FridaBeth
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Based on @dramioneprompts “There’s a rumor going around.” Draco and Hermione get up to some Taylor Swift inspired mischief to create their own rumors. One-shot.
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“This is dangerous?”
“You have no idea, do you?” His eyes darkened as he came towards her. “Love, you’re alone with me in my room in the very early morning. You’re marrying me tomorrow so that I don’t have to go back to prison, and you’ve just proposed that I slowly corrupt you by degrees; that I have my way with you; that I teach you all about your body, about what makes you feel good, about how to be with a man; that we do everything but that one thing that would ruin us… and now you want me to kiss you. If that’s not dangerous, kitten, I don’t know what is.”
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With the passage of the Pureblood Marriages Act, Sirius Black has only weeks to marry a Muggle-born witch or face reimprisonment in Azkaban. Desperate, he has no choice but to turn to the only Muggle-born he knows: Hermione Granger. But there are complications to this fake union that neither of them has ever dreamt of… not the least of which is how much they actually want each other. This is a Marriage Law fic with a definite twist.
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- English
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- 34/34
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Bookmarked by FridaBeth
28 Dec 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
The next time she needed a Patronus, Hermione knew exactly which memory she would use: Sirius leaning against his bedroom door, his shirt still unbuttoned, grinning like the naughtiest scoundrel, and watching her with eyes like the clouds before sunrise.
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To be loved is to be known.
And there is nothing more alluring to Hermione Granger than the unknown.
A reintroduction beginning in eighth year and continuing into adulthood, told through a series of standout moments, stemming from the most unlikely of bonds.
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- English
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- 51,289
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- 4/4
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Bookmarked by FridaBeth
03 Mar 2024
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Bookmarker's Notes
Tell me why you stopped writing.” She demanded, still sodden, still standing by the fire.
“Hermione.” Her name on his lips was a plea, a prayer, filled with everything he’d never been able to say but always wanted to. It met her ears like a kiss. “I think you know why.”
She stepped forward then, the iron gate finally scaled. “Say it.”
“What do you want me to say?” he asked, shaking his head. “That I’m in love with you? That I have been for years? Certainly since that night under the yew tree, probably long before that. You sat on that bench and woke me up. Every day with you that year was like breathing fresh air for the first time.”
His hands were shaking, his voice cracking, but he persisted. Finally, he persisted.
“But you were with Weasley. You were always going to be with Weasley. And I couldn’t stand it. When the opportunity to work the merger in Montpellier came up, I jumped at it, thinking that the distance might help. But it didn’t, I just missed you.” His eyes met hers, sucking the air out of the room like a vacuum. “All day, every day, waiting by the window for your owl. Every time I ate breakfast, or read a good book, or saw something funny or confusing or interesting, I thought of you. It was constant.”
He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it gently. She wanted to touch him more than she’d ever wanted anything, but he wasn’t done, and she needed to know it all.
“Blaise was there when your letter arrived, when you asked to fire call, and he saw it all written on my face— which is your bloody fault, by the way, you convinced me to stop the occluding— so, we spoke about it. I realised I was never going to be able to do it…to be the friend you wanted, the friend you deserved.” He took another step closer, and she felt her lip wobble. “I couldn’t watch you marry him. I couldn’t sit there in attendance and pretend to be happy about it. It was selfish, loving you the way that I did. So, I tried to cut you out of me entirely, but it just left me hollow.”
They stood facing each other for a quiet moment, their ragged breaths the only sound besides the crackling fire. And then he reached into his pocket and withdrew his wand, waving it in her direction, drying her in an instant.
“It was misery without you, Hermione. Every minute of it. And then father got sick, and I returned home, and I thought…I don’t know, I thought I could just stay away,” he smiled sadly, as if laughing at his own foolishness. “And then you were there, beautiful and real and fucking furious with me. Every reason I ever had to push you away disappeared in an instant. I needed you, I need you, and so I would have done it. I would have watched you marry him. I would have been there, and I would have been happy for you. Because I realise now, that’s what love is— it's selfish and it's selfless.”
Tears were glistening in his eyes, just as they were in hers, but it wasn’t enough to stop them, not anymore.
“But things changed, you changed, and sometimes you’d look at me and I’d wonder…I’d wonder if you felt it too. I see you blush whenever you catch me watching you and, merlin, the thing’s it does to me…the thoughts it puts in my head…but timing was always an issue. You were grieving your relationship, what was I supposed to do?”
He reached out his hand, and she took it.
“I was scared to lose this again, whatever it is that we have. I didn’t want to spill my guts and ruin it all, because I’ve already tried living without you, Hermione, and it’s fucking pointless. But then that night…it turned me inside out. Getting to touch you, kiss you, hold you the way I’d only dreamed of. I wanted to tell you everything that morning, but you left. You didn’t want anything to change between us, and I would have changed it in a heartbeat. So, I thought some time would help…”
“Did it?” she choked.
His returning look was agony. “Of course it didn’t.”
She nodded, eyes dropping to their interlocked palms, and suddenly nothing had ever seemed as simple, as easy, as what she said next. “I lied.”
His eye twitched. “What?”
“When I said I didn’t want anything to change, I lied.”
“Why?” His question was desperate, and he stepped closer again, bringing them chest to chest.
She smiled. “I think you know why.”
“Say it.”
“Because I was scared. Because I assumed. Because, Draco, I love you too. With every bone in my body.” She whispered the admission, and that cavity in her chest sealed tight. His head dropped, his shoulders heaved, and she twisted their joined hands so that his fingers rested on her pulse. “Can you feel that? It’s steady, isn’t it? This isn’t some adrenaline spike or a moment of madness, this is a relief. I love you.”
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Wreck a Malfoy by Ramelle_Kammae
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Dramione - Fandom
24 Aug 2025
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Summary
His hand came back. Fingers trailing slowly up her calf. A silent touch that felt less like control and more like praise. Like he was telling her - this is good. You’re good.
A shaky breath escaped her lips. Technically, she wasn’t even doing anything, right? This wasn’t sex. There was no skin-to-skin. No real touching.
Foot stuff didn’t count—did it?
Or... Hermione stumbles messily into something that feels a lot like love.
Series
- Part 1 of Wreck a Malfoy
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Summary
Rhaenyra Stone knows how the ballet world works. Perfection is key, rather it be on the stage, careful not to miss even the smallest of steps, or shoved into a booth with an abonnès who sees nothing wrong in digging their fingers into her skin. She’s known this since she was young, Mysaria had drilled it into her head enough, and in the sixteen years she’s been alive, no one has proven her wrong, not once. Being perfect is how she’s survived, even if all she sees herself as now is nothing more than just a doll for men to toss around. And she expects no different from the French ambassador who’s shown up at her door looking for what is owed to him. All he wants is a doll to play with, and that’s what she’ll be for him. Even if the lemon cakes that she’s always wanted start showing up fresh on her doorstep, or the ballet slippers she’s worn holes into are now suddenly replaced with a new pair from an elite store. She won’t delude herself into thinking she’s anything more than just a ballerina.
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Summary
What would you give to save the person you love?
Draco Malfoy has lived a charmed life, growing up in the manor with everything he could want at his fingertips - a perfect, pampered prince.
As a teenager, he comes to Hogwarts and looks down on everyone he meets. He is cruel, vicious - heartless.
As an adult, he is merciless- a cold blooded killer.
Ruthless, inhumane, feared by those around him.But when Draco is found dead after hanging himself from the rafters of a room in the Hog’s Head, with only a bag full of memory vials and his diaries left beside him - Hermione discovers more about Draco and who he really was.
That all he ever wanted to do was make people proud.
As she searches his memories, she slowly realises that he was never the person that he showed to the world.
He suffered so much in his short life.Draco’s memories tell a story of true, unending love and sacrifice and as she watches, Hermione needs to decide what she is willing to do to give Draco another chance at the life he truly deserves.
’I promise, I will make you proud.’