Mirrella Frost

Writer; lover of escapism WIP: Soft in the Places We Swore Were Stone, a Dramione fic

[mirrellafrost]

Soft in the Places We Swore Were Stone (excerpt)

Draco sighed and ran a hand over his face, scratching his palm lightly with the stubble on his neck.

His gaze slid to the weather-charmed globe glowing on the corner of his desk. Inside, his mother’s greenhouse stood in perfect miniature beneath a flurry of snow. He plucked it from his desk, turned it in his hand, and watched the flakes swirl. 

Since you’re in that dreadful building all hours of the day, she had said when she’d given it to him just a few years into the job. 

He hadn’t had the heart to tell her the Auror Office windows were already charmed to show the outside world.  So he’d kept the gift. 

Malfoy Gardens had been her favourite place in the world, especially toward the end. And now, when the snow gathered thick and heavy inside the glass, Draco could almost smell the icy, damp earth. The citrus blossoms. His mother’s perfume lingering in the air. 

But it was only a token. A reminder of what was gone.

Because his family was dead. His parents… gone. 

His friends, the few that remained, were scattered across the world. Their lives were full of school runs, holidays with in-laws, and children’s laughter. 

Laughter that helped fill the aching void that the war left in them all. 

Draco knew he could’ve had those things. Perhaps he still could.

But the truth was, he hadn’t the energy for it. Nor the interest.  Not anymore.

Every attempt at companionship had slipped through his fingers. Every witch who smiled at him, who said all the right things but never reached that raw, restless place inside him, only pushed him further from love. 

He was tired. 

Tired of endless dates and polite conversation that drained him faster than silence ever could.  Tired of meaningless bodies falling into his bed and leaving him lonelier than before.

Grief had changed him. Not that it needed much help. His life had shifted. His beliefs, his wants, his needs. 

His father had finally met his undoing at the bottom of a glass.  His mother, taken by a blood curse. 

And all Draco was left with were memories. 

Impossible memories.  And an empty estate.  And a snow globe on his desk. 

[mirrellafrost]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Original Male Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Padma Patil, Penelope Padgett Fawley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Original Muggle Character(s), Original House-Elf Character(s), Original Characters, Luna Lovegood, Theodore Nott, Ginny Weasley Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Found Family, Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Partners, Auror Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Luna Lovegood & Draco Malfoy Friendship, Alcohol, Bisexual Theodore Nott, Denial of Feelings, Detective Noir Summary:

Auror Draco Malfoy has learned to survive as a traitor in a post-war world by becoming immovable. Still. Careful. Useful. Routine keeps the dark at bay. Long nights at the Ministry, quiet meals in an empty Manor, the cold comfort of predictability. He isn't happy, but he's functional. It's enough. Or, it was.

Until Hermione Granger comes home.

After nearly a decade abroad - travelling, working for MACUSA, and avoiding the parts of herself she'd rather not examine - she returns to London for one year. A favour to Harry, she insists. Temporary. Contained.

Neither of them expects to be partnered together. Harry, unfortunately, has other plans.

Thrown into long nights, dangerous cases, and a slow, reluctant closeness, Draco and Hermione find themselves breaking down the walls they'd spent so long rebuilding.

They're older now. Lonelier. Haunted by grief and regret; softer in places they swore were stone, sharper where life cut them thin.

Falling in love was never part of the assignment. But it's happening anyway.