A soulmate but not the kissing kind because love comes in many colours and your perfect match can be any shade. Not always the red of a heart; sometimes it’s the blue of the sky, the one you fell out of together with your hands tied.
Prologue- Parapsychology is live. PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND AUTHOR'S NOTE.
👻 Paranormal Dramione
📖 Eighth Year
🤫 Secret Relationship
👊 Possessive Draco
🥵 Smut
archiveofourown.org/works/66570634
#dramione #dhr #ao3
First lines of my new wip 'Mine' Coming this Friday. I'm so excited to be posting these sneak peeks again! 🥰
#dhrwipwednesday
Organization for Transformative Works: Elections News: Cast Your Vote!
The #OTW is pleased to announce candidates for the 2025 Election. Read more at: otw-news.org/5n75a8m6
If you were too young in 2003 here is what Bush told the American people:
1) The Iraq War won’t cost a lot of money
3) We won’t need a lot of troops
4) We’ll bring peace and freedom to Iraq
5) We’ll find WMDs
6) We’ll be welcomed as liberators
7) It will be easy
8) It won’t take long
All lies.
Spotlight on Policy & Abuse
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I'm excited to announce I'm back with a new #Dramione fanfic coming June 27 to AO3 and FFN!
👻 Paranormal Dramione
📖 Eighth Year
🤫 Secret Relationship
👊 Possessive Draco
🥵 Smut
Draco leaned in close, wiping a bit of chocolate at the corner of her lip before pressing a tender kiss.
“Your sneaky husband, wife.”
FIN
They hovered as the liquid magically poured into each container before floating into their extended hands.
“I suppose you’re right. A break is nice,” Hermione said, looking around the serene setting before sipping the refreshing hot chocolate.
“You’re still a sneaky husband.”
to make you spend it with me.”
He took her by the arm and led her to sit on the bench. He stretched the flannel over her lap with a flourish of his wand before sliding beneath next to her. With another wave the thermos next to him twisted open, and two white mugs floated out of the basket.
her outrage.
“I already informed Potter of my plan, and he gave me his full blessing. You've hardly been home in two weeks. It’s like living with a ghost that comes and goes. No, I’m not mad or blaming you. It’s one of the evils of your position. You are entitled to a break, and I’m selfish-
before scrambling to her feet.
“You tricked me, Draco! You can’t just portkey me from my office. There are wards to alert the Aurors if something like that happens. Merlin Harry’s going to have a fit when he finds us. You sneaky snake, you-”
His finger pressed against her moving lips, silencing-
in the surrounding copse of trees. The air smelled of fresh spring rain, and something buttery warm was wafting from the picnic basket perched on a bench by the pond.
A familiar hand appeared in her vision, reminding her of who brought her here. She smacked his hand away-
feeling of having a hook catch the back of her robes & fling her out of her office with her traitorous, grinning husband. A second later, she stopped spinning, landing on her bum on something soft. Around her, the deafening noiselessness of her office was replaced by the twittering of birds in the-
toward her with his fingertips.
“You’re more than welcome to tell me all about it as long as you eat while doing it.”
‘Bossy Slytherin,’ she thought with a huff, reaching out and grabbing the knot on top. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise as her grumbling stomach churned with a familiar-
sat and floo'd straight to her office.
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't be cross with you. This week has me knackered, and it will only become more stressful once we move into the House of Purebloods. Pucey has been lobbying against us and-”
Draco set the package down and leaned forward to push it-
Oh, how silly of her. He'd reminded her several times last night not to forget her food. She had every intention of remembering until Percy sent a floo message as she touched up her hair, warning the negotiations for the ban were collapsing. Panicked, Hermione ran past the counter where the bento-
I decided I would deliver it myself instead of making poor Icarus bring it to you again.”
He withdrew a neatly stacked bamboo bento box tied up in a Slytherin green kerchief from inside his magically extended pocket. Embarrassment flushed Hermione beet red from hair root to chest.
It was a mutually agreed-upon rule that they would refer to themselves by their marital status only in the most emotional situations, and this was no laughing matter to her.
“Well, wife,” he began solemnly, “I noticed you didn't take the lunch I so thoughtfully prepared for you this morning.-
the wingbacks; these are much more comfortable.”
Her temperature was rising, or perhaps it was a culmination of her annoyance, lack of sleep, and hanger. Either way, he was about to be transfigured into a fluffy ferret and booted out.
“Why are you here, husband?”
Draco's smile vanished.
You know I'm amid political warfare trying to get your illegal potions bill passed in the House of Warlocks!”
Instead of answering, the wayward wizard sauntered to one of the plush armchairs across her desk and settled into the seat.
“You were right to turn down my mother’s suggestion to bring-
Hermione looked up and was shocked to find an annoying blonde prat leaning against the doorframe. His grin was all it took for her to slam her quill down, splattering the memo beneath with more black blotches.
“Are you kidding me, Draco? Did you schedule an appointment for today?-
work she already had. Snatching the most persistent memo next to her ear, Hermione dipped her quill more aggressively than she meant to, causing a few drops to splash onto the pristine wood.
“Tsk, tsk, Madam Minister, is that any way to treat a Malfoy antique desk I so graciously loaned to you?”
nearly missing her secretary's beehive hair.
“Oh, I’m so sorry Wendy!”
“No trouble at all, Minister Granger. Your eleven o’clock appointment has arrived.”
“Send them in,” Hermione replied with an exasperated sigh.
She needed to cancel her next few meetings to focus on playing catch up with the-
up the right corner of her desk. And if one more aerial memo tapped against the side of her head while she tried to respond to another, the whole lot would be set aflame.
Satisfied with her written response, Hermione waved her wand a bit too hard and sent the parchment zooming out the door,-
The celebratory bottle of whiskey nestled in the bottom drawer of Hermione's desk called to her, though not for any reason to celebrate. Three stacks of legislative bills took up the majority of real estate on the left side of her workspace. A separate pile of ‘top secret clearance’ folders ate-
Spreading the word because I'm livid. DON'T sell fanfiction for profit. DON'T buy physical copies of fanfiction. Tagging fandoms I personally interact w but this message applies to all fandoms. Selling fanfic for profit is ILLEGAL. #AO3 #Fanfiction #hpfandom #hpfanfic #dhr #dramione #drarry #tomione
