Prompt: My Idea Of Fun

prompt: my idea of fun

“You never let loose, do you?” Granger drops onto the grass beside him, twisting her arm around his elbow. It’s such a Granger thing, physical touch. A shoulder squeeze upon arrival to class; a warm hug when approached from behind; the swift brush of her fingers in his damp hair in the misty weather.

“Let loose?” he repeats cynically. “Did you hear what that Gryffindor prat said to me?”

“You used to retaliate.” She leans against his arm, the bright scent of her shampoo wafting beneath his nose. “What happened to all those prank spells you used to know?”

“I used to be Draco Malfoy, but now I’m a Death Eater.”

“Former,” she reminds him. “And last I checked, you were still Draco Malfoy.”

“One of us could get away with school pranks. The other will face Azkaban at the slightest indiscretion.”

“Oh, I see.” She rises to her feet. “You’re afraid.”

Draco scoffs, a bolt of anger twisting his gut. “Easy for you to say.”

“True.” She searches the field, her gaze halting on something in the distance. “Was that him?”

He peeks over his shoulder, glimpsing the wanker who ruined Draco’s day. “Yeah.”

With only a spark of mischief in her eye as a warning, Granger points her wand in the boy’s direction and lets her magic run free. Seconds later, screams reach their ears. A pair of moth wings has sprouted from the boy’s shoulder blades and he’s skittering through the air, arms and legs flailing about in a panic.

Draco snorts. “Head Girl, huh?”

She shrugs. “I have an aversion to moths, didn’t you know?”

“Right, that Skeeter woman.” He remembers the jar in her hands on the train ride home in fourth year. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“What?” She sits down again, this time directly in front of him. “Put Skeeter in a jar?”

“Get back at him for me. I probably deserved it.”

“Probably,” she agrees. “But lucky for you, I find myself quite fond of our friendship.”

Draco’s irritation melts in the heat of her gaze. Fondness and friendship ring in his ears on repeat. He’s glad to fill the hole Potter and Weasley vacated this year. Friendship means everything to a girl without a family. But fondness makes his mind run wild, in directions Draco ‘Death Eater’ Malfoy’s thoughts never should go. The curve of her cheek, for instance, how soft it feels when she’s pressing her face against his arm. Or the surprisingly tight grip of her arms when she’s dragging him away from sulking to brew prohibited potions in the lavatories. Her idea of fun, and his too, if he’s honest with himself.

“What?” asks Granger, shooting him a curious look.

He’s staring.

Draco shrugs, only able to tell the truth: “You.”

A tinge of pink fills her cheeks. “What about me?”

“Just you. Everything about you.” He brushes his hand over dewy blades of grass, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest.

Granger’s mouth opens, shuts. For once, she’s at a loss for words.

“Don’t worry about it,” says Draco, hoping to avoid weirdness between them. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

She nods, lying down on her back to watch the clouds floating above them. They sit quietly for a while, long enough to hear the boy’s screams overshadowed by laughter, and then silence as a professor approaches the ruckus and dismantles the chaos of Granger’s sneaky magic.

“You know, former Draco would have done exactly this,” says Granger a while later, “hidden behind his cowardice.”

“Former Draco wouldn’t have cherished your friendship.”

Granger sits up on her elbows, staring at him through long dark lashes. “Nor would he have confessed his feelings for a Mudblood.”

The word rankles him. He hates it more than anything. “Is that what you want to hear? That I have feelings for you.”

“Only if you mean it.”

They’re on the precipice of something. It’s one of those moments in his life where things are one way today, but tomorrow everything could be different. He might learn what Granger’s mouth tastes like, or find out if the skin beneath her blouse is as soft as the back of her hand. But Former Draco wasn’t just a coward, he was selfish, taking without asking because he assumed everything already belonged to him.

He chooses his words carefully. “My feelings for you run deep, Granger, but I won’t ask for something I don’t deserve.”

“And if it’s what I want?”

“Then tell me,” he says. “I’ll give you anything that’s in my power to give.”

“You?” she asks, on her knees now in front of him.

Draco’s gaze flicks down to her mouth hovering inches from his own. “Is that what you want?”

“Will you give it to me?” A glimmer of mischief illuminates her eyes again. Gods, he loves that look. It takes him to unexpected places. Makes him laugh, stokes his ambition, persuades him to relish life again. And in this moment, it ignites every inch of him with fire.

With Granger, life is always a learning experience. Draco’s favourite lesson so far is the taste of her mouth—like summer warmth on an early spring day, salt in the drenches of mourning, sweetness in the tangle of school sheets, bliss every day he gets to call the girl without a family his own.

xx

More Posts from Driftingdoll and Others

2 years ago

What are you going to do about it?

"You do realize her birthday is less than a week away now, right?" Draco grit his teeth at Weasley's reminder and nodded. "I'm well aware." "So what are you going to do about it? She hasn't really let anyone celebrate it for the past few years and I think it's time." Ron refused to let the matter go, and Draco couldn't really blame him. Hermione had spent the handful of years following the war like most of them--picking up the scattered pieces of her life. She threw herself into finishing her N.E.W.T.s, then into her apprenticeship, and continued to work herself to exhaustion at her curse breaking job. While she still made time for friends, she afforded almost none for herself, ignoring vacation days and her birthday repeatedly claiming she "had more important things to do." "I'm actually visiting the family vault tomorrow afternoon." Ron Weasley immediately knew what he meant and sat up straight from his slouch, leveling his gaze on Draco. "You'll let me know if you need help with anything?" The man scoffed in response before pausing in thought. "Actually..." "What?" "Pansy showed me some photos that are apparently super popular with muggles or something--proposal pics?" Ron tilted his head in confusion. "I guess you get someone to hide and take pictures of the thing, you know, for the memories." A blush crept up Draco's neck and he looked away. "...are you asking me to be your proposal photographer, Malfoy?" Ron's grin grew as he leaned forward in excitement. Draco coughed and shuffled his feet in a distinctly un-Malfoy manner. "I suppose I am. Maybe Potter can help figure out how it all works and help you." His eyes jerked up to meet Ron's when the redhead punched him in the arm. "Ow! What was that for?" "I had something else in mind for her birthday, but this is 10x better! Who would've thought? Draco Malfoy is a sappy romantic."

2 years ago
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2 years ago

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2 years ago
If The Sun Should Tumble From The Skies     If The Sea Should Suddenly Run Dry         If You Love
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10 years ago

My favorite thing about this video is watching Liam dance! LOL

One Direction - ‘Steal My Girl’ Wetten Dass


Tags
2 years ago

#dramione ficlet #draco x hermione #draco malfoy #hermione granger

As her charity event draws to a close, Hermione is tired, but pleased. 

The crowd is larger than she’d dared to hope for, and heavily engaged, friends and admirers cheering and whistling with each new announcement. The night has gone smoothly, no hitches or scandals. And with one bachelor left, the rest should be easy.

She smiles to herself from where she stands just off-stage as the inevitable crowd favorite is announced.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our final lot for tonight...Draco Malfoy!”

He walks onstage with faltering steps, handsome as ever but lacking his usual cock-sure attitude. The man is nervous.

She feels a flash of something. Is it…pity?

They’d come up with a strategy for tonight, and it’d gone almost exactly according to plan.

Almost.

Ginny had won Blaise easily, avoiding any need to share her boyfriend. 

Theo had (dramatically) over-bid on Harry, happy to publicly embarrass his husband for a good cause. Plus, he knew the large sum would be good publicity for his firm.

But then Pansy, meant to protect Draco from misguided witches with delusions of betrothal contracts, had gotten…distracted.

Viktor Krum offering to participate had been a boon for Hermione’s Charity Bachelor Auction. The addition of such a high-profile celebrity brought in significant interest and advanced press coverage, and Hermione had known Viktor would be a good sport about the whole thing. It had been an easy decision with no foreseeable downside.

Until a glassy-eyed Pansy Parkinson had used all the galleons she’d brought to bid on Malfoy to secure a date with the international Quidditch star, leaving the tall, sought-after blonde on stage looking vulnerable and unsure. 

Hermione offers him an encouraging smile. 

He grimaces in return.

It’ll be fine, though. Right?

It has to be.

Her event can’t be the thing that forces him back into marriage dates after years of successful avoidance. Narcissa would be over the moon, of course. But Hermione would feel terrible.

She breathes a sigh of relief when Padma, a mutual friend with a known preference for witches, bids. A platonic date would solve all of their problems.

Her relief is short-lived.

The crowd parts to reveal a determined-looking Astoria Greengrass raising a paddle in response.

Malfoy’s panicked eyes find Hermione’s.

Please, he mouths. Desperate.

Her heart aches for him.

He’s a good friend, has been since eighth year.

He’s also a great backup date for functions, far more attentive than any of her exes. He has impeccable manners, grabbing her drinks and anticipating her needs before she has a chance to ask for anything. And he’s particularly great at subverting awkward conversations.

He’s gone to dozens of stuffy affairs, and he’s never asked for anything in return. 

Until now.

Ron, who’d volunteered to MC when Lav refused to let him participate as a bachelor, calls for final bids.

Hermione sighs.

It’s not smart. Instead of the cause, this will be the story in tomorrow’s Prophet. 

But he’s begging her with those sad, puppy-dog eyes.

Resigned, she steps onto the stage and raises her paddle.

A hush falls over the auditorium, a sudden blanket of near-silence. 

Through the quiet, someone in the crowd actually gasps. Which is ridiculous; their friendship has been well-documented. Hermione suppresses the urge to roll her eyes.

Astoria keeps bidding, and so does Hermione. In minutes they’ve promised more than the event had previously earned twice over.

Hermione is going to murder Pansy.

When they hit a landmark sum, Astoria finally backs off, and Hermione is pronounced the winner to a tittering crowd.

She walks on stage, giving Malfoy a perfunctory embrace.

“You’re paying me back,” she whispers.

He returns it, gripping tightly, wrapping her in a warm embrace. A warm, friendly embrace. “Every knut,” he agrees, his voice a low growl. Not gratitude, but something else.

A shiver travels up her spine. Which is silly, of course. This is Draco Malfoy. Her friend.

“We don’t have to go on the date,” she says as they’re engulfed by the din of the applauding crowd. “I know the organizer, she’ll let it slide.” See? It’s funny. One big joke, nothing more.

“Granger.” It sounds like a warning, but he won’t let her pull back. “I’m taking you on the best date of your life.”

He kisses her then, swallowing her confusion, and it’s even better than she remembers.

Before they were friends, there’d been that one kiss that one night that neither of them had talked about after.

The one she thinks of sometimes after a bad day, or a bad date, or a particularly long dry spell.

Blood pounds in her ears as the crowd responds enthusiastically to the new development. Hermione looks around wildly–at Ron, in the announcer’s stand. Out at the crowd. Anywhere but Draco’s intense eyes, trained on her.

From the back of the room, Pansy gives her the kind of encouraging glare only she is capable of.

In fact, all of their friends are watching them, rather expectantly.

She finally meets his gaze, and finds him grinning. “I don’t understand.”

“Parks’s been hot for Krum for ages. She begged me to let her out of our deal,” he says, with a carefully practiced shrug. “Seemed like a good time to try something I’ve wanted for ages, too.”

“...And you just left it up to chance?” she asks, suspiciously.

“Of course not,” he scoffs, leading her from the spotlight as though she’d already agreed to the date. “Who do you think talked Astoria into bidding?”

A Malfoy always gets what he wants.

1 year ago

buying books & reading books..two different hobbies.

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driftingdoll - look alive, sunshine
look alive, sunshine

I'll tell you all how the story ends, where the good guys die and the bad guys win It ain't about all the friends you made, but the graffiti they write on your grave

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