#minefanart

[highgaarden]

WAKE WITH THE SPARROWS — harry/hermione, professor, head girl hermione chapter three teaser

They meet again at a funeral.

Hermione is running from Old Sluggy - and he really is getting old now - Harry is, shockingly, trying to find him.

It’s as though someone has pulled these two seconds that their heels skid and their breaths falter, pulled these two infinitesimal seconds and stretched it out into an eternity that he’ll spend thinking about later.

The sun shines, the chatter carries in the wind.

It doesn’t feel right, he thinks, to feel this perverse elation on the day Professor Dumbledore is to be buried, but as the old man liked to say, Fihi ma fihi.

She looks back, and then at him, says, “Hello, Professor Potter,” and the wind carries the occasion back to him.

“I like summer light on you,” he blurts as he hastily puts out his cheroot.

Well.

At a funeral, no less.

Her blush is followed by a scowl of disapproval.

He should feel terrible about it, and he does. Mostly. But hasn’t felt wicked in such a long time - since before the prophecy, since before the war, - since he was a child - that for a moment, he feels oddly free.

[highgaarden]

how i imagine tom and hermione from my fics, in order:

take the bit between your teeth

on fire, bone sore

sunblind

they're the same people, essentially, just in different flavours, different stages of life.

[highgaarden]

A long list of all of Hannah’s favourite fanfiction;

ATOM TRAILS by NoFootprintsInSand

➥They are reading together, they are always reading, on opposite sides of the little room, and she leans her head against the shelf, a minute of rest before she needs to leave again. Because she can remember Harry, she remembers him, she does, but the others are fading and she cannot bear it, she cannot bear to forget them, she must move faster, pick up pieces of her memories as she goes.

But first, some stillness.

It is close to peaceful here, with the smell of leather and paper and his soft breathing from across the room. She could almost be grateful to him for allowing her this, the books and the silence, even though she knows he is only doing it to keep her close. Waiting for his chance to tear her open and read her bones and her brain and her veins, find what she is hiding, why she is orbiting him the way she is.

She is watching him now, how careful he is with the books, how gently he turns the pages, how reverently he reads the dark, heinous words within.

“You love books.”

He turns to her, and his crooked smile is as close to genuine as she has ever seen.

“Yes”, he says. “I think someone must have read to me a lot when I was little. But I can’t remember who.”

[highgaarden]

A long list of all of Hannah’s favourite fanfiction;

UNSPHERE THE STARS by @cocoartistwrites

Tom Riddle was a liar. He'd always been a liar, trained by a cold place where truth earned punishment. A place for children that seemed to hate children. A safe haven that had never felt safe.

Tom Riddle was a liar and, like all those who are deceitful to their souls, it was not so much that he intended to deceive but that he simply did not recognise truth. Liars are not trusting creatures and this silver-tongued demon of a boy was no different.

Tom Riddle was a liar and a dreamer and a doubter and he made his lies real and his dreams become truths and his doubts a leash.

Tom Riddle was a liar and, like all liars, he loved stories.

[highgaarden]

Tom and Hermione as Hogwarts Professors

Tom keeps his journal in Hermione's office because Zabini and Nott are always skulking around in his to raid his liquor cabinet (that, and he begrudgingly admits that Hermione's wards are stronger than his own). On the shelf next to his journal is a book called Snake Venoms and Envenomation, which Hermione insists is useful for Potions—in reality she bought the book after she sees a copy of Pictorial Anatomy of the Kneazle hidden underneath a stack of essays all marked 'Dreadful' when she was in Tom's office looking for her stash of Sugar-free Sugar Quill (he steals those too). After classes are over and dinner is done away with, they retire to one of their chambers to read together. Tonight, they are in Hermione's. As the night wanes on, if Hermione abandons her book to share his (and move closer in the process), Tom says nothing of it.

follow me on my art account @lousiestruby for scribbles, requests, and things resembling art!!

[highgaarden]

Tom and Hermione from take the bit between your teeth; chapter seven sneak peek

The library is unusually crowded, even their quiet little corner. The noise grates on Tom's nerves - he's been agitated as of late, she has no idea why. She nudges her pack of Sugar-free Sugar Quills closer to him, and for a while it seems to work. Until, two hours later, when the tables around them erupt in guffaws over some bastardised version of Gobstones, the last of his Sugar Quill dissolves in his mouth along with his patience.

Tom's hand clenches around his quill. "They're being Very Loud."

"You're capitalising," notes Hermione, not looking up from her anotating. "Is it bothering you?"

"You're being intentionally obtuse."

"And you're being strangely forthright." She looks up when she hears Tom's chair scrape across the stone floor. "Where are you going?"

"Telling them to shut up."

"No violence in the library, Tom." She sighs to punctuate her point, but looks down at her book again to hide her amused smile.

[highgaarden]

take the bit between your teeth; viii. notes on an embryo

The day after the shameful events in Professor Snape’s private potion store, Hermione barricades herself in her favourite study room in the library with three heavy reference books, a smuggled school owl, and a weeks’ worth of owl treats. She does not explain any further.

Harry and Ron do not hear from her, and it is a mark of how accomplished she is at Silencing Charms that they think the room is empty at first when they skulk around the area to look for her.

After doing much of nothing, Ron gives up and goes to have dinner, whilst Harry elects to stay behind. He has with him a First Edition hardcover of Frederica, commandeered from his mum’s secret shelf (hidden so as to not inspire mockery from his father), and slips pages of it through the thin crack beneath the door, thinking the tales of the irrepressible Felix – complete with personal annotations from Georgette Heyer herself – would eventually coax Hermione out. It is a mark of how optimistic Harry James Potter is that he keeps trying, even as Hermione does nothing to reciprocate.

This is how Tom Riddle finds him.

read the rest on ao3 <3

[highgaarden]

Hermione waking up after Tom turns her into a Horcrux in slenderbodies;

She would vomit if she had anything left in her stomach. From the body, from his touch. She felt filthy. She felt unmade. An eggshell cracked. All protective membranes, gone. Hollowed out—no, scooped out, with vicious uncareful hands. There was blood in her mouth and blood in his, too: it dripped from the cracks of his gleaming white teeth when he grinned. She twists her neck away.

“Why?” was all she croaked as she eyed the broken unblinking doll body.

There was silence.

He never cared to speak without an audience. Even if it was just her two beady, bloodshot eyes.

So she looked at him, heart churning for a justification that would most likely be complete and utter shite.

And so he spoke.

“People like me—” Tom stopped and seemed to correct himself. “People like us,” he decided, vindictive, “take what we can.”

She had not understood what he’d meant then, and her brain that isn’t her brain shuddered in her head—visions and dreams that aren’t entirely hers; whispers of brilliance and bile within the same bracket of a thought; pangs of hunger she didn’t recognise deep in the belly that used to belong to Hermione Granger—her brain shuddered, and she wept.

[highgaarden]

meet you at leion's — theo/hermione, unspeakable hermione granger, (???) theodore nott

The solution to everything, Hermione realises with a little huff, turns out not to be found in a book, but in alcohol.

Copious amounts of it.

(or, the one where Hermione goes on a string of blind dates set up by her Muggle childhood friend, and somehow manages to give Theodore Nott a black eye along the way.)

[highgaarden]

take the bit between your teeth (AO3);

It starts at Professor Slughorn's first party at the end of the first month of their first term and it's because Harry, miraculously, comes out first in Potions.

Riddle calls it a sudden … predilection, and he only has a tiny curl at the set of his mouth.

Hermione calls it cheating.

She thinks Riddle would be more inclined to agree if he didn't have his perfectly-polished Prefect badge stuck so far up his arse.

"I mean, it doesn't make any sense," she hisses into her goblet of Something. It smells of pineapples and tastes like a shade of firewhiskey, and Professor Slughorn had only winked when she'd asked what it was. The only other option was pumpkin juice, and – no thank you. "He asked me what sopophorous meant—how can you not be familiar to the properties of the potion you're brewing?"

"We're talking, Granger," Riddle observes, Goblet of Something in his hand.

"And then he asked me what a sopophorous bean was," she continues.

"Though it's not so much 'we' as it is 'you', is it? Because that would require you letting me have a turn to speak."

"He asked me this whilst his stupid textbook was right there—"

"You walked right up to me and just started talking without so much as a preamble."

"Then he had the nerve to point out the technique I was using to extract its juice was wrong."

"One might even go so far as to say we were gossiping," Riddle muses.

"And can we revisit the fact that not only did he not know the properties of a sopophorous bean— which means bringer of deep sleep, by the way – he would know if he'd just read One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, but he does not care to know. He does not. Care. To know."

"Almost as if we were friends," he hums.

[highgaarden]

[highgaarden]

Hermione Granger-Dearborn from "unsphere the stars" by @cocoartistwrites