3

Day 15

Prompt: Your favorite site NPC Adjective: 8-Bit

Day 16

Prompt: Your favorite Altador Cup team (or player) OR Draw a site NPC you have a rivalry with Adjective: Swimming

Day 17

Prompt: A character from any plot (Ex: Tale of Woe, The Void Within, Faerie's Ruin etc.) Adjective: Faerie

Day 18

Prompt: A character from any site event (Ex: Charity Corner, Festival of Neggs, Daily Dare, etc.) Adjective: Mutant

Day 19

Prompt: Your favorite Faerie Adjective: Hiding

Day 20

Prompt: Your favorite site villain Adjective: Gross

Day 21

Prompt: Your favorite Cheat! player or a character from any Flash game Adjective: Gathering

⭐⭐ Week 4⭐⭐

Day 22

Prompt: Your average experience in the Battledome Adjective: Fuzzle

Day 23

Prompt: Your pet's average stay in the Neolodge Adjective: Stamp

Day 24

Prompt: Your favorite Flash Game Adjective: Space

Day 25

Prompt: Your pet's means of celebrating their (or your) favorite site holiday or event (Ex: Advent Calendar, Charity Corner, Festival of Neggs, etc.) Adjective: Collecting

Day 26

Prompt: Your favorite Neopets Land Adjective: Potion

Day 27

Prompt: Your last random event Adjective: Storing

Day 28

Prompt: SCRUNT. NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Adjective: Battle

⭐⭐ Home Stretch ⭐⭐⭐

Day 29

Prompt: Use a style or medium you don't usually attempt Adjective: Pirate

Day 30

Prompt: Your pet or OC in the Neopets Style Adjective: Celebrating

[hd-hurtcomfort-fest]

HD HURT/COMFORT FEST RULES & GUIDELINES 

Below are the rules and guidelines for HD Hurt/Comfort Fest 2025 participants. Please direct any questions or concerns to our ask box, or via hdhcfestmod@gmail.com.

HD Hurt/Comfort is an 18+ anonymous prompt-based fest that welcomes creations from both the angsty and fluffy ends of the trope spectrum. Accepted works include fic, art, craft, and podfic categorized as one of these three main tropes:

Angst

Fluff

Hurt/Comfort

**NEW FOR 2025** This year, we have implemented an ‘untagged’ option for prompts and creations! See the rules and guidelines below for more details!

Interested in supporting fellow participants? Need to engage the services of a cheerleader? Want to lament about your difficult muse? Join our HD/HC fest discord community! Open to 18+ only. 

Important dates:

Prompting: Apr 7 - May 2 Claiming: May 5 - July 1 Submissions due: Aug 4 Posting begins: Sept 1 Reveals: End of September

Your HD/HC Mods, @peachpety, @vukovich banner art by @basiatlu

Rules & Guidelines below the cut.

PROMPTING

The prompting period is April 7 - May 2. 

You may submit as many prompts as you like. You do not have to create for the fest in order to post a prompt.

All prompts must be identified as one of the three accepted fest tropes: angst, fluff, or hurt/comfort combination. Any extra details are welcome. Please note, however, that these additional details are for inspiration only and creators are not obligated to adhere to them fully.

Self-prompts are allowed. There will be a space on the claiming form to add details for self prompts.

**NEW FOR 2025** This year, fest mods have implemented an ‘untagged’ option for prompts and creations. All prompts must be identified as one of the three tagging options: tagged, untagged, or ‘surprise me.’ If a prompt is submitted with the ‘untagged’ or ‘surprise me’ option, the creator is permitted to forgo the use of additional tags and specific archive warnings when posting to AO3. The work will remain untagged for the duration of the fest. Tags may be added by the creator after or during reveals.

Prompts will be available for browsing as soon as prompting opens on April 7.

CLAIMING

The claiming period is May 5 - July 1.

Due to the nature of potential content, this fest is for participants aged 18 and over. Please do not sign up if you are not 18 by the time of claiming.

Upon signing up, you agree to the Rules and Guidelines of the fest.

Only one prompt may be claimed at a time. Prompts are assigned on a first come first serve basis. As such, should you have your eye on a specific prompt but are unable to claim it once claiming opens, a proxy is allowed to claim on your behalf.

If you fulfill your prompt with enough time before submissions, you're welcome to claim an additional prompt. We only ask that you submit your first work as per submission guidelines before claiming another.

Collaborations are welcome! Please only submit one claim form per collaboration and include the details of all participants.

Writer sign-up cap is set at 60. There is no cap for art, craft, or podfic.

If you wish to create art, craft, or podfic based on an existing fanwork, please submit it as a self prompt during the claiming period.

CREATING

All creations must fit into the ‘angst’, ‘fluff’, or ‘hurt/comfort’ categories. There are many themes that fall in line for fluff and angst, but below is a short list of suggestions to help inspire. If you have any doubts or questions about your theme(s), please reach out!

Angst

Depression Addiction (alcohol, other drugs) Abuse (emotional, physical, sexual, etc) Infidelity Death Grief

Fluff

Domesticity Slice of life Getting Together Meet Cute Found family Friends to Lovers

The main pairing for all creations is Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Participants may include any side-pairings, threesomes, and/or original characters, as long as the final submission is still a Drarry-centric piece. All ratings and archive warnings are accepted.

As this is an anonymous fest, please do not discuss your creations with anyone in a public forum outside the HD/HC Fest Discord, except for your alpha/beta readers and the fest mods until the reveals have been announced in September. Come join in our Discord fun here!

Ratings suggestions and additional details included for each prompt should be considered inspiration. Feel free to incorporate or ignore them as you see fit! Should you choose to gift your creation to the promptee, however, we ask that you honor any dislikes mentioned. 

Please tag your works appropriately (see below for the *new* untagged option!). Due to the nature of this fest, we want to ensure that everyone is informed of potentially triggering content. Please note, however, that all fluff entries must be HEA (Happily Ever After) and must not contain content that merits an archive warning.

If you’re unsure about tagging your work, please let the mods know, and we are happy to help. Please also note that we reserve the right to review your tags and warnings in relation to your content and may contact you to request additions and/or changes. While we can’t dictate consumption of our creations, we will strive to empower our readers/viewers with appropriate information to make an informed choice.

**NEW FOR 2025** This year, fest mods have implemented an ‘untagged’ option for prompts and creations. If your claimed prompt was specified with the ‘untagged’ or ‘surprise me’ option, the creator is permitted to forgo the use of additional tags and specific archive warnings when posting to AO3. The work will remain untagged for the duration of the fest. Tags may be added by the creator after or during reveals.

Author and Artist Guidelines

We will not accept works created with AI.

For fics, the minimum word count is 1000. We have elected to implement a cap on fics of 60k. 

All fics must be proofread and follow generally accepted SPaG guidelines. If you are unable to find a beta to assist, please reach out to the mods, and we can provide further guidance.

All fics are posted anonymously, however for art we allow artists to include watermarks on their creations if they so wish.

Podfic Guidelines

Podfics are most certainly welcome, as long as they fit into the 'angst', 'fluff', or 'hurt/comfort' categories! If you intend to podfic a work that you did not originally create, please make sure you get permission from the original author to record it.

For podfics, the minimum word count of the recorded story is 1000, maximum 60k.

All podfics must be proofed. If you are unable to find a beta to assist, please reach out to the mods and we can provide further guidance.

Podfics will be posted anonymously, but podficcers are allowed to state their name in the podfic recording itself (not within their notes on the post).

Drop Outs/Extensions 

Throughout the creation period, we'll send a couple of check-in emails—one month and one week before submissions are due. You're welcome to ask for an extension at that time. You're also welcome to contact the mods outside of the check-in period via email or Discord at any point to request one.

We know life likes to surprise us with the unexpected, so please know that if you need to drop out for any reason, that's ok! Just please let us know as early as possible.

SUBMITTING

Once you have completed your work, it’s time to submit! 

Submissions are due August 4. If you finish before this date, you are welcome to submit early.

All works must be posted directly [LINK TO POST] to the fest AO3 collection: HD Hurt Comfort Fest 2025. Podfics should be linked to the original work using the AO3 ‘Inspired By’ function, i.e: “This work is a remix, a translation, a podfic, or was inspired by another work” and pasting the URL of the original fic. Please contact the mods if you have any issues submitting your work.

Submissions must be complete works created for this fest. Please do not submit incomplete works or works that are a part of a series or a prequel/sequel to an existing work.

Due to the nature of content present in angsty creations in particular, we want to emphasize the importance of tagging. Please take care to tag for potentially triggering themes present in your work (see below for the *new* untagged option!). If you have questions or need clarification on anything, please reach out to the mods, and we'll be happy to help!

Mods will also read through entries prior to posting to help ensure proper tagging. Should we believe any changes are necessary, we will reach out to you and ask you to make those.

**NEW FOR 2025** This year, fest mods have implemented an ‘untagged’ option for prompts and creations. If your creation is ‘untagged’, you are permitted to forgo the use of additional tags and specific archive warnings when posting to AO3. We will suggest the use of a fest tag for these works: HDHC2025Untagged. The work will remain untagged for the duration of the fest. Tags may be added by the creator after or during reveals.

Following successful upload of your work to the collection, please submit the completed submission header form below to hdhcfestmod@gmail.com to confirm you have posted to the collection. We will respond with a confirmation email in a timely manner.

Submission header:

For Art and/or Fic:

Title: Creator(s): Pairing(s): Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, <any additional pairings> Rating: Word count/Art Medium Warnings/Tags: Summary: Author's note: Link to work:

For Podfic:

Title: Podficcer: Rating: Length: Warnings/Tags: Summary: Podficcer’s note: Link to podfic: Link to original work:

POSTING

Entries will be posted starting September 1. 

In an effort to provide comfort to the hurt, a balm to soothe the pain, we will strive to post creations as pairs—one angst and one fluff per day. Each paired creation will have a stand-alone posting, but will include a link to its contrasting creation. 

Of course, it's difficult to ensure we've got exactly equal numbers of angst and fluff pieces, and we don't want to limit creators, so we recognize things will in all likelihood be a little unbalanced.

This is ok though! As mods, we'll do our best to arrange the posting schedule to ensure an even distribution of excellent content. 

Additionally, while we will not release a public posting schedule, we will inform participants prior to their anticipated post date.

Once your creation has been posted please be mindful not to reveal yourself as the creator through the duration of anon postings. After the mod reveals posting in September, you are free to claim your creation in personal posts to your heart’s content. Tag us @hd-hurtcomfort-fest in your posts on tumblr and we will reblog from the HD/HC Fest account!

While we hope that it will not happen, sometimes creations receive negative comments. If you receive a nasty or critical comment, please contact the mods asap. We are happy to work with you to address the situation, and will only step in to deal with it if that is your wish.

GENERAL/FAQ

Is this an 18+ fest? Yes, this fest is only open to creators over the age of 18 by the time of claiming (May 5 - July 1).

Untagged? How does that work? If a prompt is submitted with the 'untagged' option, the creator is permitted to forgo the use of additional tags and specific archive warnings when posting to AO3. The work will remain Untagged for the duration of the fest. Tags may be added by the creator after or during reveals.

I want to submit a MCD prompt, is that allowed? Yes! Major Character Death certainly counts as angsty content. Our list of suggested themes is only a small handful of ideas. So feel free to submit away! Also, be sure to select the ‘angst’ option when you submit your prompt.

I don’t want any hurt, only fluffy happy endings. Can my prompt be fluff only? Yes! Just be sure to select the ‘fluff’ option when you submit your prompt.

I love content that features both angst and fluff. Can my prompt be a combination of both? Of course! Just be sure to select the ‘hurt/comfort’ option when you submit your prompt.

Does my angst fic/art have to have comfort?  No! You can write/create 100% angst, such as MCD, or pain & anguish without a happy ending if that's where your muse leads you.

What if I want to write hurt & comfort? Go for it! 

I want to write/draw/create only cute & fluffy content, is that allowed? YES! We encourage creations of 100% fluff in this fest! Bring on all the meet cutes & sweet happy endings.

What if I don't want my entry to post with a corresponding [fluff||angst] piece? The entire premise of this fest is that angst and fluff pieces will get posted together. Although there will inevitably be an excess of one type of entry, resulting in slight augmentations to posting, there's no way we can make a fair commitment to post specific entries without a corresponding creation on the opposite side of the spectrum. We are happy to discuss your hesitation with you, but if you still have reservations, this particular fest might not be for you, and that's ok!

[haveyouplayedthisttrpg]

Have you played Star Trek Adventures: Captain's Log Solo Roleplaying Game ?

By Michael Dismuke, Jim Johnson, John Kennedy, Thomas Marrone, Aaron M. Pollyea, and Al Spader

BOLDLY GO WHERE NO ONE HAS GONE BEFORE

“THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS THE UNKNOWN; ONLY THINGS TEMPORARILY HIDDEN, TEMPORARILY NOT UNDERSTOOD.” -CAPTAIN JAMES T. KIRK

The Captain’s Log Solo Roleplaying Game is a 326-page, full-color standalone digest-sized rulebook that provides a complete, streamlined version of the award-winning 2d20 System used for the Star Trek Adventures roleplaying game, which you can use to create your own Star Trek stories with a dynamic character formed from your own imagination.

Whether you are venturing into the cosmos alone, conducting Galaxy-spanning missions cooperatively with friends, or exploring the unknown with a gamemaster facilitating your adventures, use the guidance and random tables contained in Captain’s Log to generate countless hours of memorable adventures in the Star Trek universe.

Create an original character and then use the tools in this book, combined with your fertile imagination, to fashion your own fascinating Star Trek-style stories. Play in any era of Star Trek - from the 21st century to the 32nd century and everything in between. Explore strange new worlds, new civilizations, and all the wonders of the universe!

What will you discover while exploring the final frontier?

The 326-page, full-color digest-sized hardcover Captain’s Log Solo Roleplaying Game features:A streamlined 2d20 ruleset that enables countless ways to play. Lifepaths and roles for any type of character, not just Starfleet captains. Story-driven solo gameplay that promotes drama in a safe space. A Star Trek primer including society, technology, and eras of play. Rules for creating or randomizing your own starship or starbase. Options to play the game solo, collaboratively with friends without a gamemaster, or collaboratively with a gamemaster Guidance on implementing the rules and telling your own stories. Over 100 random tables and storytelling matrixes usable in all kinds of games, including alien worlds and polities, allies and enemies, mission themes, maintenance downtime, and so much more! Available in four different covers inspired by your favorite Star Trek eras: the original series, The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine/Voyager, and Discovery. The interior content is the same for each version.

This book is a standalone product.

[girlactionfigure]

A very powerful message from Hillel Fuld:  I really don’t think you understand the absolute miracles that we witnessed last night here in Israel. In fact, I am sure you don’t. Let’s break this down. Israel has three air defense systems, each one of them a technological wonder and that’s not me saying it. That’s Dr. Gold who basically invented the Iron Dome who told me that. The level and sophistication of the Iron Dome is simply unparalleled. But the Iron Dome only knows how to detonate short range rockets or missiles within a 70 km range, give or take.  Then Israel has the David’s Sling system. That knows how to deal with mid range missiles up to approximately 300 km.  Then we have the Arrow system that literally detonates missiles that can fly outside of the earth’s atmosphere. That has a range of about 2,400 km!! 🤯 Last night, as Iran rained down ballistic missiles on Israel, all three defense systems were activated and implemented to perfection. The chances of all of these incredibly complex systems working in unison as flawlessly as they did last night, are basically non existent. If one thing went wrong, if one of those ballistic missiles hit an apartment building, a shopping center, or an army base, we would now be burying hundreds of Israelis.  And all of that is not even the biggest miracle.  A few hours ago, I got a WhatsApp message from a good friend who is a senior executive at Microsoft and who wasn’t exactly a God fearing Jew. Until yesterday.  Here is what he wrote me.  “If you’re looking for miracles man - last night I started believing. Missiles hit all around me but none of them hit my house or any house, for that matter.” He elaborated some more and shared info about the missiles that he watched land just meters away from very strategic places in Israel, to say the least.  Each one of those defense systems is, in and of itself, pretty miraculous, but what is even more insane is the low casualty numbers from the rockets and missiles that we’re NOT intercepted.  Where did those missiles go? I’ll tell you where. They landed in sand, in water, and in “Empty spaces”.  Have you been to Israel? It’s a microscopic country. What empty spaces? Where are these empty spaces? 🤷‍♂️ How have hundreds of Iranian ballistic missiles all either get detonated by miraculous systems or totally miss their mark and land in empty spaces causing zero casualties and minimal damage?!   How?? Listen, I get it. This thought process begs the question, where was God during the horrible terrorist attack yesterday? Where was He on October 7th? Where was He during the holocaust?  All valid questions that require a very serious nuanced conversation.  But if you know anything about what had to happen last night and throughout this war in general, for such a low number of casualties, you’ll know that what we witnessed last night was the equivalent of God splitting the sea right before our eyes.  Guess what. When God split the sea, there were those who didn’t believe it was a miracle and didn’t jump in. And there are also those who feel the need to explain it naturally. Ok, that’s fine.  You don’t want to call yesterday an act of God? That’s your choice, but like my Microsoft friend, if you look at these events objectively, you’d have a really hard time seeing those hundreds of deadly missiles land in empty spaces and not see the hand of God.  Last night was an incredible display of the collaboration between two of the powers that protect the Jewish people: The IDF and Hashem.  Last night will go down in history right alongside many of Israel’s accomplishments in this war including the beepers and the unprecedented low ratio between combatant and civilian, as a military operation the likes of which the world has never seen. Ever! Last night will be analyzed by military strategists and experts for generations.  Last night, we witnessed history.  Last night we witnessed open miracles.  Last night, we witnessed God in all His glory watching over His children.

[spiribia]

my review of sky cotl seasons since i joined

season of nesting: i joined midway through this one. i like the idea of a decoratable home space you can invite your friends to, and 'nest' is a very sweet name for it, but sadly furniture ended up just broadly not appealing to me as much as outfit cosmetics do, so i didn't feel i missed too much. i actually really enjoyed the season guide storyline for it, and as i was getting into the game around then, i considered it a shining example of the wordless, minimalist ways it could communicate something kind of moving. i also think it's funny and charming the season guide initially refuses to let you go past the counter into their space but softens to you going back there in time.

season of duets: very strong guide duo + i really enjoyed the outfits being their outfits at various stages of their lives as they grew into stage prominence. i thought the rewards for this were gorgeous and i really enjoyed the visually atmospherically cohesive theming, but none of the pieces i was particularly excited about ended up being ultimates, and a lot of the trees were occupied by 1,000 posters and for some reason plain colored rugs, which made me posthumously kind of resent season of nesting for introducing furniture into the game

season of moomin: i've heard rumors it was for copyright reasons, but i do think the stark separation of the moomin world from the sky cotl world to the extent that sky kids and moomins never both exist in any given area made the collaborative meld not quite as smooth as it had been for the previous collaboration seasons. i really, really, really love that they adapted The Invisible Child and that they were willing to further explore this concept with metaphorical supplementary quests. while i wish sky kid could have gone to moominvalley, going through it as a butterfly was still nice, maybe even smart as a compromise, if it really was one. to be honest, i wasn't especially excited about a lot of the season pass outfit pieces for this one. them locking half of some sets to IAP and the other half in season pass (snufkin's cape in the pass, his hat as a separate purchase, for example) was genuinely kind of repugnant

season of radiance: beautiful, beautiful, versatile cosmetics. an animal themed ultimate mask, my dream. i was fairly uninvested in the storyline for once. a bunch of guys were just dyeing their clothes. i really like the concept of dyeing outfit pieces and am not opposed to dye being something you collect from the overworld, but the way it was implemented feels a little bit clunky to me, even gameplay wise. burning down a dye plant and then collecting the dye from the butterflies and then converting the dye into jars feels like hitting a bunch of tiny consecutive snags at times with how the autotargeting works, how the vines are finicky, and how getting the dye from the butterfly cloud becomes weird when other players are also trying to collect from the same swarm, which you all have to share

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this press release from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service:

Today, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service announced more than $17 million in funding through the Delaware Watershed Conservation Fund, in partnership with the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation, for 45 conservation projects in the Delaware River watershed. The grants will generate nearly $20.7 million in matching contributions from the grantees, providing a total conservation impact of $38 million.

Funding includes more than $4.7 million from President Biden’s Bipartisan Infrastructure Law for six projects aimed at improving public access, recreational opportunities, and water quality, as well as enhancing shoreline resiliency and critical habitat. 

The Delaware River watershed spans parts of Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey and New York — a landscape that encompasses one of the most densely populated urban areas in the nation yet remains 50 percent forested. Four hundred miles of the Delaware River are classified as National Wild and Scenic River, indicating their shorelines remain largely undeveloped but accessible in places by roads. These projects supported by the Delaware Watershed Conservation Fund will benefit the millions of people who rely on the Delaware River and its tributaries by improving habitats, reducing flood risks, improving water quality, and increasing access to natural places. 

Multistate: $94,069 for building capacity for dam removals in the Delaware River watershed through trainings and workshops.

Delaware: $500,000 for re-envisioning Rodney Reservoir Park with restored natural spaces to enhance water quality, wildlife habitat and recreation.

New York: $779,306 for reconnecting rivers in the upper Delaware River watershed to enhance brook trout habitat and mitigating flooding.

Pennsylvania: $1.5 million for restoring habitat and increasing equitable access to nature at Franklin Delano Roosevelt Park. 

Pennsylvania: $830,400 for improving public safety, access and water quality at Stroud Preserve.

Pennsylvania: $1 million for implementing green stormwater infrastructure projects at four under-served elementary schools in Philadelphia.

The total funding also includes $347,450 from the USDA’s Natural Resources Conservation Service for projects such as collaborative forest management in New York and Pennsylvania. This project, co-funded between the Service and USDA-NRCS, is part of a new federal partnership to support conservation efforts on working lands. 

[thatdiabolicalfeminist]

To create a sustainable climate, we cannot keep using the same types and amounts of air conditioning.

Central ACs especially accelerate the climate crisis both overall and locally, raising the temperature in air conditioned cities by as much as 10 degrees, not to mention the overall greenhouse gas effect.

Me being extremely heat sensitive due to physical disability doesn't change that reality.

Ignoring it just because I personally am worried about staying cool would be short sighted. As the climate crisis worsens, ACs won't be able to keep up anyways! As price gouging capitalism gets worse, it's possible poor people (huge overlap with disabled people—I'm both!) will have even less access to AC anyways!! Power grid blackouts mean you can't use your AC even if you have it!!

Not to mention how bad it is for people stuck outdoors where ACs are cooking the city even hotter!!

I might get sick or die from overheating if everything stays the same!! We need other options!!

There are ways of cooling that aren't AC.

Individually, most of us probably don't have much choice about implementing many of them.

For instance, houses in the US are built mostly to retain heat, even in hot places, because European settlers wanted familiar house types and when ACs became available those same settlers moved en masse to even hotter places, and even more European-style homes were built there, with AC built in to many of them.

Now we're here, most of us can't afford to build or remodel a whole house. Changing architecture to be cooling IS possible though—it just requires more than individual choices.

Also, public green spaces and waterways are known to reduce heat. Asphalt makes cities hotter, green spaces and open water cool the area.

Cars are another obvious source of local heat. A robust public transit system reducing the number of cars on the road would make us all need less AC.

The conversation isn't about asking disabled people to turn off our ACs and just die.

We need to engage in collective action to make other types of cooling possible.

We need to be creative and collaborative and not just throw up our hands and say the only options are to keep burning up the earth with ACs, or giving them up with no alternative.

People telling you about a problem are giving you an opportunity to be part of brainstorming solutions.

When someone points out that something you need to survive is not sustainable, don't just jump to "they want me to die then". Maybe it just means we need to work together to figure out how to meet all our needs in a sustainable way!!

And yeah, if you can safely turn the AC a degree or two warmer or leave it off some days, that would be great! Every little bit helps!! But we need to be focused on big, systemic solutions and work together to make them happen.

[shironayatl]

And today's the mini event for the next big event!

Today we know what's their background is, so here we go!

The Leadership of the Student Union

Minerva Academy Student Union is an organization established by the academy. Through the careful management of each student union, it has now become an indispensable bridge and leader between the academy and students. In addition to the leadership team with the president and vice president as the core, there are also a number of functional departments responsible for different matters such as publicity, literature and art, and sports.

Among them, the Publicity Department has performed particularly well, and has been awarded the title of Excellent Department many times recently. The Publicity Department is responsible for daily tasks such as printing school newspapers and posting posters. It's not only records major activities of the college, but also records the energetic mental outlook of students. It is an indispensable student organization.

Minerva Academy Drama Club

Minerva Academy focuses on cultivating students' interests and hobbies. Minerva Academy has opened many clubs of different directions and types. The drama club is one of the most outstanding clubs among the many clubs. It has many members and with students that are good at acting, dancing, scripting, directing, etc.

The drama club has their own classroom. The space in the classroom covers the rehearsal space and prop storage space. It is also equipped with professional video recording and playback equipment. In addition, the school has also specially approved drama club students to use the school auditorium and other venues for rehearsals during specific times, so that students can better understand and learn drama-related content.

Overseas Exchange Program

In order to promote academic exchanges between on-campus students and classmates from overseas institutions, improve students' comprehensive quality, and stimulate students' innovative learning motivation, Minerva Academy has established an overseas exchange program. Every year, the academy will select a number of students to go overseas for cooperation. In addition to exchange studies between schools, overseas academy will also send students to this city to study with students from Minerva Academy.

Since overseas student representatives came to the city for inspection and decided to make Minerva Academy a key partner for the exchange program, the program has been implemented for many years, with a total of 43 students participating. Hoping the friendship between the two schools will last forever and the exchanges will last forever.

Strong artistic atmosphere

Under the concept of diversified development of Minerva Academy, the art lovers who gathered together continued to communicate and collaborate with each other, forming a strong artistic atmosphere in a corner of the campus.

The building is included with a fully equipped art classroom. The commonly used drawing board paints, plaster models, etc., the art classroom also prepares art book sections of different styles for students to refer to when creating. In addition to hosting club activities for students in the art club, the art classroom is also open to students outside the club during non-club time. Students who are interested are welcome to visit and experience and step into the door of the art world.

[void-galaxy-shenanigans]

a thought I had, & shared with our CILA* coordinator, that is oddly controversial in some spaces.

(* diversity center; Center for Intercultural Learning & Affirmation)

diversity is not the problem.

some people have darker skin. some people are disabled, invisible or visible. some people are women or are assumed to be women. some people are nonbinary or trans (or identify as both).

the problem isn’t, to use an analogy, that crows & parrots (two distinctly visually different types of bird) exist and are/appear different.

diversity is not an enemy. perceiving the existence of such diversity is not a problem.

yes, you will notice that someone has a darker or lighter skin tone than you. yes, you will notice that someone who appears young is using a cane or a walker/rollator. yes, you will see a wheelchair when someone uses one. humans do observe these things.

where it becomes a problem is the conclusions that are made from that, & the subsequent actions therein.

more specifically, the problem is when people assign a hierarchy of whose voice will be heard, who deserves to be in public spaces, who deserves bodily autonomy, and even who deserves to be alive. (these are social constructs, meaning people invented & implemented them, as these types of hierarchy do not exist naturally.)

the problem is when people make laws & structures to disempower and harm people based on these differences, to separate them so they won’t be perceived by the other group(s) that are/look different (e.g. racial segregation), to keep them in generations of poverty.

people will notice diversity. kids will notice diversity. people may even want to ask questions of someone who is distinctly different*. these are innate and natural; we see differences, and those differences may spark curiosity.

(* I frequently get questions as to why I, a seemingly young & healthy person, use a cane, & if I really need one. If they ask respectfully/kindly, I don’t mind explaining why I need it.)

the problem is when these differences are marginalized (pushed aside, silenced), harshly judged, turned into unnatural chains (sometimes literally) of hierarchy.

we don’t succeed in equity, equality, progress, safety by restructuring these hierarchies. they need to be dismantled and turned back to curiosity, compassion, & collaboration.

from a gender diverse, intersex, disabled, queer, polyamorous, overall marginalized person...we need allies who are willing (& follow through) to dismantle these constructs. We need allies who are willing to challenge those associated thoughts, the judgements and structures that we are taught/socialized into.

there are groups I cannot speak for, but the people I have explained this to understood and felt the same.

to be an ally is not to be race-blind or to ignore people’s identity/presentation or etc., it is to challenge and unpack the linked judgements on their worth, on whether they deserve to have their needs met & to be alive.

this has been bouncing around in my brain for a few days, so I’m expressing it here. this isn’t a callout to anyone in particular, just a coherent synthesis of concepts and frustrations.

~Nico (he/they)

[nandinishenoy]

Empowering Future Urban Designers: A Vision for Tomorrow

As globalization accelerates, the world is experiencing rapid urban expansion. Metropolitan city centers serve as the backbone of economic growth and a sustainable future. Urban planning and architectural design play a crucial role in shaping both our current living spaces and future habitats. Therefore, on World Architecture Day, it is essential to reflect on the importance of urban design in our everyday lives and its impact on community development.

The Role of Future Urban Designers and Architects

The next generation urban designers and architects hold the key to shaping tomorrow’s landscapes. Given the complexities of real estate growth, infrastructure networks, and diverse socio-civic amenities in urban hubs, strategic urban design remains at the core. Future leaders must be equipped with analytical thinking, innovative design approaches, technological integration, and policy-driven solutions to craft livable, dynamic urban environments. This blog delves into how we can establish a framework for the future.

Leveraging Technology for Sustainable Urban Design

In today’s digital landscape, technology is revolutionizing urban development. With cutting-edge AI tools, cities are being envisioned using Blockchain, BIM modeling, drones, augmented reality, and GIS mapping. Intelligent technology is essential for addressing urban challenges, climate risks, and resource scarcity. Therefore, urban architectural planning should embrace tech-driven design ideologies, empowering young visionaries to create resilient, smart, and adaptive cities.

Sustainability as a Cornerstone of Urban Growth

The current generation is highly conscious of the pressing need for sustainability in urban planning. As environmental concerns escalate, the future of urban development depends on sustainable practices. Green building methods, energy-efficient technologies, and eco-conscious designs must become fundamental to city landscapes. The mixed-use integrated townships by the Hiranandani Communities exemplify this future-forward approach. With meticulously planned socio-civic infrastructure, precise architectural execution, and state-of-the-art engineering, these townships seamlessly blend aesthetics, functionality, and sustainability.

Balancing Aesthetics with Practicality

A well-designed city is more than just a cluster of towering buildings. It must thoughtfully integrate aesthetics with functionality to create a sustainable urban ecosystem. Efficient transportation networks, abundant green spaces, essential services, and robust infrastructure contribute to a higher quality of life for residents.

Community Engagement in Urban Design

Empowering the next generation also involves fostering participatory urban planning. When communities are actively involved in the design process, cities evolve to better serve their residents. Young minds bring innovative perspectives, allowing for the creation of inclusive, forward-thinking urban spaces. By promoting collaborative planning, architects and urban designers can develop cities that are both user-centric and environmentally sustainable.

Government Backing for Urban Sustainability

A sustainable urban future requires strong government policies that support and incentivize progressive building initiatives. Developers prioritizing eco-friendly, inclusive, and functional designs should be encouraged through financial incentives and tax benefits. By implementing favorable design policies, governments can inspire developers to construct landmark structures that enrich cityscapes and promote urban tourism.

Conclusion: Building the Cities of the Future

As urban design and architecture continue to evolve, they must prioritize both societal and environmental sustainability. Architects, developers, and policymakers must collaborate to pioneer innovative solutions. By engaging young professionals and integrating emerging technologies, we can create inclusive, resilient communities that cater to present needs while shaping the future of urban living.

[bg3-ficrecs]

BG3 Fic Review Guidelines - let us know what you think!

Hi everyone, We've finally settled on some fic review guidelines we'd like to implement here, but we would like to share them with the community and get your feedback. It's important to us that we support our fellow writers in a collaborative space. The best way to do that is to hear your thoughts and incorporate them into our plans and strategies. Once we have finalised our review guidelines, we plan to open up our doors to bring more reviewers on board and really get going properly. We may do this either by creating a Discord server for the team or simply allowing reviewers to submit their work to the blog directly. Regardless, our fanfic community is important to us and we want to do our best to help build a supportive, inspiring and creative environment. But! without further ado, here are the BG3 Fic Review Guidelines as they currently are, listed below the fold. Please feel free to reply on this post, send us an ask, or email me (Aivu) directly should you have any comments or questions. My email address is aivuthedragon[at]gmail[dot]com.

Happy writing!

Aivu 🐉💜 BG3 Fic Reviews, Editor

The BG3FicReviews review guidelines (WIP)

Please note these guidelines are a work in progress, and we may update them as we go depending on questions that arise in the community and among our team members. That said, the goals behind the BG3FicReviews blog will remain largely unchanged, and represent our underlying philosophy as a team. We’ll start there.

What are the goals of the BG3FicReviews blog and its team?

At the moment, we have four main overarching goals: 

Help foster a kind and supportive community for fanfic writers in the BG3 fandom that helps to uplift them/us and their/our work; 

Provide a useful resource for fanfic writers (in the BG3 fandom and more generally);  

Provide a helpful guide for fanfic readers on some of the best, most interesting and most innovative BG3 fanfic currently being published; and

Create a safe space for writers to explore topics of various kinds while also supporting proactive and inclusive tagging.

With these four goals in mind, our objective is not and will never be to unduly criticise an author or write negative reviews. Fanfic authors write for free and because they love to write and share their words with the world. We don’t believe in stifling that passion with negativity. We want to uplift writers and support them to continue doing what they love. 

Review submission guidelines

Here we have some broad questions to help guide a reviewer when reading a given work, as well as what could be included in a review. These are the kinds of questions I (Aivu) ask myself when I write my reviews. 

What are some of the dominant themes of this work?

What is unique about this work? Has a trope been approached in a fresh, innovative way? Or perhaps it’s a very good example of a well-used trope?

Feel free to be creative in your review - just as authors develop their own voice in their writing, you are free to build and develop yours. (Just please keep in mind the four goals of the BG3FicReviews blog when you do.)

Did you have any ‘aha!’ or ‘wow!’ moments when reading this fic? (Note: please be mindful of spoilers, and try to explain such moments in a way that doesn’t spoil the work for potential readers.)

How did you feel while and after reading this work? Did it evoke any particular feelings for you?

Please include a brief list of the most important tags when submitting your review - it will help our readers skip over a review of a fic that might not be to their particular tastes (which is absolutely fine).

Please be aware that we do reserve the right to edit reviews to be in line with our standards and the formatting we use for the blog, but we will provide feedback as much as we can and discuss any revisions with the author of a given review.

What are our future plans for the BG3FicReview blog?

In order to provide more hands-on support to writers, we are currently considering starting a strictly opt-in beta reading programme for fanfic authors. We don’t have a big enough team for this at the moment, but the idea would be that authors submit their work to be beta-read and can ask for help in particular areas of their writing (or their writing generally) to help them feel more confident in their work and with sharing it. Our team is too small at the moment to manage something like this, but as a long-term goal it’s something really important to us.

We are also considering opening a writing and fic review focused Discord, but that really depends on how much interest there is in such a space as there are many excellent BG3-focused writing Discords out there already. We are always open to suggestions from the fanfiction writer (and reader) community about what kind of support and tools could be helpful and useful. If you have any suggestions, please feel free to send us an ask or an email and let us know!

[lthienofdorthonion]

The Alchemy Between Us: Draco and Hermione’s Tale

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚              IV              ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Two souls, drawn together in silence, like elements in a delicate dance—where every glance holds the spark of transformation, and touch becomes the alchemy that turns the space between them into something new.

⚠️Trigger Warning ⚠️ This chapter contains strong mentions of alcoholism/substance abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

Hermione’s hands trembled slightly as she straightened the stack of parchment on the podium in front of her. The sleek mahogany conference room in the Ministry of Magic seemed grander than usual that morning. Sunlight streamed through the enchanted windows, casting a golden glow over the polished surfaces and reflecting off the brass accents. Seated across the table were three representatives from the French Ministry of Magic, their expressions unreadable yet keenly attentive.

She adjusted the enchanted microphone pinned to her lapel, her voice catching for just a moment as she began, “Good morning, esteemed delegates. Thank you for making the journey here today. It’s an honor to present this final report on the proposed International Trade Agreement for Enchanted Artifacts.”

It had been weeks of preparation. Hermione had scrutinized every word, every statistic, every hypothetical scenario. Her meticulous nature ensured there were no loopholes, no weak points. But Roderick, her superior, had spent the last several days peppering her with doubts. “Are you certain the French will go for this? You know how particular they can be,” he had sneered just the day before with a tone dripping with condescension. His comments had planted seeds of unease in her mind, and she had barely slept the night before, replaying her arguments over and over.

But now, standing before the room, she drew a deep, steadying breath and let her instincts take over.

Hermione’s presentation began with a clear outline of her objectives. Her wand flicked toward the enchanted board behind her, and glowing diagrams appeared, each illustrating the current inefficiencies in trade between the two countries. She explained the economic bottlenecks in potion ingredient imports, the barriers to cross-border magical creature handling, and the proposed regulatory adjustments that would streamline operations.

Her voice, though soft at first, grew in confidence. “By reducing these restrictions,” she explained, pointing to a glowing graph that animated a projected 25% increase in trade efficiency, “we not only facilitate smoother economic exchanges but also foster deeper collaboration between our nations—an effort that strengthens unity in the global magical community.”

The French delegates exchanged glances, nodding slightly. Hermione caught this, and her chest tightened in a mix of relief and determination.

As Hermione reached the conclusion of her report, she outlined the projected timeline for implementing these changes. Her wand flicked once more, and a shimmering timeline appeared on the board, each milestone mapped out with precision. “With your approval, we can begin as early as next month,” she finished, her voice steady and resolute.

For a moment, the room was silent. The kind of silence that makes one’s heartbeat feel deafening. Hermione’s fingers tightened around the edges of the podium, her heart lodged in her throat.

Then, Madame Beaumont spoke. “Miss Granger,” she said in a smooth and deliberate voice, “this is one of the most thorough and forward-thinking proposals I have encountered in my tenure. Your attention to detail, coupled with your ability to anticipate potential challenges, is commendable. France would be privileged to collaborate with you on this initiative.”

Hermione blinked, a flush creeping up her cheeks. She cast a glance at Roderick, seated at the far end of the room. His face was a study in forced neutrality, but the slight tightening of his jaw betrayed his discomfort.

When the meeting adjourned, the French delegates shook her hand firmly, each offering words of praise and gratitude. As they departed, Madame Beaumont lingered for a moment. “You have done your Ministry—and yourself—a great service today,” she said. “Do not let anyone convince you otherwise.”

As the door closed behind them, Hermione let out a shaky breath, her knees threatening to give way. She had done it. Against Roderick’s undermining remarks, against her own self-doubt, she had proven herself.

As the last of the French delegates filed out of the room, Hermione lingered at the podium, letting the weight of the moment settle in. A warm glow of pride bubbled in her chest, spreading to every corner of her being. She couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips as she watched them leave.

The silence that followed was broken by Roderick’s presence. He approached her slowly, his usual sharp expression softened into something unfamiliar. “Well,” he began. “Well done, Miss Granger.” He nodded once in a stiff but unmistakable gesture of appreciation. Hermione blinked in surprise and her brow lifted slightly as she registered the uncharacteristic acknowledgment. It wasn’t much, but coming from Roderick, it felt monumental.

“Thank you,” she said simply in a steady voice, though her surprise lingered as he turned and exited without another word.

Left alone in the now-empty conference room, Hermione gathered her notes and parchments, stacking them neatly into her enchanted briefcase. Her mind swirled with the success of the day and the compliments from the French delegation replaying in her head. She had done it. She had truly done it. She could finally sleep.

As she reached for her wand to dim the room’s lights, a light touch on her right shoulder startled her. She turned quickly, only to find a familiar freckled face and a pair of bright blue, smiling eyes.

“Congratulations, Mione! You did amazing!” Ron exclaimed with a warm grin on his face.

“Ronald!” she replied, her surprise melting into a warm smile. “You were here? Thank you for coming!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said. “I know how hard you worked on this. I’m so proud of you.”

Before she could respond, the freckled boy pulled her into a firm hug. She hesitated for only a moment before returning the embrace.

“You should’ve seen their faces when you were up there. They were hanging onto every word.” Ron said, his grin widening.

Hermione shook her head, though her cheeks tinged pink. “It went well, I’ll admit, but it was a team effort.”

Ron rolled his eyes playfully. “Team effort, my arse. We all know Roderick didn’t do shit. You carried that.”

“Well… I can’t deny that statement.”

They shared a laugh, and the brunette began packing the last of her things. As she secured her briefcase, Ron tilted his head and asked, “Have you had lunch yet?”

Hermione hesitated, already opening her mouth to decline. “Oh, I—”

“Nope,” The redhead interrupted firmly, holding up a hand. “Don’t even think about it. Let’s have lunch. I know the perfect spot, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

She raised an eyebrow as her lips twitched in amusement. “Ronald, I—”

“You promised we’d meet this week,” he reminded her, his tone insistent but good-natured. “And I’m calling in that promise now. Come on, it’s just lunch. You’ve earned it.”

Hermione sighed, feeling her resolve crumbling under his puppy-dog expression. “Fine,” she said with mock exasperation, grabbing her briefcase.

“That’s the spirit!” The redhead declared with a triumphant grin as he led her out of the conference room.

The air outside the Ministry of Magic had a crisp edge, the kind that stung the nose but didn’t bite too hard. The snow that blanketed London for the past week was finally starting to melt, leaving behind puddles glinting under the faint winter sun. Cobblestones glistened as Hermione and Ron walked side by side, their breath puffing out in misty clouds. Despite the lingering chill, there was something refreshing about the weather, almost pleasant in its fragile warmth.

Ron guided her through the winding streets of Diagon Alley, the faint buzz of late-afternoon activity surrounding them. Witches and wizards hurried past, their cloaks brushing against the melting snowbanks. He seemed in unusually high spirits, chatting animatedly about an incident at work involving a magical exploding quill that had sent his department into chaos. Hermione listened with polite amusement, her attention half-focused on the bustling scenery around them.

As they strolled along, it became impossible to ignore the attention they drew. Witches and wizards passing by turned their heads, their footsteps faltering as whispers began to ripple through the crowd. A child tugged at her mother’s cloak, pointing discreetly at the pair, her wide eyes shining with awe. A young wizard nearly dropped his stack of parchment as he craned his neck for a better look.

They all knew who they were. Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger—two-thirds of the legendary trio that had stood beside Harry Potter, the Boy Who Sacrificed Everything. The wizard who, against all odds, had made their world peaceful once and for all.

Hermione could feel the weight of their gazes, but she kept her stride steady, her chin lifted high. It wasn’t the first time she had walked through this kind of attention, but it never stopped feeling surreal, even all these years later. Ron, on the other hand, seemed less bothered. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat, his ears reddening slightly but not from the cold. “They act like we’ve just saved the world again,” he muttered under his breath, his lips twitching into a small, wry smile.

“They’ll never forget, you know,” Hermione replied softly. “What we did—what Harry did—changed everything for them.”

Ron nodded, his expression becoming more thoughtful. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “Still feels weird, though.”

The whispers continued to follow them, like a gentle undercurrent of admiration and curiosity. And though neither of them said it aloud, there was an unspoken understanding between them: this was their life now. 

Finally, Ron led her to a quaint little café tucked away at the corner of the alley. A painted wooden sign above the entrance read The Gilded Hearth, its letters adorned with enchanted gold filigree that shimmered softly. The café exuded warmth, with large glass windows fogged up from the heat inside, offering tantalizing glimpses of cozy armchairs, wooden tables, and flickering enchanted lanterns.

Inside, the smell of fresh bread, brewed tea, and roasted coffee beans greeted them. A soft hum of conversation mingled with the gentle clinking of teacups. The interior was snug, with bookshelves lining one wall and a crackling fireplace at the back, casting a golden glow over the room.

Ron strode ahead and pulled out a chair at a small table near the window. “Here you go,” he said cheerfully, gesturing for Hermione to sit.

She raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by the gesture, but obliged, settling into the chair with a polite smile. Ron took the seat across from her, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

“This place is lovely,” Hermione remarked, glancing around at the cozy surroundings.

“Figured you’d like it,” The ginger replied, his voice casual but his eyes alight with a certain nervous energy. He watched her intently, as though searching for a reaction that would reassure him. “It’s one of my favorites when I want to get away from all the noise.”

Hermione nodded, her fingers brushing over the corner of the menu. “I can see why.”

A server approached, it was a young witch with a friendly smile, and handed them parchment menus. She seemed to blush at the sight of Ron. He didn’t seem to notice or care. 

“So,” he said after the server left with their orders, “you’re really smashing it at the Ministry. That presentation today was—wow. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m proud of you.”

Hermione smiled faintly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks, Ron. That means a lot.”

Her friend’s face lit up at her words and a genuine smile broke across his features. There was a flicker of something unspoken in his expression—hope, perhaps, or nostalgia. He leaned forward slightly as his fingers wrapped around the edge of the table.

“You called me Ron,” he said softly. “That makes me happy.”

The brunette blinked, caught off guard by the sentiment. Their interactions had grown formal since the breakup and her use of his full name was a subtle way to create distance. 

He hesitated as his fingers tapped lightly against the table. “You know,” he began, “I think about how far you’ve come, how far we’ve all come, and… well, it’s kind of incredible, isn’t it?”

Hermione met his gaze. She didn’t want to ruin the moment but knew she couldn’t allow it to linger into something more.

“It is incredible,” she replied carefully. “I just hope we keep moving forward, you know?”

Ron’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second but then nodded. “Yeah, of course. Forward.”

Their conversation continued, touching on lighter topics as their drinks arrived—a steaming pot of Earl Grey for Hermione and a frothy Butterbeer for Ron. The warmth of the café wrapped around them, and for a moment, it felt like old times.

But beneath the surface, the brunette could sense the tension he was trying to hide as his lingering feelings manifested in every lingering glance and thoughtful comment. And as much as she wanted to preserve the peace between them, she couldn’t ignore the quiet resolve building in her heart: things could never go back to what they were.

The conversation began light and warm. They reminisced about Hogwarts, joked about shared memories, and debated which was more satisfying: the subtle bite of Earl Grey or the sweet foaminess of Butterbeer. The café’s cozy atmosphere made it easier to forget, even if just for a moment, the complexities that hung between them.

Ron tapped his fingers against the table and a thoughtful expression crossed his face. He glanced at her and said, almost casually, “It’s coming up soon, you know?”

Hermione tilted her head, a small crease forming on her brow. “What do you mean?”

“The Christmas Ministry Ball,” he clarified, leaning back in his chair. “Are you going?”

Her smile faltered ever so slightly, and she shifted in her seat as her fingers brushed the edge of her teacup. “I have to,” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “There will be important people present—ministries from all over. I don’t have a choice.”

Ron nodded and his face brightened a little. “Well, we could go together, you know? Like old times. It’ll be fun.”

Hermione looked at him and her lips parted as if to reply, but then she hesitated. “Ronald…” she began. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” he asked, leaning forward, his tone both curious and slightly defensive.

“You know why,” she replied softly.

Ron sighed and his shoulders stiffened. “Come on, Mione, give me a chance. It’s been years. I’ve changed. We’ve changed.”

“Exactly,” Hermione interrupted. “That’s why I don’t want to go back to it, Ronald. I’ve moved on. I don’t think it’s right to pretend we can pick up where we left off.”

“But—” His words caught in his throat, and he reached across the table covering her hand with his. “Please,” he said quietly but laced with desperation. “Please, give me a chance.”

The girl looked down at their hands and felt her stomach twist. She gently withdrew her hand from his grasp and her fingers curled around the edge of her teacup instead. “Ronald,” she said. “I want us to be friends. I really do. But we have to let go of the past.”

“But I love you!” he blurted out, the words tumbling from his mouth sounding like a child throwing a tantrum. His blue eyes searched hers, raw and pleading.

Her chest tightened, and she looked away.

“Ron,” she said finally in a steady voice that was tinged with sadness. “I’m sorry but I can’t give you what you want. I care about you—I always will—but not like that. Not anymore.”

He shook his head. “Why? Why not? Was it something I did? Something I said?”

“No,” she said quickly. “It’s not about that. It’s about me, about us. We were toxic together, Ron. We hurt each other and both said horrible things. And as much as I wish we could rewrite the past, we can’t. I’ve worked so hard to move forward, and I need you to do the same.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling over. “But I’ve changed, Hermione! I’m not the same person I was back then. I can do better, be better—for you.”

“I know you’ve changed,” she said gently. “I can see that. But it’s not about being better or worse. It’s about what’s right for me, for you. And going back… that’s not it.”

“I just… I don’t know how to let go,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hermione reached across the table, resting her hand briefly on his. “You will,” she said, her tone filled with a quiet confidence. “You’re stronger than you think, Ronald. You’ll find happiness—I truly believe that. But it’s not going to be with me.”

Ron stared at her for a long moment and his eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Finally, he nodded, though his expression remained pained. “I just… I miss us,” he said in a trembling voice.

“I know,” Hermione replied softly. “I miss what we had too. But sometimes, missing something doesn’t mean it’s meant to be.”

Ron’s voice broke the silence that had settled between them. “Are you going alone then?” he asked.

Hermione hesitated for a moment and her eyes flicked to the window where the soft gray of the late afternoon light painted the melting snow. “I don’t know… Probably,” she replied. She turned her gaze back to him, offering a faint, polite smile as if to close the subject.

Ron nodded slowly. His fingers played with the edge of his Butterbeer mug, and for a moment, it seemed like he might say something else. Instead, he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“Well,” he said, attempting a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I’m sure you’ll be the star of the night, as always.”

Hermione chuckled lightly, her laugh soft but strained. “I doubt that. I’m just hoping to make it through without too much fuss.”

For the rest of their time at the café, their conversation drifted to safer, lighter topics. Hermione could tell Ron was trying to mask his disappointment, and she appreciated his effort, even if it made her heart ache a little. She wished she could ease his pain, but deep down, she knew the kindest thing she could do was remain honest with him—and herself.

After their lunch, Hermione and Ron exchanged polite goodbyes outside the café. The streets of Diagon Alley were quieter than usual. Hermione pulled her coat tightly around her, feeling the cold air bite at her cheeks as she began her walk home.

Her thoughts drifted from the lingering weight of her conversation with Ron to the one thing that had been occupying her mind since that morning: Malfoy’s note. She recalled the faint knock of a black owl at her window before dawn, its sharp eyes gleaming as it waited for her to untie the folded parchment from its leg.

Granger, So, uh… I don’t even know how this happened, but here I am writing you. Don’t know why, but here we are. I guess I want to see you again. Weird, right? Like… really weird. But yeah, you’ve left a, uh, impression. A strong one. I guess. You’ve definitely got a way of… keeping me, uh, interested. That’s something. And we’re friends now, right? Look, I know you’re busy. Or, I don’t know, maybe not? But if you ever get a moment—or if you don’t, whatever—come by my place. It’ll be… fun? Or not. Who knows. It’s just… come by. You know where. Or if you don’t, you’ll find the address on the back. D.

Hermione had read it at least ten times since discovering it, and each time, it elicited a new reaction—amusement, curiosity, a faint blush. The tone was so unlike the Malfoy she remembered from Hogwarts, with its hesitant phrasing and awkward sincerity. Was he drunk when he wrote it? she wondered with a soft laugh. The thought of a tipsy Draco Malfoy pouring his thoughts onto parchment was so absurd it bordered on endearing.

But beyond the humor of it, there was something about the note that felt… personal. He had clearly struggled to write it, evident in the crossed-out words and the way his typically sharp handwriting seemed rushed, almost uncertain. She found herself oddly charmed by the vulnerability it suggested—a side of him she hadn’t expected to see.

Still, the invitation itself was bold. Meeting at his place? After only talking twice? It felt sudden, even reckless. Yet, the more she thought about it, the more her curiosity grew. What was his life like now? Where did he live? She realized how little she actually knew about him beyond what he’d shared in their recent conversations. Everything else was rooted in the past—in the boy he used to be. And that boy, she reminded herself, wasn’t who he was anymore.

Did he still live at Malfoy Manor? No. The address in the envelope indicated somewhere else. That actually made her feel relieved. The idea of stepping into that place made her stomach twist with unease. She couldn’t imagine Draco living there alone, surrounded by memories of his family and the war. But if not the Manor, then where? What kind of home would he have built for himself? Would it be grand and imposing, or something more modest? What secrets would it reveal about the man he had become?

As she turned the corner onto her street, the brunette found herself smiling faintly. The note had been a pleasant surprise, and the prospect of seeing him again stirred something in her—a mix of intrigue and a subtle thrill she hadn’t felt in years. She hadn’t yet decided if this was a good idea despite sending a note with her acceptance, but the truth was, she did want to go.

By the time she reached her flat, the decision had settled quietly in her mind. She would go. It wasn’t just about satisfying her curiosity; it was about understanding the Draco Malfoy of now—the man who had sat across from her in that pub and spoken with honesty and depth she hadn’t expected. The man who, against all odds, seemed to want to be her friend.

Hermione glanced at the clock as she shrugged off her coat and boots. It was just after five. She had a few hours before she needed to leave, and the anticipation buzzed faintly in her chest. Whatever awaited her at eight o’clock, she was certain it would be anything but boring.

..............................................................................................................................

Malfoy paced the cramped back room of Roscoe’s Rare Rarities, his boots scuffing against the worn wooden floor. The shop, nestled on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, was as shabby as its owner, Roscoe Bramble. Roscoe was a middle-aged man with a face that seemed perpetually twisted into a sneer, as though he’d tasted something foul and never quite recovered. His skin was pale and blotchy, with a sallow undertone that gave him a perpetually sickly appearance. A greasy curtain of thinning, ash-gray hair fell limply to his shoulders, framing his gaunt face in uneven, unwashed strands. 

His personality was as unpleasant as his appearance. The man treated him like scum. It was beneath him, all of it, but he’d learned to endure it. What choice did he have? A pure-blood name didn’t mean much anymore, not when it came with his kind of baggage. And yes, Malfoy could buy the wretched place in a heartbeat if he wanted to but something inside him told him he had to endure it as punishment for his sins, so he showed up to work everyday.

He raked a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. Bloody idiot. That was the third time he’d scolded himself since sunrise. He couldn’t stop replaying the reckless decision he’d made the night before—penning that clumsy, drunken note to Hermione Granger of all people. What in Merlin’s name had possessed him?

He leaned heavily against the table with his silver-grey eyes fixed on a point just beyond the shelves of half-finished enchantments. At first, he’d been mortified by his actions, fully prepared to find the note discarded or unanswered. But then she had responded— she’d said yes. That alone had sent his already anxious mind spiraling into uncharted territory. She was coming to his place tonight.

His home.

Home. The word felt ironic. His place was a far cry from the grandeur of Malfoy Manor. It was a small, secluded cabin nestled in the mountains on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, hidden so well that no passerby would ever stumble upon it. He had built it himself—every plank of wood, every charm that fortified its walls, was his own work. It wasn’t much, but it was his sanctuary, a place where the world couldn’t touch him. And now, for the first time, someone else would step inside. Not just anyone— her.

He resumed pacing, running both hands through his hair now. He was nervous, yes, but there was more to it than that. He was anxious to be alone with her. The last time they’d been alone—truly alone—was at that abandoned house where she’d Apparated them. He’d tripped over his own feet, stumbled into her space, and instinctively grabbed her by the waist to steady himself.

The memory hit him like a gust of icy wind, sharp and undeniable. Her waist had felt impossibly small under his hands, and there had been a moment—a fleeting, impossible moment—when their eyes locked, and the air between them shifted. There was tension, undeniable and electric, and he’d had to summon every ounce of restraint not to lean in, not to kiss her.

Malfoy groaned aloud, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re pathetic,” he muttered. It was absurd to feel this way. He had met her twice— twice. And yet, those conversations had unraveled something inside him. In those fleeting hours, he had opened up to her in a way he hadn’t with anyone else. He’d told her things, shared pieces of himself he’d kept buried for years. It was terrifying—scary in a way he hadn’t felt since he was a boy, hiding from Voldemort’s wrath in his own home.

And then there was the other part, the part that made his chest tighten and his pulse quicken. Granger—Hermione—was beautiful. Not in some superficial way that he could dismiss or compartmentalize. She was beautiful in a way that unsettled him, made him notice things he hadn’t before. The curve of her smile, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was thinking, the fire in her eyes when she argued a point. It was maddening.

He hated how much he noticed. He hated how much he cared. But what unnerved him most of all was the realization that he didn’t hate her—not anymore. Not since Azkaban, not since the war. The boy who had insulted her, belittled her, called her Mudblood was gone. And what remained was a man who found himself utterly captivated by her.

But what did he have to offer her? A broken man with nothing to his name, barely scraping by in a dead-end job. A hermit, hated by the wizarding society. A useless drunk.

He hadn’t been intimate with anyone in years. Not since that clumsy first time with Pansy in their school days—a memory he’d rather forget—and a fleeting kiss with Astoria that hadn’t led to anything more. His life had been consumed by darkness and survival. There had been no time for affection, no room for love.

Draco’s chest tightened as he thought about tonight. What would she think of him? Of his home, his life, his vulnerability? He wasn’t sure what terrified him more—that she would reject him outright or that she might see something in him worth saving. Both prospects felt equally dangerous.

He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the work in front of him. He realized he was overthinking things. But even as his hands moved through the familiar motions of enchanting a set of brass scales, his mind was elsewhere—on her, on the way she had looked at him, and on the terrifying, exhilarating possibility of what tonight might bring.

He took a slow sip of his drink, savoring the taste before returning to his work.

..............................................................................................................................

The hours had melted away without her noticing. Hermione had spent the better part of the afternoon trying to focus on her work, yet her mind had drifted constantly to the evening ahead. Now, the clock on her mantle ticked forward relentlessly, and when she glanced up, it was already half an hour before eight. Her heart thudded in her chest, a nervous rhythm that she couldn’t ignore. It was time to go.

She had opted for simplicity tonight, though she had agonized over her choice more than she cared to admit. In the end, she decided on a pair of fitted muggle jeans, a soft purple V-neck sweater, and plain black combat boots—comfortable but understated. Her hair was pulled into a single braid, with a few loose strands framing her face. A small purple bow at the end of the braid added a delicate touch, complementing her silver locket that rested against her collarbone, the kind that opened to reveal tiny, cherished photographs inside.

Ginny had taught her a subtle makeup charm months ago, one that accentuated her natural features without making her look too done up. Hermione had been hesitant at first but was now grateful for it. The charm brightened her complexion, made her eyes stand out just a little more, and gave her lips a soft rose tint. It wasn’t flashy—it was perfect.

Over her outfit, she slipped into her favorite winter coat, warm and well-worn, paired with a pink scarf and matching gloves that her parents had sent her last Christmas. She hesitated for a moment before grabbing a bottle of her favorite muggle wine from the counter. With the bottle in hand and a final glance at the clock, she steeled herself.

The moment she stepped out of her flat, she froze. The same black carriage and magical creatures from the other night stood waiting by the curb. The driver—a tall, older wizard with a graying beard—gave her a slight bow.

“Miss Granger,” he said formally, his voice low but polite, “I’ve been instructed to take you to Master Malfoy.”

Hermione blinked in surprise. “Oh—I wasn’t expecting…”

“Mr. Malfoy said to ensure you arrived safely,” the man interrupted. His tone brooked no argument, but it wasn’t unkind. “Please, allow me to drive you.”

She hesitated, glancing at the carriage and then back at the driver. It wasn’t the arrangement she had anticipated, but she could hardly argue. “Alright,” she said finally, stepping forward.

The driver opened the carriage door for her, and she climbed inside. Once the door shut, the creatures stirred, and the carriage lifted gently into the night sky.

Through the small, frosted windows, Hermione could see the world below. December clung to the landscape stubbornly; patches of snow still covered rooftops and fields, though puddles from the melting snow glimmered in the moonlight. The night was clear, the stars bright and cold, scattered like shards of ice across a deep indigo sky. The air outside was undoubtedly freezing, but inside the carriage, she was warm, her breath no longer misting with every exhale.

As they soared past the lights of Hogsmeade, Hermione couldn’t help but marvel at the quiet beauty of the village. It looked like a scene from one of her favorite Christmas novels, the streets lined with dimly glowing lamps and the shopfronts adorned with garlands of holly and charmed icicles that never melted.

But as they moved farther from the village and into the outskirts, the atmosphere shifted. The warm glow of Hogsmeade gave way to open fields and dense shadows. The carriage descended gently into an area so dark and desolate it sent a chill through Hermione despite her warm coat.

The creatures came to a halt, and the driver stepped down, opening the door for her once more. “This is where I leave you, Miss Granger,” he said.

Hermione stepped out hesitantly, clutching the wine bottle a little tighter. “Wait—there’s nothing here,” she said, looking around nervously. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“The exact instructions given by Mr. Malfoy, Miss,” the driver replied with a slight bow. Before she could ask further, he returned to the carriage, and with a snap of the reins, it lifted into the air and disappeared into the night.

Hermione stood there, her breath quickening as she glanced around. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint rustle of the wind. The trees nearby cast long, twisted shadows, and there was no sign of any habitation. For a moment, doubt and fear clawed at her chest. Was this some kind of joke?

Before she could act on her unease, a sharp crack of apparition split the air. Malfoy appeared before her, cloaked entirely in black.

She startled, stepping back instinctively. “Granger,” he said smoothly, his lips curling into a small, knowing smirk. “You made it on time.”

“Malfoy!” she blurted, still catching her breath. “I thought you said we’d meet at your place.”

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in his silver eyes. “We are.” He extended his hand toward her. “Take my hand.”

Hermione frowned, her grip tightening on the wine bottle. “But—”

“I won’t bite,” he said with a low chuckle, his smirk softening into something almost reassuring.

She hesitated for a heartbeat longer before reaching out and slipping her gloved hand into his. His hand was warm, surprisingly steady, and the moment her fingers brushed his, a strange current seemed to spark between them.

Without another word, Malfoy turned on the spot, and the world blurred and twisted as they apparated.

When the dizzying sensation subsided, Hermione found herself standing in a cozy cabin. The air was warm, filled with the faint scent of cedar and the crackling of a fire. She blinked, taking in her surroundings—the rustic wooden walls, the simple but sturdy furniture, and the soft glow of magical lanterns casting a golden light. It was nothing like she’d imagined, but it felt…safe.

“Welcome,” Malfoy said, releasing her hand as he stepped toward the fireplace. “This is my home.”

Malfoy leaned against the arm of the couch, his arms crossed casually over his chest, but his gaze was far from indifferent as it followed her. She stood just inside the doorway, her cloak still wrapped around her and her eyes darting around his cabin. She wasn’t speaking, but her reactions were all too telling—the slight parting of her lips, the way her fingertips brushed the edge of her scarf as if she were grounding herself. She took in everything—he could see it in the way her gaze lingered on the fire, on the clean lines of the furniture, on the window that framed the dark woods beyond.

She wasn’t unimpressed, that much was clear, but there was a hint of something else in her expression—uncertainty, maybe, or surprise. She hadn’t expected this. He knew most people assumed anything associated with him would be dripping in opulence, gilded and overdone. But this? This was quiet. Controlled. Intentional.

“You can leave your cloak on the couch,” he said.

Hermione blinked as though she’d been pulled from her thoughts, then unclasped her cloak and slid it off her shoulders. The firelight caught the shimmer of her purple sweater as she folded the cloak neatly and placed it on the back of the couch, and Malfoy’s eyes instinctively followed the movement.

Muggle jeans. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her in them before, but Merlin, they suited her. They hugged her figure in ways her robes never had, accentuating the soft curves of her hips and legs. He didn’t think jeans were meant to look particularly remarkable on anyone—they were, after all, common and unassuming—but on her, they were captivating.

The purple sweater she was wearing was soft, more delicate, the v-neck just deep enough to show the faint line of her collarbone. It was feminine in a way that was both subtle and striking, and he caught himself lingering on it longer that he would’ve liked. 

He figured she wasn’t trying to dazzle anyone tonight. That much was obvious in her choice of simple, practical boots, her hair tied back but not in a way that tried to tame every strand. And yet, in her simplicity, she was stunning. Effortlessly beautiful in a way that made it hard for him to look away.

As her eyes moved back to him, he straightened slightly, pretending he hadn’t been studying her so closely. She shifted under his gaze and her hands brushed over her jeans in a nervous gesture.

“Do you always stare like that?” she asked, caughting him off guard though he didn’t show it.

He smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Only when there’s something worth staring at,” he replied smoothly, and the faint color that bloomed in her cheeks told him she wasn’t as unaffected as she was trying to seem.

He stepped away from the couch, gesturing toward the hearth. “Make yourself at home, Granger.”

She hesitated, glancing toward the fire, and he couldn’t help but watch the way the soft golden light played against her skin. If she felt as out of place as she seemed, she wasn’t letting it show entirely. But then again, he thought, this was Hermione Granger. She never backed down, even when she didn’t know exactly what she’d walked into. And neither did he.

Malfoy’s gaze flicked to the bottle of wine Hermione had set carefully on the small table near the hearth. He let a slow smirk curve his lips, tilting his head just slightly as he remarked, “I see you did indeed bring some wine.”

Hermione turned toward him, her hands fiddling with the ends of her scarf before she pulled it loose and folded it neatly over the back of the couch. “Oh, yes,” she said, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a flicker of uncertainty. “It’s muggle wine, though. I hope that’s... okay.”

He raised a brow, surprised by the faint vulnerability in her words. “I don’t mind it at all,” he said smoothly, his voice lower than he intended, lingering somewhere between assurance and intrigue.

An awkward silence fell between them, stretching out like a taut string. She shifted her weight, her gaze briefly darting around the room before landing on the fire. The light from the hearth caught the faint glimmer of her locket, and he found his eyes drawn to it for just a moment before she broke the silence.

“You have a lovely home, Malfoy,” she said, her voice soft but sincere, her lips curving into a small, tentative smile.

“Thank you,” he replied in a measured tone as his smirk left his face. The compliment felt strangely significant coming from her, as though it carried more weight than he was prepared to examine.

“I, uh…” She hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of the couch. “I thought you still lived at the manor.”

At her words, Malfoy froze, the smirk vanishing completely. He flinched—not enough to be obvious, but enough that he felt it in his chest. His jaw tightened for half a second before he forced it to relax. “I couldn’t stand the place anymore,” he said at last, his voice steady, leaving no room for doubt or questions. There was finality in the statement, and he left it there, unwilling to elaborate.

To break the tension, he waved his wand, summoning two glasses from a shelf on the far side of the room. They floated gracefully to the table where the bottle of wine sat, landing with the faintest clink. With a flick of his wrist, he uncorked the bottle and the rich, ruby liquid poured effortlessly into each glass.

He picked up one of the glasses and handed it to her and his fingers brushed against hers for the briefest moment—a moment that felt far longer than it should have. Her lips parted, but she didn’t pull away. He lifted his own glass and locked his gray with hers.

With his free hand, he gestured toward the couch near the fire, the soft leather gleaming in the flickering light. “Sit,” he said in a quieter voice.

Hermione hesitated for a fraction of a second, her gaze darting between him and the couch, before she moved toward it. She sat down, smoothing the fabric of her sweater as her shoulders relaxed slightly.

He followed, taking a seat beside her—not too close, but close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her. 

“To our third time speaking,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. He added, almost teasingly, “...friend.”

Her smile widened, though he caught the flicker of something else behind it—something curious and unspoken. She raised her glass and her warm brown eyes met his with a steady intensity that made his breath catch for a moment. “Cheers… friend,” she said in a soft tone, her hazel eyes locked on his.

He could feel his heartbeat pounding—he was nervous. But there was no way in hell he’d let her notice.

Their glasses clinked together, the sound sharp and intimate in the quiet room. Neither of them moved to drink right away. For a moment, the only movement was the firelight dancing across their faces as their gazes held, unyielding. Her lips curved just slightly, her cheeks faintly flushed—whether from the fire’s warmth or something else, he wasn’t sure.

Then, finally, she broke the spell, taking a slow sip of the wine. He followed suit, letting the rich, slightly tart flavor linger on his tongue.

“It’s good,” he said, his voice lower than before with his eyes still on her.

She nodded, glancing at her glass and then back at him. “You seem surprised.”

“Not surprised,” he countered, the smirk returning to his lips, “just... impressed.”

Her brow arched, and he couldn’t help but notice the faint quirk of amusement tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said lightly, her voice carrying just a hint of challenge.

He leaned back slightly, his fingers trailing lazily along the edge of his glass as he watched her. “You should.”

Draco watched as she set her glass down and her fingers lingered on the stem as though deep in thought. The firelight painted her face in soft golds and reds, but it was the shadows in her eyes that held him captive.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” she said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“What is?” he asked with curiosity.

“Being here,” she replied, her gaze flicking from the fire to him. “Together.”

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Strange how?”

Her lips parted slightly, and she hesitated as though weighing her words. “We’re not exactly… friends, are we?”

Was she nervous? He thought. Draco’s mouth quirked into a smirk. “You’re the one who wanted to shake hands for friendship the other day, Granger. Wasn’t that supposed to make it official?”

She gave a soft, humorless laugh, shaking her head. “Right. Friendship. That’s exactly what this feels like.”

Something about the way she said it, the faint edge in her tone, made him sit up straighter. He studied her, his grey eyes searching her face for a clue—any clue—about what she was really thinking.

“It’s not friendship you’re after, then?” he asked, the words coming out before he could stop them. His brow arched with curiosity.

Her gaze snapped to his, sharp and piercing, but she didn’t look away. “What makes you think I’m after anything?”

The air between them felt charged, the kind of tension that made his skin prickle. He wanted to say something clever, something cutting, but his tongue felt heavy. Instead, he reached for the wine bottle and poured himself another glass.

“More?” he offered, gesturing to her glass.

“Sure,” she said, holding it out. Their fingers brushed once more as he handed it back to her, and he was acutely aware of the warmth of her skin, the softness of her touch. She flinched when this happened and he couldn’t help but smile at her reaction. She was definitely nervous too.

They drank in silence, occasionally stealing furtive glances at each other. Tension was palpable in the room.

“What are you thinking?” he asked finally, unable to bear it any longer.

Her brow furrowed slightly, and she took a long sip of her wine before answering. “I’m thinking that I never thought I’d end up here, with you, of all people.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” he said, his voice quieter than he intended.

She tilted her head, studying him again with that same unsettling intensity. “Why did you invite me, Malfoy?”

He hesitated, his fingers tightening around his glass. “Because I wanted to,” he said simply, though the words felt insufficient even as he said them.

Her lips curved into a faint smile, but there was something almost sad about it. “You’re not exactly the open-book type, are you?”

He laughed, a dry, humorless sound. “And you are?”

Hermione didn’t answer right away. Instead, she drained her glass and set it down on the table. “I think we’ve finished the wine,” she said in a light tone.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “I’ve got firewhisky,” he offered.

She raised her brow in return. “Of course you do.”

A flick of his wand summoned the bottle and two small tumblers. He poured generously, sliding one toward her. She picked it up and gave it a quick sniff, wrinkling her nose slightly before taking a cautious sip.

“Strong,” she muttered and he could notice her cheeks were already pink from the wine.

“That’s the point,” he said, leaning back and swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

They drank slowly, the firewhisky loosening their tongues but not quite enough to ease the tension entirely.

“Do you ever think about it?” she asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Think about what?” he asked, though he was almost afraid to hear the answer.

“The war. Everything we did—everything we didn’t do.”

Malfoy’s throat tightened, and he took a long sip before answering. “All the time.”

Hermione nodded, staring into her glass as though it held the answers to all her questions. “Me too.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than before, but this time, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. It was a shared weight, an unspoken understanding that didn’t need words.

When she looked at him again, her eyes were softer, warmer, and yet there was still that flicker of something he couldn’t quite name.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Her smile was faint, almost imperceptible. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to figure me out,” he said in a low voice.

“Maybe I am,” she said softly, her gaze never leaving his.

Malfoy swallowed hard, feeling the firewhisky burning a trail down his throat. His pulse was racing again, and for a moment, he thought about leaning closer, about closing the distance between them. 

But then she leaned back, breaking the moment. “You’re impossible, Malfoy,” she said, her tone teasing but her expression serious.

He smirked, though his chest ached with something he didn’t want to name. “And you’re infuriating, Granger.”

They both laughed, the sound cutting through the tension like a knife. But as they finished their drinks and reached for the bottle again, the blond couldn’t shake the feeling that this night—this strange, unexpected night—was only the beginning of something neither of them could quite control.

They drank in silence, the only sounds in the room the crackling fire and the faint clink of glass against glass. Draco occasionally stole furtive glances at her, only to find that, sometimes, she was already looking at him. Her warm brown eyes would flit away quickly, but not before something unspoken passed between them, something that made the air feel heavier, hotter.

What the fuck is this? The thought flickered in his mind, sharp and insistent, as he took another sip of firewhisky. He could feel the tension building between them—thick, almost tangible. Was it the drinks? Or was it something else entirely, something that had been simmering beneath the surface long before she’d stepped into his home?

For brief, dizzying moments, he caught himself thinking she might actually be flirting with him. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? And yet… the way she twirled a strand of hair around her finger as she spoke, her voice soft but layered with something he couldn’t quite place. The way her gaze lingered on him just a beat too long, scanning him as though trying to uncover some secret. And then there was the way her eyes—those maddeningly expressive eyes—would drop to his mouth with the barest hesitation before she looked away again.

He couldn’t deny it: his gaze had done the same. It had drifted, unbidden, to her lips. Soft, slightly parted, tempting in a way that made his pulse quicken. He didn’t know if it was the firewhisky coursing through his veins or the sheer absurdity of sitting here with Granger of all people, but for the first time in years, he felt completely unmoored.

The night had settled into a comfortable haze, the fire crackling softly in the background as the firewhisky bottle teetered dangerously close to empty. Draco’s thoughts were beginning to swim, but there was a strange sense of ease in the air now, a break in the tension that had clung to them since they’d first sat down.

Granger, on the other hand, was clearly well past her first round of tipsiness. Her movements were a little more exaggerated, her words a touch slurred, and her laugh—louder than usual—rang in the quiet cabin. Malfoy found it strangely endearing.

“So,” she began, her voice higher than usual, the question hanging between them. “Why did you always push your hair back like that? It was... perfect. Like you had some magic gel or something.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, dry amusement tugging at his lips. “Magic gel? You honestly think I worried about hair products, Granger?”

She tilted her head, clearly tipsy but still sharp enough to poke fun. “You were so obsessed with it. Always perfect. It was like it had its own magic.”

“Oh, so now you’re a hair expert?” he teased. “You, who couldn’t tame your bushy mess?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she shot him a mock-glare. “Excuse me, my hair was natural. Not some slicked-back monstrosity.”

“Natural?” Draco smirked. “You mean wild and untamed, just like you.”

Granger gasped, hand clutching her chest in mock horror. “How dare you? My hair was always—”

“—unruly?” Draco interrupted with a laugh, leaning back comfortably. “It looked like a bird’s nest half the time.”

She flushed deeper but couldn’t help but laugh, the alcohol making her too relaxed to argue. “Fine, but you must’ve used some spell. There’s no way your hair was that perfect on its own.”

Draco shrugged nonchalantly, his voice dripping with arrogance. “It’s called being naturally magnificent, Granger.”

She snorted. “Naturally magnificent, huh? So you were born with perfect hair and an inflated ego?”

“Exactly,” he replied, leaning in slightly. “Glad you finally caught on.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I always knew you were full of yourself.”

Draco chuckled. “You think you’ve figured me out?”

“I’ve always been good at that,” she said in a soft voice. “You’re complicated. Not what you seem.”

He met her eyes. “And you think you know me, Granger?”

“I do. I know you’re not as perfect as you want everyone to believe.”

The drinks flowed steadily and their conversation grew easier, though the tension never fully dissipated. He caught himself laughing at something she said—an honest, unrestrained laugh that startled him. When was the last time he’d done that? She laughed too, her cheeks flushed and her posture more relaxed than when she’d first sat down.

Hours passed in a blur of slow sips and stolen glances, the bottle of firewhisky nearly empty between them. By now, Granger was drunk—properly drunk. It was there in the looseness of her movements, the slight slur to her words, the way she tilted her head when she looked at him as though studying him from a new angle.

And then, suddenly, she shifted closer.

Draco froze for a moment, his glass poised mid-air. She’d been sitting on the far end of the couch all evening, careful to keep some distance between them. But now, she was close enough that her knee brushed against his, the faintest touch that sent a jolt through him.

“Your fire’s dying,” she murmured, glancing toward the hearth, though her gaze didn’t linger there for long.

“I can fix it,” he replied in a voice lower than he intended.

“Don’t,” she said quickly, turning back to him. Her face was close—closer than it had been all night. “I like it like this. It’s… cozy.”

Her words lingered in the air, and Draco wasn’t sure if it was the firewhisky, the dim light, or the way her voice dipped ever so slightly when she said cozy, but the tension between them felt unbearable now.

He set his glass down slowly and his fingers started brushing against hers as she did the same. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned back against the couch angling her body toward him. He couldn’t help but notice the way her chest rose and fell and the slight flush that crept up her neck. She looked so beautiful.

“Malfoy,” she said softly, almost lazily, her voice carrying the hint of a slur. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He hadn’t realized he’d been staring. His mouth felt dry, and he struggled to find something—anything—to say.

“I’m not,” he lied, his voice a little rough.

She smirked, a slow, knowing curve of her lips that made his heart pound in his chest. “Yes, you are.”

Her confidence startled him, but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. Her knee was still pressed lightly against his, and now, she shifted even closer, her thigh brushing his. He felt her warmth, smelled the faint, intoxicating mix of firewhisky, vanilla and something undeniably her.

“You’ve changed,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze flicked to his lips again, lingering this time, and he was acutely aware of how his breath hitched.

“So have you,” he replied, his tone low and steady, though his heart was racing.

Her lips quirked into something softer, almost wistful, and then she spoke again in a tender tone. “I like it,” she said, her words threading through the quiet room and wrapping tightly around him. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, holding him captive in her gaze. “Quite a lot.”

He opened his mouth to say something, though he wasn’t sure what, but before he could form a thought, she moved. Her hands came up and her fingers grazed his jaw before settling firmly on either side of his face. The suddenness of the touch made him inhale sharply, but her hands were soft, steady, and impossibly warm.

“I like it very much,” she said in a softer and seductive voice now, more deliberate. Her words sent a shiver down his spine.

Draco’s breath hitched again as she leaned in, her eyes closing just before her lips brushed his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative and slow, but the sheer intimacy of it stunned him. He froze, his eyes wide open in surprise as the warmth of her lips pressed against his.

His heart slammed against his ribs, and he felt heat rise to his face, his body locked in place. He could barely process it— Granger was kissing him and her lips were soft and insistent, delicious. Her hands still cradling his face as though daring him to pull away.

But he didn’t.

After a moment that felt both like an eternity and a single breath, something in him gave way. His eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into the kiss moving his lips against hers with a growing urgency. He could taste the faint traces of firewhisky on her mouth along with some notes of vanilla, and he could feel the way her hands tightened ever so slightly against his skin as though anchoring herself to him. 

For a moment, it was just the feel of her mouth against his, the taste of firewhisky lingering on her tongue as she deepened the kiss but suddenly, his hands moved of their own accord, one tangling in her hair, the other gripping her waist firmly, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. This, he thought, this is what I’ve been trying to fight. But there was no fighting it now. Not when she kissed him like she needed him to breathe. 

Her hands slid up his chest, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring herself to him. Every touch, every breath, every beat of his heart was consumed by her. He could feel the heat of her skin through the thin material of her sweater and the way her body pressed against his, and it was all too much and not nearly enough. She let out a soft moan as she pressed herself against him and the sound was like bliss on his ears. It felt maddening. He had to fight every inch of his will not to let himself go. He wanted her. But he knew she was drunk and didn’t want to take advantage of her, although corresponding the kiss felt like that a little, but he couldn’t help it.

When they finally broke apart, it wasn’t abrupt. She pulled back slowly, her eyes opening to meet his, their faces still close enough that he could feel her breath on his skin. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen, and her gaze—steady and unwavering—held something he couldn’t quite name.

He swallowed hard, his own breath uneven as he tried to collect himself. “Granger,” he started, his voice barely audible, but the way her thumb brushed lightly against his lips silenced him.

“Don’t,” she said softly, her voice tinged with something close to a plea. “Don’t ruin it.”

Draco nodded, unsure of what else to do, his chest tight with emotions he didn’t know how to name. For once, he let the silence stretch between them, the tension still thick but now laced with something deeper, something impossible to ignore.

She lingered close, her breath warm against his cheek as her hands slowly slipped from his face, though her fingertips brushed his jaw one last time before falling to her lap. Her eyes, still locked with his, held a strange mixture of confidence and vulnerability, like she was both certain of herself and terrified at the same time.

“Come with me,” she said suddenly in a soft but firm voice.

Malfoy blinked, her words catching him completely off guard. “Go with you where?” he asked, his tone sharper than he intended with evident surprise.

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, and she straightened a little, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “The Christmas Ministry Ball,” she said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

His brow arched, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her correctly. “You want me to go to the Ministry Ball?” he asked, his tone laced with disbelief.

Her expression didn’t waver, though he noticed the way her fingers twisted slightly in her lap, betraying her nerves. “Yes, you,” she replied, her voice steady but quieter now. “Unless, of course, you’re too scared to spend an evening with me.”

The challenge in her words made his lips twitch and the hint of a smirk threatened to form. He leaned back slightly, studying her. “Why would you want me there, Granger?”

She hesitated for only a second and her eyes dropped briefly before meeting his again. “Because I don’t want to go alone,” she admitted in a softer voice. “And because… I think you’d surprise people.”

Draco’s smirk finally emerged, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Surprise people? Or scandalize them?”

“Maybe both,” she said, her gaze searching his. “But I don’t care about what they think. I’d love for you to go with me.”

He stared at her for a long moment, her words sinking in, the intensity of her gaze making his chest tighten. The idea of attending a Ministry Ball— with Hermione Granger, of all people —was absurd, utterly ridiculous. And yet, as he sat there, his thigh still brushing hers, he couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward her, the curiosity, the tension that buzzed between them like a live wire.

“You’re serious,” he finally said.

“I am,” she replied. “So? Are you coming with me, or not?”

Draco exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping to her lips for the briefest of moments before returning to her eyes. He didn’t answer right away. But something in her eyes—something warm and unyielding—made it hard to say no.

“Fine,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll go. But I warn you, it might cause some trouble for you. People seeing you with me, it’ll be complicated.”

Hermione leaned in just a little closer, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I love complicated.”*

The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You're mad," he said softly, but there was no malice in it. Just a hint of something he couldn’t name.

He leaned back against the couch, his gaze never leaving hers, and for the first time in a long while, he felt the weight of the moment, the pull of something unpredictable and dangerously real.

“Fine," he repeated, his voice quieter now, as if the words were more than just a promise—they were a beginning.

"Then let’s see how complicated this really gets.”

..............................................................................................................................

* Quote from Kill Your Darlings (2013) film directed by John Krokidas

Full Story in AO3:

[mariacallous]

Addressing a single executive order from Donald Trump’s voluminous first-day edicts is like singling out one bullet in a burst from an AK-47. But one of them hit me in the gut. That is “Establishing and Implementing the President’s Department of Government Efficiency.’’ The acronym for that name is DOGE (named after a memecoin), and it’s the Elon Musk–led effort to cut government spending by a trillion bucks or two. Though DOGE was, until this week, pitched as an outside body, this move makes it an official part of government—by embedding it in an existing agency that was formerly part of the Office of Management and Budget called the United States Digital Service. The latter will now be known as the US DOGE Service, and its new head will be more tightly connected to the president, reporting to his chief of staff.

The new USDS will apparently shift its former laser focus on building cost-efficient and well-designed software for various agencies to a hardcore implementation of the Musk vision. It’s kind of like a government version of a SPAC, the dodgy financial maneuver that launched Truth Social in the public market without ever having to reveal a coherent business plan to underwriters.

The order is surprising in a sense because, on its face, DOGE seems more limited than its original super ambitious pitch. This iteration seems more tightly centered on saving money through streamlining and modernizing the government’s massive and messy IT infrastructure. There are big savings to be had, but a handful of zeros short of trillions. As of yet, it’s uncertain whether Musk will become the DOGE administrator. It doesn’t seem big enough for him. (The first USDS director, Mikey Dickerson, jokingly posted on LinkedIn, “I’d like to congratulate Elon Musk on being promoted to my old job.”) But reportedly Musk pushed for this structure as a way to embed DOGE in the White House. I hear that inside the Executive Office Building, there are numerous pink Post-it notes claiming space even beyond USDS’s turf, including one such note on the former chief information officers’ enviable office. So maybe this could be a launch pad for a more sweeping effort that will eliminate whole agencies and change policies. (I was unable to get a White House representative to answer questions, which isn’t surprising considering that there are dozens of other orders that equally beg for explanation.)

One thing is clear—this ends United States Digital Service as it previously existed, and marks a new, and maybe perilous era for the USDS, which I have been enthusiastically covering since its inception. The 11-year-old agency sprang out of the high-tech rescue squad salvaging the mess that was Healthcare.gov, the hellish failure of a website that almost tanked the Affordable Care Act. That intrepid team of volunteers set the template for the agency: a small group of coders and designers who used internet-style techniques (cloud not mainframe; the nimble “agile” programming style instead of the outdated “waterfall” technique) to make government tech as nifty as the apps people use on their phones. Its soldiers, often leaving lucrative Silicon Valley jobs, were lured by the prospect of public service. They worked out of the agency’s funky brownstone headquarters on Jackson Place, just north of the White House. The USDS typically took on projects that were mired in centi-million contracts and never completed—delivering superior results within weeks. It would embed its employees in agencies that requested help, being careful to work collaboratively with the lifers in the IT departments. A typical project involved making DOD military medical records interoperable with the different systems used by the VA. The USDS became a darling of the Obama administration, a symbol of its affiliation with cool nerddom.

During the first Trump administration, deft maneuvering kept the USDS afloat—it was the rare Obama initiative that survived. Its second-in-command, Haley Van Dyck, cleverly got buy-in from Trump’s in-house fixer, Jared Kushner. When I went to meet Kushner for an off-the-record talk early in 2017, I ran into Van Dyck in the West Wing; she gave me a conspiratorial nod that things were looking up, at least for the moment. Nonetheless, the four Trump years became a balancing act in sharing the agency’s achievements while somehow staying under the radar. “At Disney amusement parks, they paint things that they want to be invisible with this certain color of green so that people don't notice it in passing,” one USDSer told me. “We specialized in painting ourselves that color of green.” When Covid hit, that became a feat in itself, as USDS worked closely with White House coronavirus response coordinator Deborah Birx on gathering statistics—some of which the administration wasn’t eager to publicize.

By the end of Trump’s term, the green paint was wearing thin. A source tells me that at one point a Trump political appointee noticed—not happily—that USDS was recruiting at tech conferences for lesbians and minorities, and asked why. The answer was that it was an effective way to find great product managers and designers. The appointee accepted that but asked if, instead of putting “Lesbians Who Tech” on the reimbursement line, could they just say LWT?

Under Biden no subterfuge was needed—the USDS thrived. But despite many months of effort, it could not convince Congress to give it permanent funding. With the return of Trump, and his promises to cut government spending, there was reason to think that USDS would evaporate. That’s why the DOGE move is kind of bittersweet—at least it now has more formal recognition and ostensibly will get a reliable budget line.

How will the integration work? The executive order mandates that in addition to normal duties the USDS director will also head a temporary organization “dedicated to advancing the President’s 18-month DOGE agenda.” That agenda is not clearly defined, but elsewhere the order speaks of improving the quality and efficiency of government-wide software, systems, and infrastructure. More specific is the mandate to embed four-person teams inside every agency to help realize the DOGE agenda. The order is very explicit that the agency must provide “full and prompt access to all unclassified agency records, software systems, and IT systems.” Apparently Musk is obsessed with an unprecedented centralization of the data that makes the government go—or not. This somewhat adversarial stance is a dramatic shift from the old USDS MO of working collegially with the lifers inside the agencies.

Demanding all that data might be a good thing. Clare Martorana, who until last week was the nation’s chief information officer, says that while she saw many victories during her eight years in government tech, making big changes has been tough, in large part because of the difficulty of getting such vital data. “We have budget data that is incomprehensible,” she says. “The agency understands it, but they hide money in all kinds of places, so no one can really get a 100,000-foot view. How many open positions do they have? What are the skill sets? What are their top contracts? When are they renegotiating their most important contracts? How much do they spend on operations and maintenance versus R&D or innovation? You should know all these things.” If DOGE gets that information and uses it well, it could be transformational. “Through self-reporting, we spend $120 billion on IT,” she says “If we found all the hidden money and shadow IT, it's $200, $300, maybe $500 billion. We lose a lot of money on technology we buy stupidly, and we don't deliver services to the American public that they deserve.” So this Trump effort could be a great thing? “I’m trying very hard to be optimistic about it,” says Martorana. The USDS’s outgoing director, Mina Hsiang, is also trying to be upbeat. “I think there's a tremendous opportunity,” she says. “ I don't know what [DOGE] will do with it, but I hope that they listen to a lot of great folks who are there.”

On the other hand, those four-person teams could be a blueprint for mayhem. Up until now, USDS would send only engineers and designers into agencies, and their focus was to build things and hopefully set an example for the full-timers to do work like they do at Google or Amazon. The EO dictates only one engineer in a typical four-person team, joined by a lawyer (not known for building stuff), an HR person (known for firing people), and a “team lead” whose job description sounds like a political enforcer: “implementing the president’s DOGE Agenda.” I know that’s a dark view, but Elon Musk —and his new boss—are no strangers to clearing out a workplace. Maybe they’ll figure AI can do things better.

Whichever way it goes, the original Obama-era vibes of the USDS may forever be stilled—to be superseded by a different kind of idealist in MAGA garb. As one insider told me, “USDS leadership is pretty ill equipped to navigate the onslaught of these DOGE guys, and they are going to get the shit kicked out of them.” Though not perfect, the USDS has by dint of hard work, mad skills, and corny idealism, made a difference. Was there really a need to embed the DOGE experiment into an agency that was doing good? And what are the odds that on July 4, 2026, when the “temporary” DOGE experiment is due to end, the USDS will sunset as well? At best, the new initiative might help unravel the near intractable train wreck that is government IT. But at worst, the integration will be like a greedy brain worm wreaking havoc on its host.