It required a strangely intimate level of trust, assuming Draco wouldn't willfully mistranslate her, that he accurately interpreted a conversational ebb and flow. If Hermione allowed herself the moment of indiscretion, she might have described it as a rush. A completely inappropriate rush, but a rush all the same.

Hermione's adult life has meant a lot of carrying on. A war ends? She carries on. Her relationship ends? She carries on. Her optimism about swift reform in the Ministry ends? She carries on. An entire Yule Ball mistakenly thinks she and Malfoy are having a grand relationship reveal mid-gala? She probably shouldn't carry on. Written for d/hr Advent 2021.

She'd learned, much as she wished she hadn't, that there was something compelling about him. That presence, that draw, that curiosity. It annoyed her as much as it fascinated her. And it was probably why she'd hadn't stopped him yet, hovering at her neck, breathing very, deadly slowly.

"So. Being in love with your best friend—who doesn't totally realize he's in love with you too—is not something I'd recommend. Let's start there."

"Hot in here, isn't it?" "There's a heat wave going on," Harry responded out of the side of his mouth while engaged in a halfhearted attempt at learning the exam schedule. "Mmhmm. Sure is. Sucks, that. Great for tequila though." A Muggle AU.

"Again," she breathes. It's barely a word, barely a whisper, barely a command. But it's one I'm happy to follow. She doesn't want to hear a stranger reciting Shakespeare's Sonnets. She wants verses—biting, passionate ones—and she wants them from me.

Draco steps closer. He offers her a single, appraising glance up and down. "You're Hermione Granger. I suspect you can do anything if you really want it done." "Stop almost-complimenting me, Malfoy." Written for d/hr Advent 2020

"Granger," he says from his shadow, calling to her when they've been left alone but for you and the other ghosts still lingering, a castle exceeding its phantom capacity. She turns, curls spinning wide around her, lids blinking rapidly as if she'd forgotten she was not alone. In a castle of ghosts, she will never be alone.

A Draco POV prequel to Wait and Hope.

A Muggle AU: two intellectual idiots fighting over a classroom.

The mint surprised him, so he said something. "Perfume?" he'd asked. Her cheeks colored as she leaned away. "Toothpaste," she'd said. "A Muggle habit."

"A hate parallelogram," Oliver says, slow over the long syllables, pronunciation sloshed by beer. Maybe this was actually his fifth drink? Hard to say. "Do you even know what a parallelogram is?" "Course I do," Marcus says. A pause. A gulp of beer. "It has four sides." "And I suspect they're parallel."

A companion story to Wait and Hope told from Pansy's POV. This story takes place directly after the events of Wait and Hope and Sight and Seeing. It isn't necessary to have read either story in order to enjoy Pansy's, but it certainly adds something having all the context!

A companion story to Wait and Hope told from Theo's POV! In this story we will see more of Nott Manor's haunted halls, Blaise's poor attempts at flirting, his even worse attempts at Seeing, Draco pining for his own wife, and Pansy generally being in favor of her friends getting laid. This story can be enjoyed with or without having read Wait and Hope!

"Harry," Hermione began, voice very controlled, but she could feel the blade of panic slicing at her vocal cords. "Why was Draco Malfoy just screaming bloody murder about his," and the word almost strangled her as she said it, "wife?"