OOC:
Hi! I’m super sorry I haven’t been able to get on and reply to stuff–Christmas season is here, and it’s been reaaaally busy on my end! So I think I’m going to go on a bit of a break–not a lot one, just until next week when things slow down a bit! I love you allllll, and I’ll see you then! c:
OOC:
HELLO LOVELY ONES. I’m sorry I’ve been a bit absent, but life has been hectic! I’ll be on tomorrow after I finish volunteering to reply to stuff, so please like this if I owe you!
Fred & Hermione || Loss
just-gred-and-forge:
It shouldn’t have been like this. Really, nothing should have been this way. Fred had always decided that in everything they did, he was meant to go first. He’d been born a minute before George, and ever since he’d always insisted that it was meant to stay that way. That meant in death.
So, why had he been the one left alone? It wasn’t fair.
The last time that Fred had seen or spoken with anyone was at George’s funeral, which he’d sobbed heavily the entire way through. Immediately after the service had ended, he’d disappeared from sight entirely. Efforts had been made at trying to contact him; letters had arrived at his doorstop and occasionally knocks could be heard at the front door, but never once did Fred respond. The thought of speaking with anyone, people unintentionally mistaking him for his identical twin brother, it wasn’t something that he could handle. Even hearing his name… it hurt so badly.
And so Fred had destroyed every reminder of the person he’d always cared about the most. He’d closed the shop, deeming himself unable to run it any longer on his own. Every sweater had been burned and every mirror broken - he couldn’t bare the sight of George’s face being reflected back at him each and every day. How could he stare at the face of someone he’d never be able to speak with again?
He couldn’t do it anymore. Even breathing had become a challenge for him… George had once been breathing just as he had after all. So, why should he get to do something that had been taken from his brother?
Fred was sprawled out on his bed, his arms and legs splayed out haphazardly on the bare mattress. He hadn’t moved for hours, his eyes unfocused as the gazed mournfully at the ceiling above… until, that is, he heard his name being called in a softly-spoken voice at the front door. Fred’s head turned slightly as he waited for the voice to repeat itself, which it did. “… go away. There’s no one here.”
Hermione waited patiently for what she hoped would be the sound of approaching footsteps or anything that would give way to Fred opening the door for her, and she was dismayed when she was greeted with only solemn silence. She didn’t know what to expect on the other side of the door, but she knew that it wouldn’t be at all pleasant–Fred had lost the brother who had quite literally been by his side his entire life, and Hermione could easily compare his loss to that of a limb or something else entirely invaluable. George was a part of Fred that he would never get back, and Hermione’s heart ached on his behalf. She was just…she was just so worried. No one had heard from the remaining Weasley twin in months; not even his parents, and Hermione couldn’t stand not knowing that he was suffering in solitude.
Her eyes widened as she finally heard the sound of Fred’s voice–rusty with disuse and shrouded in sadness, but his nevertheless–resisting the urge to break down his door at his insistence that “no one was there”.
“Fred!” She called, rapping her fist against the door once more. “I’m not an idiot, you know–I can hear you!” She bit her lip as she deliberated her next choice of action, knowing that if he didn’t let her in, she would have no choice but to find…other means of gaining entry.
“Fred, please, just–just let me in.” She pleaded with the unforgiving surface of the door keeping her from the lost and desolate form of Fred Weasley. “I just want to talk to you! For goodness’ sake, I–let me in right now, or I swear to Merlin, I will knock down your door!
Fred & Hermione || Loss
It had been nearly six months since the cumulation of the War, and yet the effects still lingered. Not a day went by without the reminder of all that had been lost and sacrificed in the final battle, and Hermione knew that for some, the lingering effects would never fade with time, no matter how badly they willed them away. Fred Weasley, especially, had been dealt a cruel and horrible loss, and there was no doubt in Hermione’s mind that the death of his identical twin was replayed over and over again in his head with each day that went by without him.
She couldn’t even begin to imagine how he must feel–George had been the most important thing in the world to Fred, and she didn’t doubt that each day spent without him was a painful one. She hadn’t heard from Fred in months–no one had–and Hermione was growing more and more worried on his behalf. Because while she and Fred had never been particularly close, she had always cared for him, and now was no exception.
Now, making her way down the street towards the flat he inhabited on his own, Hermione was determined to help the grieving twin as best as she could. Having arrived at the doorstep of his home, she could only hope that he didn’t send her away–finding the back entrance and breaking into his home would prove to be a great deal more difficult than it was worth. With that thought in mind, she took a deep breath and rapped her fist upon the door; once, twice, three times as she awaited his response.
“…Fred?” She called, after a moment of brief hesitation. “It’s Hermione–are you home?"
Dramione || Secrecy [Situation #2]
dracospride:
Though Draco was hardly a virgin, he had to admit that he had never really…experienced a need as extravagant as the one he now held for the Witch pressed between him and the wall. His core had ignited with a fierce sort of need, and a low moan escaped the pale blonde’s lips as he felt Hermione thrust her breasts into his hands. His fingertips were practically bloody quivering with need as he fondled and pleased her, continuing to ravish her neck with everything in him and rubbing his clothed cock against her thigh in the hope to achieve some sort of stimulation. So wrapped up in the throes of passion, and the heavy pounding of his heart and the rhythm of his pulse filling his ears, he almost missed Hermione’s breathless demand for him to…to shut the door, and set a Silencing Charm and…oh. Merlin.
So this was really happening then, wasn’t it?
Forcing himself to pull away from the soft and tender skin of her exposed neck, his silver eyes met her hazel ones, and Draco gave the stiffest jerk of a nod in response to her demand. He licked his kiss-swollen lips, stumbling away from her slightly and moving to search for his wand. It was stuffed deep into his back pocket, and grumbling under his breath, he reached back and pulled the instrument out, pointing it at the door and mumbling a quick locking charm under his breath, followed by a Silencing Charm that would be sure to hold and block out any possible sounds of their…clandestine affair with one another. Everything was messier now; everything was fucked up, what with her relationship with Weasley and her emotions to him. At some point, they’d have to figure everything out. They’d have to plan and talk things out. But that wasn’t what this moment was about—right now, it was about him and her, and the passion they shared for one another.
Nothing else.
Looking back towards her and inhaling a shuddering gust of breath, Draco surged forward, slamming his body against hers once more and kissing her heatedly. In a bold movement, the former Slytherin allowed his fingers to graze down the creamy flesh of her torso, down to grip her skirt, looping the material under his slender fingers. With a jerking movement, he tugged the article of clothing down and off her form, bringing her knickers along with them.
“Off,” He breathed roughly against her lips, gesturing for her to kick her skirt and soiled knickers to the side. Pressing his mouth more harshly against his own and parting his lips to allow his tongue to slide between the soft plush of her own lips, he wasted no time in snaking his hand down the length of his body, pausing only briefly before allowing his fingers to skirt over her cunt. Tugging roughly on her bottom lip with his teeth, he cupped her heated mound in his hand, his fingers brushing against the soaked lips of her pussy, pressing his thumb against the top of her cunt firmly and rubbing in a slow and circular motion.
Hermione watched, breathless and flushed as Draco reluctantly drew away from her in order to cast the necessary charms and enchantments to ensure that no one would catch wind of the passionate tryst they were about to engage in. She was suddenly very, very aware of what was about to take place–that she and Draco Malfoy were on the verge of succumbing to the emotions they harboured for one another in a fierce and fervent display of physical intimacy. There would be no going back after this; there would be no pretending that it hadn’t happened, and Hermione was struck with the rather startling realization that she didn't want to go back. She didn’t want to go back to the days of fighting the feelings that had slowly but surely began to fester inside of her for her former Slytherin of a partner in hopes that they would eventually go away–no, she wanted to hold tight and embrace them with all that she had, consequences be damned.
It was a thousand shades of wrong and utterly screwed up, but Hermione couldn’t seem to bring herself to stop. She didn't want to bring herself to stop. Draco Malfoy was a toiling sea of fervour and passion, and Hermione was more than willing to allow herself to be swept beneath the current.
Having performed the necessary charms, Draco didn’t give her a moment before he was slamming her against the wall once more, and she gasped as he pinned her in place with his body. It had never been like this with Ron–she had never felt so desired and lusted after in her life, and for once she didn’t mind feeling like the smaller and more feminine of the sexes–there was something to be said for allowing herself to feel vulnerable and exposed in the presence of the man who had captivated her more than anyone else ever had, and Hermione found herself once again focusing on the fact that she would never be able to forget this; she would never be able to forget him.
She gasped once more as she felt him tug at the hem of her skirt and knickers with nimble fingers, unable to find any desire to protest as he urged her to step out of them. She did so quickly, the rough quality to his husky voice urging her to kick them aside with haste. Her cunt was slick with her desire, and she whimpered against his kiss-reddened lips as she felt the skilled tips of his fingers drag over her heated flesh. A startled moan was lost against his mouth as his tongue slid against hers, and her hips rose instinctively as he cupped the entirety of her dripping pussy in the warm heat of his hand.
“Draco," His name left her in a harsh rush of air, quickly followed with a loud cry of pleasure as the pad of his thumb spun slow circles against her swollen and slick pussy, catching her aching clit with each skilled stroke. Her hips canted as her need for stimulation grew, and her lips grew sloppy against his as she struggled to focus on anything aside from the way his hand felt rubbing against her sensitive cunt. "I–more, please, I want–I want you, Draco, please."
Draco & Hermione || The Aftermath
dracothesly:
“I…” Draco started to say as Hermione turned to face him. “…I enjoyed it too,” he admitted and looked down to their touching knees and back up, his gaze lingering on her full lips before lifting back to her eyes. “You’re too observant for your own good,” he said.
Swallowing, he then asked something that he didn’t know if he would regret or not. “What would you do if I told you I’ll stop protesting?”
Hermione could feel the heat of Draco’s grey gaze as it settled over her, and she felt her cheeks warm in response. Their knees just barely touched, and it was the most contact they had had with one another since their encounter in the abandoned classroom. He seemed far more vulnerable than he had before now, and Hermione could feel the tension between them shift with his words.
“I…” She began, suddenly breathless as she involuntarily shifted just a bit closer to him–just enough so that their knees pressed directly against each other’s. “…I might kiss you, I think."
Draco & Hermione || The Aftermath
dracothesly:
Draco’s mouth was salivating as he ate his sandwich, after it almost being a full day of not eating, anything was nice at that minute. He set it back down on the dish, wiped his mouth and then looked up. “And that’s the thing,” he frowned. “You’re too confident that you don’t need protection! A few near misses in school is nothing compared to what you would get yourself into if you get closer to me.”
He clenched his fist and started hitting it softly on the table. “You really are impossible, Granger, you know that?” He said, laughing even though it wasn’t funny, and looking into her eyes.
Hermione only grew more and more concerned–and persistent–as Draco continued to insist that she required protection, or something of the like. She was pleased to note that he was finally meeting her gaze, however, and there was something far too enticing about the deep silver of his eyes as they bored into her own.
“I’ve already been close to you,” She informed him in a referral to what had happened between them nearly two weeks ago, and her voice was soft as she slowly turned to face him fully, her knees just brushing against him. “And nothing bad happened. In fact, I…I rather enjoyed being close to you, and I’m fairly certain that you did, as well. So just–so just stop telling me that I’m impossible, and just–just accept the fact that I don’t plan on going away any time soon! And…and…accept the fact that you don't want me to go away, as much as you’ve protested otherwise!”
Blurred Lines || acciogranger & urawizardharry
ur-awizard-harry:
Harry froze, his arms wide, his eyes big, and his mouth… warm.
Merlin, Hermione was kissing him!
It took him a few seconds to register the reality of such a long desired wish come true. He made a soft, masculine sound of pleased surprise as he finally accepted this as his most wonderful reality. As his arms moved to wrap around her, his lids slowly shut behind his pesky glasses.
His specs had gone slightly askew at Hermione’s kiss, Harry realized belatedly. He smiled against her mouth at the thought.
They were kissing!
Harry couldn’t stop his mind from continually tripping over this fact and the other hope that his glasses wouldn’t fall off.
His hands started to move on their own accord, stroking her back, tangling in her hair, in an effort to prove to himself that he indeed had her in his arms at last.
Hermione could feel the shock that rippled through Harry as he tensed against her, and she wondered if he would pull away; if she had somehow misinterpreted his earlier words for something else. But then….but then his arms, warm and lightly toned from years of Quidditch, were wrapping themselves around her petite frame, and the soft sound that escaped him was undeniably one of approval. She felt his smile against her lips, and she couldn’t help but chase it with one of her own–Merlin, why on earth did this feel so right?
“Harry,” she murmured breathlessly between kisses, a startled gasp of pleasure escaping her as she felt his hands rove up and down her figure. She fisted her hands in the soft cotton of his shirt, inadvertently tugging him flush against her and giving a soft moan of acknowledgement as their bodies melded together seamlessly. “Harry, I just–I want–"
Whatever she had been planning on saying was instantly forgotten as he continued to kiss her, and her lips turned heated and fervent against his own. In an experimental gesture meant to deeper their kiss, she boldly allowed her tongue to flicker out and slide across the crease of his lips in a silent plea for entry.
Draco & Hermione || Draco’s Flat
yesthisisdraco:
A slow small smile pulled at Draco’s lips as he watched her face once again after their kiss was broken. She held a certain glow that could mesmerize him for much longer than he’d like to admit and he could almost see the cogs in her brain slowing down from their most recent, albeit small, interaction.
One hand sensually slid up her back along her spine as she spoke, his smile growing wider and more roguish than innocent. He could feel the swell of her breasts against his chest as she took in her breaths of air between spoken words. Though encased in her blouse, the softness of her breasts were still felt through the thin material and a growing need inside of him was tempted to rip off the flimsy article of clothing, to expose the rewards within. But no, not quite yet. He could wait a little longer.
Some of the times, Draco enjoyed letting the aching tension build. Slowly. Tenderly. Deliciously. The preceding touches and kisses were a promise to a much sweeter pleasure, a pleasure that Draco delighted in. Plus, he enjoyed flustering the small witch. He enjoyed causing her cheeks to blossom with heat, to make her moan in anticipation, wet in want, even before any offending piece of clothing was taken off.
With each of Hermione’s stuttering words and fluttery breaths, Draco knew that perhaps, tonight would be one of those nights. He couldn’t help but gravitate his eyes to her rosy lips, her words more blurred than clear as his heart beat in his chest, the contact between them causing an increasing discomfort below. Soon enough, he saw those very lips moving closer to his own, his lids heavy, till another passionate kiss bloomed between them.
The hand on her back, quickly slid up to the nape of her neck to hold their lips locked together. He leaned his head back just the slightest, just enough to allow his tongue to slide across her lips lightly, affectionately, teasingly, before he moved his face closer to slip his tongue into her mouth, exploring her once again as if it was the first time.
The sheer amount of patience that her former Slytherin of a boyfriend harboured was nearly impossible for Hermione to fathom. There had been many long and heated nights they had spent together where he had teased her for hours on end before finally allowing her reach completion, and he knew better than anyone how to have her completely unravelled within a moment’s time. It was as infuriating as it was…well, exciting was putting it lightly. He was a skilled and attentive lover, and Hermione highly doubted that anyone would ever learn her body and its reactions as well as he had.
She was already on the precipice of arousal, yet the slow and sensual smile that was spreading across his lips let her know that he had no intentions of fulfilling her desire quite yet, and she wondered just how long she would have to wait until his carefully honed control snapped. The heat of his body against her own was far too enticing for her to ignore, and a keening sound of pleasure escaped her as she felt his hand cup the nape of her neck, angling them towards one another and allowing him to take control of the kiss.
Her lips parted on a gasp as she felt the tip of his tongue gradually begin its descent within the warm and wet cavern of her mouth, and her fingers curled into the soft cotton of his shirt as her body rocked against his. She–she wanted him. Oh, Merlin, did she want him. Her tongue found his and swirled around it, and her hands trailed down the length of his body to slip beneath them hem of his shirt and trace patterns into the toned expanse of his abdomen.
Theoretically || acciogranger & dracotheslytherinprince
draco-the-slytherin-prince:
“Ah, I see, you’re looking to see me fail,” he observed. “And that is rather irritating, but as you can see I’m fairly unbothered.” Draco sent her a strained smile. “You do realize, Granger, that by placing a wager, I’ll be seeing to winning it. After all, I’m far better at taking those sorts of gambles than you are.”
A conniving smile snaked onto his lips. “I’ll be thinking of the sweet you’ll be purchasing for me in say, three weeks time?”
Hermione appraised Malfoy’s strained smile and resisted the urge to snort. He wouldn’t last a week! Her sense of Gryffindor competitiveness had been piqued, and there was no way she was going to let him win the challenge she had issued between them–not even if her life depended on it!
“You have absolutely no clue as to whether or not you’re better at taking these sort of gambles than I am, Malfoy.” She sniffed haughtily. “So I would highly suggest that you refrain from bragging before you’ve even come close to winning! And I won’t be purchasing you anything, thank you very much–you, however, will be treating me to a plethora of sweets that I might be tempted to share with you if you ask nicely enough."
