Draco Malfoy really hates Hermione Granger. Everything he gives two fucks about is entirely contingent on the decisions that she makes and she doesn't even know it. If he's not careful, she's going to fuck it up for the both of them and then they'll all wind up dead. He never thought his life would depend on having to get between her legs and into her head. _____________________________________________ "I should have known," he said, "It's always the good girls who like it rough. Do you like it rough, Granger? Be honest," he purred into her ear, his left hand rising to wrap itself around her throat as he continued to press his right hand up against her, "I really don't like liars." con•tin•gent: subject to chance; dependent on [all rights go to jkr yuck] [not appropriate for audiences under the age of 18]

- dramione -ongoing -mature content - contains themes that aren't permissible in non-fiction - OOC sh*t. Paradox par·a·dox /ˈperəˌdäks/ a situation, person, or thing that combines contradictory features or qualities. When the devil and an angel make too much sense. A story of a demon looking for solace, and an angel looking for chaos. A story of utter redemption, healing, sexual awakening, and paradoxical curses that blanket darkness to the first light Draco Malfoy has seen in years.

"Smoking is bad, you know." The placid voice speaks up from the distant dark corner, nothing to see but a tall silhouette and an orange glow of a cigarette cherry. "It's the least of my problems," I murmur with my own between my lips, proceeding to feel the stagnant debris valley my throat when I suck delicately. He exhales a chuckle of cynical amusement, his footsteps getting every step clearer to my eardrums until I eventually sense body heat burning my back. "And why is that?" He whispers over my shoulder, hands inviting themselves to grip the railing in front of me so I become a prisoner between his inked arms. I swallow. "Because you'll be the one to kill me first." // Aven Brooks is hired to take pictures for the world-renown punk rock band known today as Duplicity; hoping the experience gets her into her most elite-dreamed university. However, when her lenses accidentally capture more than just cheeky sound checks and performances, she comes to a horrifying discovery that Duplicity is anything but a band. Appalled and frightened, she's trapped. *HIGHEST RANKINGS* #1 IN HARRYSTYLES #1 IN ONEDIRECTION ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO @happydays1d NOT ALLOWING TRANSLATIONS! CONTAINS VULGAR LANGUAGE / DRUG ABUSE / SEXUAL CONTENT / DESCRIPTIVE VIOLENCE / MENTAL HEALTH READ AT OWN RISK!

the boy scratched at the skin on his wrist so hard it bled. he'd been doing it all summer. so much so that the skin on his left arm was nothing but scabs and irritated skin. it itched. it constantly fucking itched and it hurt. but the subtle pain was a decent daily distraction from his mind. and harry liked that. there's only so much dark magic a person can suffer before it leaves a mark. harry potter 8th year fanfic WARNING: 18+