#dramioneart

[dariaastrid]

New chapter is out!

“They’ve no reason to worry about me.” She froze mid-step. As always, Granger’s chest rose, her cheeks flushed, and her hands went straight to her hips. The longer time he spent with her, the more he relished needling her. Why did his mind always go blank around her? A corrupcting influence. “And why’s that?“

“Because I know the truth.” In a few quick steps he was looming over her, meeting her gaze, his voice hard at first, then softening to a whisper. “You’ve the power to turn anyone’s world upside down. You…” Without meaning to, his gaze fell to her lips. Damn it, his mind went blank again. “You’re the most dangerous witch of the century.”

[dariaastrid]

“Granger?”

“Mm?”

“Why’d you leave?”

“I’m sorry?” she says weakly.

“You know exactly what I mean,” low, insistent.

“I…” she struggles for words. “Look, uh…”

“Let’s just forget about what happened, all right? You’re our client, and I have to keep things strictly professional. Best option is for both of us to pretend it never happened.”

“Hmm,” Malfoy squints. “And if we don’t keep things professional, then…?”

“What do you mean, not professional?” Hermione asks sharply. “I can’t…”

“Can’t what?”

She feels like yelling at him.

“I’ll lose my job if…”

“If you fuck me?”

“What did you just say?” she asks, bewildered.

“You’ll still get your interview even if you fuck me. At least that way this pointless task will be fun. Win-win. Don’t you agree?”

“Malfoy, no.” She shakes her head, blinking several times. “No. If I gave you a reason to… Merlin… It’s just wrong. Completely out of line.”

[dariaastrid]

Through his lashes, he watches her step towards him. She stands over him, hands on her hips, looking down at him. Her cheeks are flushed, freckles dusted with ink at the tip of her nose, lips bitten red. Her smile is the rush of his first broom flight; her hair smells of sunlight and a cloudless sky, of the warmth of a home he’s lost. And her eyes — dark, rich wood, like the tree he once climbed to hide from a storm until his mother found him.

And Draco feels it — that vast, unstoppable pull towards her. For a moment the air he breathes feels charged, electric. He knows if he keeps looking at her, he’ll just break down and cry.

So instead of staring, Draco wraps his arms around her legs and presses his mouth to her knees, her hips, the hollow of her stomach. Granger threads her fingers through his hair, holding his head against her as she sways with the music. And it feels like his skin only exists where she touches him. As if he can only feel himself through her.

Wings Ink Love

[dariaastrid]

“Fantastic,” Hermione muttered. “Unbelievable. This is actually happening.”

“You’ll be fine. It’s just Malfoy.”

That Malfoy she’d tried to humiliate in front of a packed press conference. That Malfoy who had tormented her for six years at school. That Malfoy whose Dark Mark both repelled and fascinated her. She hadn’t feared him back then— she’d despised him. And the feeling had been mutual.

Just Malfoy. Just an incredible coincidence. Just a random kiss between two random people who happened to be in the same place.

Fantastic. Unbelievable. Phenomenal.

Merlin, help her.

Wings Ink Love

[dariaastrid]

New chapter is out.

“Don’t pretend you know my tastes and motives, Malfoy.”

“If you’re free to make guesses about mine, why shouldn’t I try the same?”

Her eyes narrowed. Draco bit his lip, watching her angry scowl. Perfect.

“At least my assumptions don’t stink of prejudice.”

“Is that so. Have you dated a troll?”

“What—”

“Anyone can claim they’re not as much of an arse as I am, in theory.”

The images flashing in his head had no business being there. Granger shifted awkwardly, and he closed his eyes, trying to drive the visions away.

“Do you think Tartini made up that story about the devil just for the fame?”(13)

“Will you dance with me?”

Ghosts, Granger, and Other Things That Haunt Me Loved the way this scene was imagined by @mbr-side

[dariaastrid]

Draco Malfoy, walking cliché of brooding self-pity. 

Pathetic.

Probably normal. Nothing to worry about.

Except after the Medusa, it is worse. As if he has lost something vital and cannot even name it. And it is not Granger. Not exactly. Or maybe it is. He is not sure how her turning up in his night managed to crack him open, but there it is. Their encounter was an accident. A detail to file and forget.

It was not as if he had not done this before. He was one of a hundred lonely, restless people prowling that basement full of buried hearts. You find someone, pretend for a while, walk away.

The worst part was that it did not stop. Not when he got home, not when he crawled into bed, not when he woke up the next morning already half hard and seeing her face. It was like tumbling headfirst down the stairs: too much mouth, too much skin, too much of everything,

[dariaastrid]

On the cover of Witch Weekly was Draco Malfoy, a golden Snitch hovering above his outstretched hands. The only other decoration was the tangle of roses inked where the Dark Mark had once been, the stems climbing to his shoulder and curling around his bicep. A naked Malfoy stared out with that sly smirk, and she could almost hear his voice in her head, reminding her she’d soon have to face him in person.

Merlin, she hates him, and that's worth remembering. 

Hermione, you hate him. Wings, ink, love Art by FLYORA.

[dariaastrid]

Adera made for Wings, Ink, Love for me. I love it 🤌🤌🤌