She wrinkled her nose. “I wouldn’t put it like that.”
“Granger, I can feel claw marks in my back. I think it’s accurate.”
Morning After by Musyc (rated R, 500 words)
Just a really funny and sexy drabble. Not a bad morning to be waking up to. ;)
“Draco, stop that!”
“I’m not doing anything, Granger.”
“You’re smirking at him, this is not a competition!” Hermione hissed, her eyes sliding from Draco to Ron.
He was seated at the bar, his eyes piercing the young couple as they gracefully moved around the dancefloor. Well, Draco was rather gracefull, she was just trying hard not to step on him and decided to call that dancing.
“That scowl will become permanently attached to his ginger face unless he looks away, Granger, I’m smirking into his direction for his own good. Maybe he’ll finally realize you’re with me and stop trying to—”
“—honestly. I’m not an idiot, you’re bragging.”
He twirled her around and their hands touched gently, an electric shock running down her spine at the contact.
“Why wouldn’t I brag? You’re gorgeous and you’re mine. It’s high time he understood that.”
And then he kissed her.
“Granger are you crying?” he whispered. “Hermione?”
She sobbed then, taking gulps of air that did not reach her lungs. Suddenly he was hugging her tiglthy, whispering soothing words into her hair until her cries subsided.
This is it, he thought. No more gazing across the Great Hall searching for that unmanageable mane of hers, the same one he loved burying his nose in, inhaling her scent, or running his fingers through, letting the incredibly soft tendrils tickle his fingers and knuckles. No more stolen glances during Potions or passing touches in the library. No more whispered words between kisses or unspoken promises between entwined bodies.
He didn’t have a choice. Well, she was his choice. And if sacrificing his life to keep her safe was the only answer, then he would do whatever it took, even if that meant leaving her.
Shoutout to the Dramione shippers who never had anything to go on in the first place except a punch in the face and are still going hard years later
I had never seen such beauty come down the steps onto the banquet hall. Not long had I entered myself, noticing the beauty of every girl I glanced at as I walked down the steps. There were many beautiful women here tonight, dressed to impress and celebrate the new Minister of Magic, but no one compared to her. The way her smooth black fitted dress curved around her body like it was her own skin, the way her dark brown bushy hair was tamed into careless curls; her big brown eyes just swallowed you whole and made you want to look into them for eternity. She had a little black purse dangling on her dainty pale wrists.
She was beautiful.
I’d never hated myself so much, she was the image of perfection even after all the battles and the torment. She held herself like a queen and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to be her king.