BOOKWORM.

draco knows how much these events mean to hermione. to make a difference in a person's life is hermione's ultimate dream and what better way than to show her support for people who are treated less than her? she'd first showed this side of herself in school with S.P.E.W and even though he hadn't believed in what she was doing at the time, it had surprised him to see ron being unsupportive of her. at the time he hadn't thought it was very gryffindor-like, but he knew now that people were more than just their houses.

reaching forwards, he takes hermione's hand in his and links their fingers together, his thumb brushing gently over her skin. "yeah, i'll go. thanks for inviting me. do i need to bring anything?"

#nifflerstolen #( are we still a secret if i told you / librarian au ft. nifflerstolen. )

It's still new. Brand new. Like, newborn baby new. A relationship in it's infancy stages. And one with Draco Malfoy of all people. So even though she's come to feel totally at ease with him, she can't help but second guess everything she does and says. What if she says something wrong and this thing crumbles before it even has a chance to get off the ground?

Coffee-hued eyes go from their joined hands to his face, and she breathes a sigh of relief as she sees the earnestness in the grey of his own eyes. "Just yourself and deep pockets?" she jokes with a half-arsed chuckle, fingers closing around his own as she steps in close. "There'll be a charity auction. I hope you like art."

#( hermione g. )#ANGEL BABY

"i thought you lot were meant to be morally obligated to do the right thing?" draco responds, his grey eyes narrowing. isn't that what gryffindors were about? to be annoyingly self-righteous and chained to their moral compass? it's what irked draco about gryffindors in the past, but it seems if that case were true, he wouldn't be out of a piece of toast.

draco's mouth nearly drops open when granger takes his half-bitten sausage off his plate with her fingers like a complete animal. and like a cherry on top to the ungodly awful sight, granger stuffs her mouth with more of his toast! absolute blasphemy. "you ever heard of table manners, granger?" he scoffs, shaking his head like this entire scenario was of the worst offences anyone could make. "you win. i've lost my appetite thanks to your barbaric behaviour. if i get irritable later, just know it's all your fault."

#signetrings #( the stars ; the moon ; they have all been blown out / eighth year au ft. signetrings. )#WALK HIM LIKE A DOG HERMIONE

Triumph. Sweet, sweet triumph.

Hermione grins (close-lipped because contrary to his belief she's not a complete barbarian and she draws the line at chewing with her mouth open), the waits until she swallows to reply to him with all the cheek she can muster. "Must be my uncivilised muggle upbringing." Something she can only say because she knows by now that he doesn't honestly believe that drivel, but some part of him did once and so she still likes to drive the point home occasionally.

One more bite and she finishes off the sausage, topping off the entire display by licking her fingers clean of the grease and plopping the half eaten slice of toast back onto his abandoned plate. "Right. Come on then." She bounces up, bringing her bag and book along with her as she walks out of the Great Hall without looking back, expecting he'll follow.

he should have known granger would take that as an invitation to sit down and watch him eat. ever the micromanager, honestly. it seems he couldn't escape it even as he ate. jokes on her — draco could eat as slow as irritatingly possible just for her benefit. he does so now, picking up his previously abandoned fork and its perfect bite. he draws the food to his mouth and chews slowly, his gaze equal parts mocking and innocent. it's only until granger reaches over and swipes a piece of toast from his plate does he frown. bested again at his own game.

"okay, well, you're welcome to eat breakfast off your own plate at your own table." draco huffs, akin to a small child who hadn't learned to share just yet. he makes a point of taking the other half of the toast and biting it. that'll repel her. "i'm sure they have just as good buttered bread over there."

#signetrings #( the stars ; the moon ; they have all been blown out / eighth year au ft. signetrings. )

Hermione would be more miffed about the glacial pace at which he eats if she didn't catch the spark of irritation in his eyes as she'd swiped the toast. Two could play at this game. And when it came to Malfoy, she'd gotten rather good at it. "See that's where you're wrong. It tastes all the better when it's stolen."

And to really drive the point home she also snatches his half-eaten sausage off his plate with her fingers (he'll call her a heathen for her callous disregard for silverware, she just knows it), and takes a bite, following it up with another mouthful of toast. If he's going to eat so slowly then she'll have to help him polish off his plate clearly.

a crushing sense of dread washes over him, cold and bitter and biting. the pull towards occlumency tugs, and it takes every ounce of his energy not to pull back. how easy and painless it would be to have his eyes glaze over, his mind shut down, and his body go numb. he wouldn't feel like she'd just reached into his chest, felt around for a red ball of mush, and yanked the beating organ out.

and yet, the distance hermione creates for them feels just as damning.

"don't?" he nearly spits. all the anger and frustration and confusion he's bottled up for months rises, and there's no stopping him now. the call for safety — to abide by her terms and forget his words ever slipped out of his mouth vanishes. hermione needed to know. if she was going to hurt him and cut him loose, she needed to know everything. squeeze every ounce of everything he's unknowingly given her and toss him aside. "don't say i stayed as long as i have for you? don't say i volunteered for those infiltration missions for you? don't say i haven't purposefully thrown myself into a curse to be rid of this world because i know how much it would hurt you?" draco's voice cracks. to him, this was the same as handing hermione his wand so she could do whatever she pleased to him. he was at her mercy whether they liked it or not.

#signetrings #( i would burn the world to bring some heat to you / war au ft. signetrings. )

It's strange now to think how much simpler things were when he hated her. He'd been a thorn in her side, for sure, but at least they'd known where they stood with each other. Ignorant to the tumultuous rollercoaster of emotions that was what they'd become. And still, Hermione knows that given her time again, she'd do it all the same. She'd have healed his wounds and plotted ways to get the mark off his arm whil sharing a bottle of god awful vodka. She'd have tried to help him with his mother. She'd have kissed him for the first time at the end of that battle and she'd have slipped into his room in the wee hours all over again. You could hand her a time turner with the opportunity to redo it all a thousand times over and she'd choose the same. Every time.

Because for all his talk of how irritatingly self-sacrificing she is, Hermione is incredibly selfish when it comes to him.

It's why she couldn't cast that spell and protect him like she did her parents. Why she spends her every night with her legs tangled in his even though she knows she's only dooming them more.

"How am I supposed to live with that?" she asks him, her tone pleading and salty tears streaming down her face. Nobody had ever warned her that love would hurt like this. "What am I supposed to do if anything happens to you? How am I supposed to how could I survive knowing it was my fault you stayed?" She's working herself up, teetering on the edge of a panic attack that's been overdue for days, building and building with every dead body. She's supposed to protect him. She can't do that if he's throwing himself into every fire they stumble upon just because he knows that's what she would do.

there are worst things than watching the witch he's come to care about in depths he can't verbalize or comprehend reduce him to the boy he once was and what everyone in the order anticipated he'd become, but in this moment, draco can't think of anything else. there's a bludgeoning ache in chest, directly atop his heart as hermione goes off on her string of tangents. all the reasons why they wouldn't work or shouldn't work. they've had this conversation before — draco's had no problem taking it in the past. absorbing her worries and sorrows and grief, carrying every bit of it on his shoulders like it weighed nothing.

but this? this was different. he knew it as soon as she'd flinched away from him, and it felt like his entire world was shattering and decaying around him. funny how it was the idea of losing hermione granger that would tip him over the edge, and not the war or the continuous danger his mother was in.

draco tries not to close off and shut down, intent on keeping his promise he'd made on a night opposite to this — a night where hermione had looked at him like he was worth something more than what the universe had decided for him. it was in exact opposition of how she was glaring at him now.

"you're an idiot for someone so smart." he bites out, his fists clenching and his jaw tightening and his heart sinking. the possibility that this could have all been one-sided dawns on him. maybe it had stayed as an escape for her. to dissociate and distract themselves from the war. only draco was a fool to not keep himself in check. it's a pill he can't — no, refuses to swallow. and in some stupid form of a hail mary, draco says, "you're irritating and stubborn and abrasive and you've embedded yourself into my skin, my veins, my soul... my heart. if i wanted to be rid of you, i would have left months ago before you could have had the fucking chance."

#signetrings #( i would burn the world to bring some heat to you / war au ft. signetrings. )

Four nights ago she'd woken up in a cold sweat, the images from her nightmare burned into her retinas as if they weren't just horrors her mind had conjured. Most night she wakes with a gasp or a scream. They all do. And they don't talk about it. Nightmares had become such a part of her nightly routine she barely consciously registers them anymore, but this one was different. This one had been so vivid she'd felt she'd lived it for real, and when she awoke it was with a quiet sort of dread. No screams or starts. Nothing to rouse him from his sleep.

And so she'd watched him. Focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin pressed against her, counting the beats of his heart below her palm. Very real signs that he was alive. That he was okay. That he wasn't the still, unblinking corpse of her nightmare.

"Don't." She takes a deliberate step back from him this time, had held out in front of him as if she could stop the weight of the confession through sheer force of will. "Don't say it. Don't." It's true, she's an idiot when it comes to this, but she's not blind, and Hermione thinks she's known it for a while now. She just hasn't wanted to acknowledge it. He's obscured by fresh tears as she shakes her head, lips pressed together tight in an attempt to stop herself from crying.

After that nightmare she'd watched him for forty minutes. Watched every breath and counted every heartbeat. And then she'd reached over to the bedside table for her wand, the vine wood sliding into her hand with a familiar ease. She'd taken her parents memories with that wand. Had made them forget all about her and sent them away, where the horrors of her world couldn't follow them. She could it to him too. She knew the spell. It would be easy. A quick word and a twist of her wrist and he wouldn't remember why he chose to stay. He'd wake up to an empty bed and wonder why he would stay on the side of the Order for so long at risk to his own life, and then he would leave. And he would be safe.

She'd held that wand at his sleeping temple for fifteen minutes before she talked herself out of it. Now she wishes she hadn't. Because if it's true, if it's her he's stayed for, she'll not survive it if anything happens to him.

"Please don't."

the sight before him is unsurprising yet completely unexpected — how those two can be true at once is a phenomenon draco can't dwell on at the moment. he's got a bushy-haired witch demanding things of him at seven o'clock in the morning to deal with.

draco reluctantly settles his fork ( along with a piece of egg and sausage wedged between it — only granger would time her appearance this poorly to deprive him of the most important meal of the day ) down onto his plate and reaches for a napkin to dap at his lips. ever the mannered aristocrat his mother had taught him to be. his gaze flickers to the book that had been shoved in his line of sight, and he nearly chortles at the title. his saving grace ( willpower ) is quickly defeated as granger rattles on and on, vague to anyone eavesdropping but completely transparent within context. granger was bothered, thirsting for information only he had ( thanks to his mother who had graciously provided him answers to every question he had when he'd first seen granger's freckles ).

draco can't help the amused quirk in his lips and the glittering of his eyes. did he feel a little powerful knowing more than gryffindor's resident know-it-all? absolutely. he even basks in that fact for a full minute.

"hogwarts won't have any books about it. it's a black family legend." draco says with a haughty laugh, as if that fact were the most obvious of facts. he was absolutely tickled about this entire situation. "can i finish my breakfast first? i have an inkling you won't leave me alone today and i'd rather have the sustenance to endure that."

#signetrings #( the stars ; the moon ; they have all been blown out / eighth year au ft. signetrings. )

She feels it even now, with the Slytherin table between them. The way her heart races, the way her skin flushes. It's like an illness that has taken over her and Hermione is desperate to know as much as she can about this ancestral bloody magic. So she can figure out how to reverse it and get her mind back from where it's stuck preoccupied with him.

"Fine, but eat quick." Hermione sits across from him with a huff. Though the (very loud) impatient side of her wants to yank him out of his seat and get into it, she's worked alongside Malfoy enough lately to know that'll only cause him to be more difficult. And besides, now that she's sat at the table, her stomach growls loudly with the reminder of food.

Well, if he's going to make her wait for answers...

Reaching over, she grabs a piece off buttered toast off his plate and takes a bite, talking around the mouthful when she notices his look. "What? I got caught up in research last night and missed dinner."

"you have no idea, do you?"

They've been fighting. What's new.

It's become a bit of a routine for them by now. When it all becomes too much, when she's sick and tired of feeling nothing except for grief and fear and she just... snaps. It's him she goes to first. For fucking or for fighting. Anything to feel something more than this bottomless pit of dread.

They lost Seamus today. To a curse nobody knew the name of. A curse so horrific that Podmore had put him out of his misery with a clean Avada. Quick. And far less painful than what he had been enduring in the moments beforehand. That knowledge is a cold comfort when she'd witnessed her childhood friend writhing desperately on the ground pleading for his mother.

On her return to the safehouse, she'd been on bit of a rampage. And her target, as always, was Malfoy. It's his own fault, really. He's always there. Watching and waiting. As if he knows what's coming. As if he's welcoming it. Give it to me. I can take it. He'd whispered that to her once, against her naked breast as she moved atop him. At the time she'd thought he'd been urging on the roll of her hips, begging for a faster pace, but sometimes she wonders if he meant more. If he meant her rage, her sorrow, her fear. If he intended to tuck it away for her. He is always there. Practically begging to take it.

Her nose is ruddy and her cheeks wet with frustrated tears. She'd stormed out of the house after a particularly creative slew of insults and he'd followed her out into the woods. Somewhat embarrassingly because the wards are pulled in tight around the perimeter and there really is nowhere to so she ends up pacing along the faint shimmer of it. Ranting at him. Accusing him of all manner of things he hasn't done yet. Running off. Packing up and using all those inherited galleons to disappear. To leave them. To leave her.

He's a lifeline she's been clinging onto and he's going to tire of her sooner rather than later so maybe the less painful thing to do would be to put this thing between them out of it's misery too. Only she's never been clean and quick. She's always been impulsive, messy. Torn, bloody edges.

He steps closer and she flinches away, even though every fibre of her being is screaming at her to move closer to him, to tuck herself into the warmth she knows so well. Hermione's accepted by now that she's in love with him. Or maybe the idea of him. She's not sure. All she does know is that she can't stand this. How anybody stand this?

You have no idea, do you?

"No idea about what?" there's still that bite to her words, but it wavers on the last bit and she thinks she might be close to breaking.

#signetrings #( i would burn the world to bring some heat to you / war au ft. signetrings. )#( answered. )

gloomglimmer

› TENSION LINER PROMPTS

"I dare you to try."

"Do you always get close?"

"You’re pushing my limits."

"Stop looking at me like that."

"I’m losing control here."

"You have no idea, do you?"

"I can’t resist you anymore."

"Stay back, or don’t."

"I know what you want."

"This is getting dangerous now."

"You’re too tempting for me."

"I shouldn’t want this, but…"

"I don’t play fair, remember?"

"Careful, you’re testing me."

"You’re just making it worse."

"You’re too close for comfort."

"Do you always push buttons?"

"Stop before I kiss you."

"You’re making it too hard."

"I can’t stop thinking about you."

"I want you too much."

"You know exactly what you’re doing."

"I’m not playing games here."

"You’ve crossed the line now."

"Keep pushing, and you’ll regret it."

"This is dangerous, isn’t it?"

"I’m trying not to care."

"Don’t make me regret this."

"You’re playing with fire."

"You don’t know what’s coming."

"I shouldn’t be this close."

"We’re getting dangerously close now."

"I can feel the heat."

"Don’t test me right now."

"I want you too badly."

"Don’t make me chase you."

"You’re distracting me, you know."

"I won’t fall for this."

"I want you, but…"

"What do you want from me?"

"I’ll never give in."

"I’m trying not to care."

"You’re playing with my patience."

"Don’t make this harder, please."

"I can’t stop this feeling."

"I’m already in too deep."

"You won’t walk away unscathed."

"You’re walking a fine line."

"I’m trying to stay calm."

"What are you doing to me?"

#( prompts. )

finally kissing the person you’ve been pining for.

I did it for you.

He says it with such earnestness. Such matter-of-fact conviction. As if it were the most obvious answer in the world. As if there'd never been another choice. Just because she wished it. Just because it was something that would make her happy. He says it in that way that tells her he'd do it again. No hesitation.

It all happens so quickly that anybody (including him) couldn't be faulted for saying she'd acted impulsively. Instinctively even. But she's been thinking about this for months now.

Hermione takes two quick steps forward and then she's pulling him down by the lapels of his black coat, yanking him to her level with only mild success because he's got about a foot on her and she can tell by the split second she has to see the widening of his eyes that he hadn't expected it. It's clumsy and ill-timed, she gets more of his chin than his lips and her teeth knock against his just shy of being painful. It should be embarrassing, but it's not. He doesn't let it be. Because nobody can say that Draco Malfoy doesn't catch up quickly, and once he's on the same page as her, the kiss turns from awkward to life-altering.

His hands cup her jaw, thumb tucking below her chin and tilting her chin up a little more, giving way for his mouth to envelope hers. One hand drops to curl around her waist and she rises on her toes as he scoops her in flush against his body, deepening the kiss. As if there were no other air on the planet than that which resides in her lungs. As if he's never known any sweeter taste than her lips. If this is how it's supposed to have felt, Hermione isn't certain she's ever truly been kissed before this moment.

@nifflerstolen

#( answered. )#nifflerstolen #( are we still a secret if i told you / librarian au ft. nifflerstolen. )

ohisms

‪‪❤︎‬ ˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 & 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 ! ( a collection of 75+ kisses. feel free to specify the initiating muse. potentially mature content within. UPDATED 02/25 ! )

finally kissing the person you’ve been pining for.

pulling them in for a kiss while showering together.

a kiss shared during a game ( truth or dare, spin the bottle, etc ).

kissing your lover to show you forgive them.

a coy, chaste kiss meant to say thank you.

an intimate kiss full of relief the second you're finally alone.

wiping away your lover’s tears as you kiss them.

a kiss muffled by laughter in a library, hidden away among the shelves.

lazy kisses on the sofa while the television runs.

kisses while wrapping your legs around your lover.

a quick peck on the cheek as one party rushes off.

a kiss to prove you don’t have feelings for them.

a kiss to convince them not to leave bed in the morning.

a kiss to distract them from stitching a wound.

a parting kiss before one party goes away for a long time.

biting their lip amidst a kiss, drawing blood.

heated kisses while tugging on their hair.

abruptly kissing a stranger to scare off the people following you.

an emotional kiss bringing one party to tears.

a bruising kiss full of desperation and urgency.

distracting your lover from a task by kissing their neck.

standing on your tiptoes to kiss their forehead.

kissing down the column of your lover's neck, leaving marks.

a kiss while being reunited after a long time.

kissing your lover in a moment of sheer joy.

a dutiful kiss with no true feeling behind it.

kissing your lover to take away their pain.

colliding with a wall, then each other's lips.

a kiss placed over their freshly bandaged wound.

a kiss while slow dancing close and intimately.

sharing a spontaneous kiss with a stranger.

an abrupt , heated kiss during the middle of a fight.

a kiss motivated by a dare from a third party.

an adrenaline-fueled kiss while standing on the ledge of a rooftop.

kissing them to shut them up.

urgent, messy kisses as both parties scramble to undress.

a kiss to wake your lover up in the morning.

sharing a kiss in a heavy downpour of rain.

kissing your lover just above their waistband.

kissing your partner to seal a marriage.

pushing your love down onto the bed to worship their body with kisses.

a possessive kiss to stake a claim.

a kiss to resolve suppressed ( romantic / sexual ) tension.

a kiss attempting to convince the other party to stay.

kissing the top of their head as you hold them.

a risky kiss between forbidden lovers.

a kiss while hiding away from flashing cameras.

a kiss that means absolutely nothing.

kissing the swell of your lover's breast.

a kiss that leaves lipstick stains.

a kiss shared on a rooftop while the sun ( sets / rises ).

a flirtatious kiss on the back of the hand.

sensual kisses down the length of their back.

kissing them to confess your true feelings.

sneaking off to a public bathroom to make out.

a kiss to forgive one another after a fight.

a kiss on the forehead as the other sleeps.

an ( accidental / mutually ) drunken kiss.

an unexpected kiss during a fake dating scheme.

kissing your partner after they've given you head.

caging your lover against a wall with your arms to kiss them.

a kiss after receiving good news.

an emotional kiss, relieved to find your lover alive.

crowded, heated kisses in the backseat of a car.

a tentative , exploratory kiss between friends.

a kiss shared between enemies during combat.

a kiss that smears blood everywhere.

kissing them even though you know you shouldn't.

kissing your lover after believing you’d lost them.

a kiss after a devastating event , meant to comfort.

a possessive kiss in front of a jealous third party.

kisses while pulling them into your lap.

a heated kiss while holding them by the throat.

kissing your lover under the night sky while stargazing.

a kiss to seal a promise that you just made.

kissing your lover lazily first thing in the morning.

holding your lover by the jaw to kiss them.

holding their face, kissing the tears from their cheeks.

a kiss to your lover’s stomach as you travel down their body.

an abrupt kiss that you melt into after a moment of hesitation.

sleepy , domestic morning kisses in the kitchen while making breakfast.

a rushed kiss before one party leaves for work.

a final kiss shared while holding your dying lover.

#( prompts. )

mugglebrn asked:

My muse catches your muse’s wrist before they can leave, their grip tightening just slightly.

the pressure on his wrist has him stopping, turning back to face the girl he never thought he'd see again, much less consider dating. "everything okay, hermione?"

#( are we still a secret if i told you / librarian au ft. nifflerstolen. )#nifflerstolen

It takes her a second for her brain to catch up with her body and register that she's just grabbed is wrist. Hermione drops it quickly, as if it had burned her, brown eyes wide and slightly panicked as words tumble out of her she's not really thought through. "Everything's fine. Really. It's just... there's a little fundraising event here on Friday night. For werewolf rights. Would you maybe... I was wondering if you'd like to come?"

mugglebrn asked:

My muse whispers something in your muse’s ear that makes them blush.

"hermione, merlins beard, we're in a restaurant." heat rises to his cheeks and damn her if she isn't sitting there looking like the cat that just got the cream. "you're a public menace, do you know that?" he grins, spearing a piece of steak on his fork and reaches across the table. the fact ron had this amazing woman and let her slip through his fingers amazed draco to this day. "just wait until we get home, i'll show you just how you make me feel."

#nifflerstolen #( are we still a secret if i told you / librarian au ft. fcntasyadvcnturc. )

One might attribute the cheeky grin she's sporting to a Slytherin, if it weren't for the bold way her stocking-clad toes slide up his calf, or the absolutely filthy thing she'd just murmured to him across the table. Hermione never did consider herself much of a master seductress, but she has all the daring of a true Gryffindor. "I've been told that before, you know?" though generally for things like performing a citizens arrest on a woman-cum-beetle or permanently scarring a snitch, not for tempting her lover with details of what's to come later.

"They're taking too long with dessert," she pouts in a way that's oddly reminiscent of him as she says it.

#( hermione g. )#as I always say: the hermione granger of my dreams

mcflymemes

PROMPTS FOR THE ROMANCE OF HANDS & TOUCH * include 'reverse' for the reversal of the prompt

[ table ] sender reaches for receiver's hand under the table

[ knowing ] sender has been holding receiver's hand all this time without realizing it and hurries to let go

[ cling ] sender scrambles to grab receiver's hand in a hasty situation

[ tangle ] sender carefully knots their fingers with receiver's

[ thumb ] sender starts gently caressing receiver's knuckles with their thumb

[ squeeze ] sender reassures receiver with a squeeze of their hand

[ aligned ] sender lays their hand flat against receivers, lining up every digit to compare sizes

[ pinky ] sender hooks their pinky finger with receiver's

[ ring ] sender admires a ring on receiver's hand

[ desperate ] sender is in pain and squeezes tightly to receiver's hand to channel the agony elsewhere

[ let go ] after holding onto receiver's hand for a while, sender finally, reluctantly releases their grip

[ swing ] sender holds receiver's hand and starts swinging their hands back and forth in a playful way

[ promise ] sender performs a pinky promise with receiver

[ piano ] sender begins tapping their fingers along receiver's back like they're playing a piano

[ shoulder ] sender sets a hand on receiver's shoulder and leaves it there

[ strand ] sender reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind receiver's ear

[ fix ] sender gently fixes receiver's hair

[ boop ] sender lightly taps the tip of receiver's nose

[ clean ] after eating, sender reaches up to clean something off receiver's face

[ napkin ] sender uses a napkin to tidy receiver's face

[ chin ] sender takes receiver's chin between their fingers and holds it

[ lips ] in the midst of an intimate exchange, sender smooths their thumb back and forth over receiver's lips

[ play ] sender plays with receiver's hair

[ knead ] sender gives receiver a much needed shoulder massage

[ accidental ] sender and receiver reach for the same thing and their fingers brush unintentionally

[ pat ] sender pats the top of receiver's head

[ thigh ] sender begins caressing along the receiver's thigh

[ smooth ] sender strokes up and down across the receiver's arm

[ comfortable ] sender picks the receiver's legs up and drapes them over their lap

[ straddle ] sender guides the receiver over and coaxes them fully onto their lap

[ shirt ] sender slips a hand up the receiver's shirt

[ hem ] sender plays with the hem of receiver's shirt

[ loop ] while standing behind the receiver, the sender hooks a finger in the belt loop of their trousers

[ pocket ] sender slides a hand into receiver's back pocket

[ guide ] sender uses both of their hands to guide the receiver into a kiss

[ push ] in the midst of a dangerous situation, the sender pushes the receiver out of harm's way

[ shield ] the sender drags receiver behind them to keep them safe

[ remind ] sender sets their hands on both sides of receiver's face and tries to get them to look at them directly

[ pressure ] sender sets a hand on the small of receiver's back

[ neck ] sender sets a hand around the base of receiver's neck and gingerly kneads the muscles there

[ braid ] standing behind the receiver, sender starts braiding their hair

[ undo ] sender takes receiver's hair out of their updo/ponytail

[ clasp ] sender helps receiver put on a necklace

[ zip ] sender assists receiver in zipping up or taking off a difficult piece of clothing

[ wave ] sender waves goodbye to receiver for the very last time

[ both ] sender takes both of receiver's hands in their own and guides them close to one another

[ hug ] sender slides both arms around receiver and clings to them

[ handshake ] sender and receiver shake hands and hold on to each other a little longer than intended

[ behind ] sender hugs receiver from behind and tucks against their body

[ sleep ] sender is asleep and reaches for receiver in the middle of the night

[ spoon ] while spooning, sender tangles their hands with receiver

[ tap ] sender appears behind receiver and taps their shoulder to let them know they're standing there

[ patch ] sender patches up a wound on receiver's body

[ propose ] after a successful proposal, sender slides the engagement ring onto receiver's finger

[ paint ] sender applies body paint to receiver's nude form

[ undress ] sender takes their time removing receiver's clothes piece by piece

[ cover ] sender shoves a hand over receiver's eyes, preventing them from witnessing a terrible sight

[ pillow ] sender pats the pillow next to them, encouraging receiver to climb in bed beside them

[ gift ] sender offers a wrapped present out to the receiver

#( prompts. )

it's clear to draco that he's making hermione uncomfortable, and who could blame her? he hadn't exactly made her feel welcome at hogwarts. he almost winces at a sudden memory of 12-year-old draco calling hermione a mudblood and if it wasn't for the pure, unadulterated joy on scorpius' face, he'd be legging it out of the library and never looking back. "right, of course. well, thank you. i really need to bring him out more."

he expects the conversation to peter off because, again, why would hermione talk to him, but to his surprise she continues to answer his questions and doesn't tell him to piss off. "i wouldn't say that. duelling may have not been your forte, but you do have a mean right hook." he says from experience - it was perhaps the first time she'd ever terrified him. "ah - yeah, scorpius. he's... he's my world, honestly. i think i'd be lost if it wasn't for him." true, he'd been lost, in a funk, for years after astoria died, and true the only reason he was here was because his mother had told him to get out of the house, but scorpius truly was the only thing that had kept him together. "yeah, i... i was in a dark place, for a while. it wasn't, isn't, fair to him, so i'm making an effort to be more present. to be in the moment." why he was telling her all of this, he had no worldy idea, but it was good to talk. she may not care, but it lifted a weight he hadn't even realised he'd been carrying. "what about you? do you and ron have any kids?"