Summary:Â Draco and Hermione have been easy roommates - that is, until Draco finds a list of her deepest desires.
OR
Draco finds Hermione's list of sex kinks and he makes her read them to him one by one...
Warnings: Smut/Dom Draco/Only Smut/Like Really, There Is No Plot
Excerpt:
Draco stared at the absolute gold in his hands. If it were to have a monetary value, heâd have guessed it would equate to all of the Galleons sitting in Gringotts.
One might think - Draco, did you just find a rare jewel? An archeological treasure, perhaps?
It was something better, in fact.
In his hands was a paper, authored by Hermione Granger, given the single best title in the history of British literature: Wish List.
Heâd just found a written confession of Grangerâs deepest sexual desires.
Granger. His celibate roommate, who had yet to bring another man over to their flat since sheâd moved in two years ago.
But Draco didnât have long to peruse her list before he felt a soft female body collide with his with such force, it knocked him onto his back. He saved himself by his elbow, which kept him propped enough to extend his hand out and keep his precious find out of her hands.
âNo, no, no.â Granger was practically moaning in desperation as she squirmed over his body to fetch back her secrets.
She was gaining leverage as she slid up his body, and Draco needed to think fast. Still holding his treasure high above his head, he wrapped the other around Grangerâs waist and lifted himself so that he could flip them around, pinning her to the ground beneath him.
Chest heaving, and understandably at a loss, Granger quickly gave in, collapsing onto her back.
Draco was silent for a moment, almost giddy with his newfound proof that his prim and proper roommate was actually a bit of a.. minx.
âSo,â he began, grinning in his victory.
âI donât want to talk about it,â Hermione cut in. She didnât move from her spot beneath him.
âOh, but such a find as this is just begging to be discussed.â
Hermione brought her hands up to hide her face and gave a shake of her head.
âCare to explain what it is Iâm looking at?â he asked, shaking the plastic paper in his hand.
She brought her hands down abruptly to reveal a furrowed brow and narrowed eyes. âDonât act as if youâre simply curious, Malfoy. I know you better than to think that you donât plan to hold this against me.â
âI have no idea what youâre on about, Granger. Iâm just checking in on your - sexual wellbeing, is all. Itâs what we roommates do for each other.â
Her hands flew back to her face. âThat isnât true. I could care less about your sexual wellbeing,â she said.
âWe all have a wish list, Granger.â He shifted his body so that he sat across from her. Granger remained lying down. âGranted, most of us keep our list within the confines of our thoughts so as to avoid such situations -â
âI write everything down,â Granger said defiantly. âYou know the saying - âPaper is to write things down that we need to remember. Our brains are used to think.ââ
âWho said that?â
âEinstein.â
âThe muggle with the hair?â
âThe very one.â
âAh. Well, Einstein clearly never had a list of sex kinks, now, did he?â
Draco dodged the notebook she just tossed at his head.
Summary: Draco Malfoy hates Christmas. So when his boss asked him to head a project over the holidays, he was more than happy to oblige.
Hermione Granger loves Christmas. But she really needs that promotion, so when her boss asks her to tag along, she accepts the job.Â
Coworkers with a questionable history snowed in at an Inn over Christmas.
Will he fall in love with Christmas? Will she fall in love with him?
Part 2 coming tomorrow. Happy Holidays!
Excerpt:Â
In the driverâs seat, looking infinitely more comfortable now that she was degloved and descarfed, Hermione was toying with the radio. It was clear she was searching for something specific - she had already passed several stations playing variations of the same nonsensical music.
She kept turning one of the many switches that did Merlin-knows-what until she found a dreadfully cheery tune sung by a child - Draco listened to the words carefully - whose adulterous mother apparently got caught kissing a man named.. Santa Claus.
Draco tried to bear it, he truly did, but he lasted only a few rounds of the overly repetitive chords and the ridiculous lyrics before heâd had enough.
He reached for the same knob sheâd used and turned the sound off.
Her head whipped around so fast, he was surprised she hadnât injured herself. She kept glancing back and forth between the road and her passenger, her brows furrowed in annoyance. Understanding her wordless furry was because of him, Draco explained -
âI donât do Christmas carols.â
She turned the sound back on.
âItâs December 23rd, itâs snowing outside, and you donât do Christmas carols? Of all times to do Christmas carols, itâs right now!â
âLook, Iâm studying my notes for our assignment, okay? And I canât do that with some Muggle woman singing in my ear about who she is snogging at Christmas.â
He turned the sound off once more.
âBahumbug,â Hermione mumbled under her breath.
Summary: Draco Malfoy hates Christmas. So when his boss asked him to head a project over the holidays, he was more than happy to oblige.
Hermione Granger loves Christmas. But she really needs that promotion, so when her boss asks her to tag along, she accepts the job.Â
Coworkers with a questionable history snowed in at an Inn over Christmas.
Will he fall in love with Christmas? Will she fall in love with him?
Part 2 coming tomorrow. Happy Holidays!
Excerpt:Â
In the driverâs seat, looking infinitely more comfortable now that she was degloved and descarfed, Hermione was toying with the radio. It was clear she was searching for something specific - she had already passed several stations playing variations of the same nonsensical music.
She kept turning one of the many switches that did Merlin-knows-what until she found a dreadfully cheery tune sung by a child - Draco listened to the words carefully - whose adulterous mother apparently got caught kissing a man named.. Santa Claus.
Draco tried to bear it, he truly did, but he lasted only a few rounds of the overly repetitive chords and the ridiculous lyrics before heâd had enough.
He reached for the same knob sheâd used and turned the sound off.
Her head whipped around so fast, he was surprised she hadnât injured herself. She kept glancing back and forth between the road and her passenger, her brows furrowed in annoyance. Understanding her wordless furry was because of him, Draco explained -
âI donât do Christmas carols.â
She turned the sound back on.
âItâs December 23rd, itâs snowing outside, and you donât do Christmas carols? Of all times to do Christmas carols, itâs right now!â
âLook, Iâm studying my notes for our assignment, okay? And I canât do that with some Muggle woman singing in my ear about who she is snogging at Christmas.â
He turned the sound off once more.
âBahumbug,â Hermione mumbled under her breath.
One of the first short fics I wrote for Dramione has been translated into Russian! đ„Č
If Russian is your first language (or you just really want to challenge yourself) then please check out @morskayan translation of this silly little Christmas fic hereâ€ïžđâ€ïžđ
The first kiss of Draco and Hermione on the beach during a thunderstorm, commission art for Russian-language fanfic ("ĐŃĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ŃŃ" by ĐĐŸĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ° бДз ŃĐ°Ń Đ°ŃĐ°)
Summary: Draco Malfoy hates Christmas. So when his boss asked him to head a project over the holidays, he was more than happy to oblige.
Hermione Granger loves Christmas. But she really needs that promotion, so when her boss asks her to tag along, she accepts the job.Â
Coworkers with a questionable history snowed in at an Inn over Christmas.
Will he fall in love with Christmas? Will she fall in love with him?
Part 2 coming tomorrow. Happy Holidays!
Excerpt:Â
In the driverâs seat, looking infinitely more comfortable now that she was degloved and descarfed, Hermione was toying with the radio. It was clear she was searching for something specific - she had already passed several stations playing variations of the same nonsensical music.
She kept turning one of the many switches that did Merlin-knows-what until she found a dreadfully cheery tune sung by a child - Draco listened to the words carefully - whose adulterous mother apparently got caught kissing a man named.. Santa Claus.
Draco tried to bear it, he truly did, but he lasted only a few rounds of the overly repetitive chords and the ridiculous lyrics before heâd had enough.
He reached for the same knob sheâd used and turned the sound off.
Her head whipped around so fast, he was surprised she hadnât injured herself. She kept glancing back and forth between the road and her passenger, her brows furrowed in annoyance. Understanding her wordless furry was because of him, Draco explained -
âI donât do Christmas carols.â
She turned the sound back on.
âItâs December 23rd, itâs snowing outside, and you donât do Christmas carols? Of all times to do Christmas carols, itâs right now!â
âLook, Iâm studying my notes for our assignment, okay? And I canât do that with some Muggle woman singing in my ear about who she is snogging at Christmas.â
He turned the sound off once more.
âBahumbug,â Hermione mumbled under her breath.
Sometimes writing is like having an enormous lake in your head, and you want to get it out of your head and into a proper place for a lake so other people can come and go swimming and ride jet skis and stuff, except all you have to move the lake is a teaspoon. So youâre just sitting there frantically flinging water out of the lake with your teaspoon and telling people, âGuys, this lake is going to be so cool when itâs done,â but it will never be done. There is so much lake.
Reposting to say this ficlet has been translated into Russian thanks to @dashawry! Check out some of her other translations in the link below:
Read in { English } { Russian }
Word Count: 2,400+
TW: dark themes/signs of abuse/unwilling confinement - AU Voldy Wins (ACOTAR inspired)
âWhat a⊠precarious situation youâve found yourself in, Granger.â
Hermioneâs head snapped toward the strangerâs voice and watched in disbelief as Draco Malfoy strolled into her dungeon, toying with a set of keys in his hands. She caught glimpses of his face as he passed the dimly lit candles that hung in intervals against the wall. His blonde hair, almost white in its hue, was groomed and neat, his suit so immaculate it looked wrong within the filth of this prison, so black that he resembled a shadow more than a man. He wore an expression that Hermione couldnât quite place.
She looked around for the guards, who were meant to be watching her, but they were gone from their usual post. Now that she thought about it, itâd been a while since sheâd heard the stomp of their boots on the stone floor.
It didnât take Draco long before he reached the bars of her cell. He peered down at where Hermione sat on the floor, her shackles clinging miserably at her sides.
She tried to remember how long sheâd been held captive - at first, sheâd been counting her days locked down here, but sheâd lost interest after the tenth day. That mustâve been at least three days ago she stopped etching marks into the wall.
She was suddenly very aware of how she must look to him. Dirt and grime was visible on every inch of her exposed skin. The clothes theyâd given her - made of a rough material and hardly covered her modestly - were also caked in dirt.
She tried not to let him see her weakness. She sat up straighter, using the wall to keep her from slumping over. She knew her face must be gaunt from her hunger, but her meals, which appeared magically twice a day, were table scraps at best and did little to stave her appetite. She became stoic as Malfoy looked down at her. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her desperation.
âWhat do you want,â she nearly spat at him. Hatred coursed through her at the sight of him so close.
He clicked his tongue at her. âNow, now. Thatâs no way to speak to your rescuer.â
Her ârescuerâ was a war criminal - a sympathizer to a powerful wizard, responsible for the deaths of hundreds, possibly thousands. If it were her dying wish, she only wanted some power back in her feeble bones to maul whatever part of him she could reach.
With the key in his hands, Draco unlocked her cell door and walked in, pulling it back behind him with a *click*. The power dynamic wasnât lost on her - she sat, half clothed and freezing on the ground while he stood tall above her, with the literal keys to her freedom now jingling in his pocket.
He knelt in front of her and all she could do was pull against her chains in a futile attempt to free herself from his pitying gaze.
âYour taunting is cruel, Malfoy,â she said through clenched teeth. It was useless to point out his cruelty, though. He knew who he was. âHere to finish the job yourself?â
She could see his face more clearly, now that he was mere inches away from her. His grey eyes were a pool of ice, as cold as his heart.
âYou jump to conclusions too freely,â Draco tutted. âIâm only here to make you an offer.â He contemplated something for a moment before adding, âOr rather, a request in exchange for your freedom.â
