Owlieboo
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The faint scratching sound of quill on parchment ceased immediately, replaced by a baleful snap as said quill broke unexpectedly in two – the delicate spine of the feather unable to withstand the sudden added pressure exerted from Draco's white knuckled grip.
Apparently the know-it-all swot had also enrolled in healer training at St Mungo’s after the war. And now she was here. In France. In his hospital. Waiting in the lobby. Part of the group of exchange healers he would be working with for the next year.
Fuck him.
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Living in France as a respected mediwizard, Draco has left his past far behind him and across the English Channel. Now... if only his past had stayed there– Apparently someone didn't get the memo.
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It was a pattern now. He'd stay away for as long as he could… until he couldn't. Once the Veela’s needs overpowered his reasoning, Malfoy would inevitably track her down, unable to contain the overwhelming urge to finally be near her.
That, or if another male behaved too friendly or got too close, and inadvertently set off the Veela's more possessive traits.
Today, it’s the latter.
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A drabble/ficlet featuring Veela Draco
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Hermione could feel his eyes on her.
Heated– Intense– Furious.
Slowly, with deliberate intent – skillfully masking the unwanted tingle of excitement his attention still invoked even after so long – she made her way towards the center of the crowd, putting as much distance between them as she could.
The back of her neck was burning as if licked by fire, the small hairs on her nape raised in brutal awareness of the raw emotions in which he openly regarded her.
The weight would be unsettling, suffocating, if she hadn't already been so practiced at ignoring it.
Ignoring him.
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Years after she was left bitterly alone, Hermione is faced with a past that refuses to leave her be.
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“Hermione Granger. I promise you, he is flirting with you.”
“And I'm positive, Ginny Weasley, that he's not.”
“Yes, he is.”
“No. He isn't.”
“And I swear to all that it is magical that he is.”
“And I'm telling you he isn't.”
“And I'm telling you he is.”
Hermione huffed frustratedly at Ginny’s stubbornness. “He's not,” she stated emphatically. “That's just how he normally acts.”
“Oh my god.” Ginny gasped at her in disbelief, her mouth agape over Hermione's naive dismissal. “You’re telling me he’s always been flirting with you?!”
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In need of a hard to find potion ingredient, Hermione luckily comes across a new apothecary that just might have what she needs. Now, if only someone could come actually help her when she rang for service....
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“Miss Granger. Mr Weasley. And Mr Malfoy.”
Hermione groaned. What kind of foul luck did she have that she just had to be grouped with a pair of Wizards that were – for the past three weeks – embroiled in some obnoxious, maddening pissing contest?
And somehow, she recently – through no actions of her own – had gotten stuck in the middle of it.
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This sixth year, Hermione's biggest concern is acing all her classes. She doesn't have time for Malfoy and Ron's annoying battle of the egos. But when a magical injury lands her in the infirmary, helped by the last person she'd expect, she suddenly realizes she has a solution to her problem.
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I Could Take This Moment Now (Right Into The Grave With Me) by blackorchids for avdubs
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
31 Dec 2015
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And, yeah, Harry and Ron and the rest of the Weasleys would always be a part of her, but that doesn't mean that there aren't new people she's closer with these days. It's not like she'd be fighting so hard for Draco Malfoy to get his wand back from the ministry if she still hated the man. You don't raise a generation of warriors and then expect them to forget how to go to battle.
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- 6,879
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Bookmarked by Owlieboo
15 Oct 2025
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“What did you say your name was?” he calls as she makes her escape. “I didn’t catch it.”
She looks him dead in the eye. “I didn’t.”
Hermione attends a masquerade at Malfoy Manor.
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Bookmarked by Owlieboo
12 Oct 2025
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Draco Malfoy has never been redeemed. He’s simply been patient.
Hermione Granger ruined his chances of being the top of their class, outshone him at every turn, and then—like the perfect, insufferable angel she was—saved his family from Azkaban. She was a Mudblood, and she was better than him. That contradiction marked him forever.
For the past seven years, he has played the long game. He became respectable in her eyes, carved out a role for himself at the DMLE, and slowly, carefully, made himself indispensable. He became her confidant, her best friend. He cultivated every part of their friendship—curated what she needed, what she liked, what she deserved.
Because Hermione is exceptional. She’s brilliant, sharp, devastatingly capable. And no one around her—not her fiancé, not her friends—ever made her feel like she was more than a burden to forgive or a standard to resent.
Draco doesn’t just see her. He feeds the pride she’s always been told to swallow. And he’ll do whatever it takes to bring her into the world where she belongs—his world.
Because she deserves better.
And she deserves him.
Series
- Part 1 of Exception to the Line Universe
- Language:
- English
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- 38,151
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- 11/11
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Bookmarked by Owlieboo
09 Oct 2025
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And that's the thing about illicit affairs
And clandestine meetings and stolen stares
They show their truth one single time
But they lie, and they lie, and they lie
A million little times
And you wanna scream
Don't call me "kid"
Don't call me "baby"
Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me
You showed me colors
You know I can't see with anyone else“I told you not to show up today,” he said in a low voice. With his free hand he brushed her hair over her shoulder. His hand moved slowly, leaving a tingling trail in its wake, from her arm all the way down to the hand that held her book in a vice grip. He gently loosened said grip and entwined their fingers.
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- 4,550
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Bookmarked by Owlieboo
08 Oct 2025
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When Hermione's stuck in boring Ministry meetings, she lets her mind wander. It's not like anyone can hear her thoughts, right?
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She watched as Malfoy's fingers wrapped around his fancy feathered quill, flexing with each stroke as he meticulously penned line after line of notes. His fingers were long and elegant, the kind her mum would’ve deemed “fingers made for playing the piano.”
But Hermione thought his fingers were made for far more exciting things.
Fingers nimble enough to easily undo the back buttons of her knee-length pinstripe dress. Fingers gentle enough to skate across her jaw, leaving a fiery path behind, fingers firm enough to find home in her unruly curls, to fist at the root and pull, just enough to feel just right.
Fingers made to be buried in a woman’s cunt.
She was jolted from her thoughts by the sharp crack of Malfoy’s snapping quill.
“Excuse me, so sorry,” he muttered as all eyes turned toward him.
Bookmarked by Owlieboo
08 Oct 2025