Curate, connect, and discover
Ok so i have mostly finished the long WIP I've been working on for nearly three years. In fact, I'm most of the way through editing the whole thing (all 240k) with only two short scenes left to write. So happy to finally be here! Here's a quick snip of a Hermione POV scene where Draco is helping Harry snd Hermione to escape and she needs to injure him so he looks as though he fought them... it makes sense in-universe i swear.
Draco was still too close to Harry, but Hermione went over to him anyway, arranged him carefully in the dim light so she could be sure that she wouldn’t cause any permanent damage.
“Hold still,” she instructed him, and raised her wand hand. Draco flinched, then flushed.
“Sorry,” he said. “I know I’m not very brave about this sort of thing. I don’t like being at the wrong end of anyone’s wand. Anyway, go on. I’m ready now.”
“Here, let me,” Harry offered, and pushed past Hermione gently. Draco didn’t flinch when Harry lifted his wand, she noticed with irritation, just shook his hair back and smiled brightly.
“Hello again,” he said to Harry cheerfully, and Harry rolled his eyes fondly and cast with ruthless precision, a vicious Diffindo that tore right through the stupid gauzy shirt Draco was wearing, and opened him up, shallow but nasty-looking, across the meatiest part of his chest, far from any dangerous areas, and then hit him with a quick Incutio that was going to give him a whopper of a shiner. Even weak like this, Harry was terrifying.
“Fucking… ow!” Draco rubbed at his cheekbone resentfully. “Warn a fellow, next time.”
And then from outside they heard the distant rattle of gravel, some angry-sounding voices, and it was all horribly real again. Hermione doused the Lumos instantly, blinking into the blackness, suddenly and newly furious with Harry and his stupid infatuation.
Even now they were whispering to each other, and as her eyes adjusted she could see that Draco had Harry’s face between his hands, and Harry was kissing him, first Draco's mouth and then the palm of each hand, like there was nothing more important in the world.