Post HBP. Ron and Harry are Horcrux hunting and Hermione has been left at Hogwarts to help the Order make it safe for the other students. Draco is forced by Snape to stay in Hogwarts for his own protection, but he can't leave the room he is given; Granger's room. Hermione is the only student trusted with this information, so her and Malfoy share the small space, and Draco tries to avoid insanity as he becomes increasingly isolated with only the Mudblood for company. Something's going to give... Mature content and themes, and explicit language. ✨Feel free to comment✨ ❗Disclaimer: I do not own Isolation❗ The author of this incredible fan fiction is Bex-Chan. All credits go to J.K. Rowling for writing the Harry Potter series and Bex-Chan for writing this Fanfic based off the characters in said series. Here is a link to the original: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/6291747/1/Isolation

Malfoy's handsome face was contoured into a condescending smirk. "No faith in that giant brain of yours, Granger?" She looked up at him defiantly. "Maybe I don't have any faith in you!" she said, raising her voice. Malfoy only looked at her. You'll find I'm very surprising. Dramione AU, canon divergence, year 6 with a slow burn and a killer twist. Book I of "This World or Any Other" Series. COMPLETE. [Cross-posting of all stories currently in progress from FFN and AO3.]

Two dead. Three missing. The Order is down a leader and another innocent takes the Mark. Where is the Chosen One, and who killed Draco Malfoy? Dramione, sequel to "Clean," book II in "This World or Any Other" series. HEA. COMPLETE. [Cross-posting of all stories currently in progress from FFN and AO3.]

How did it feel? It felt like he was barely holding it together. She, of all people, should shun him. Or yell at him. Curse him. Spit at him. Take out her wand and blast him off the face of the earth. It was crushing guilt and relief and confusion all at once when he looked at Hermione Granger. The monotony of Draco's daily routine had become both a lifeline and a noose. But this new habit of grabbing morning coffee with Hermione Granger is quickly becoming a reason to get out of bed and is unfortunately forcing him to re-evaluate his inconsequential existence. Hermione is living her life in fragments, separate pieces scattered about, and she can't find a way to step back and let the full picture form. Why is morning coffee with Draco Malfoy the only thing that makes sense anymore? *cover art created by @eternallyreadinggoodthings

Hermione felt the pounding in her ears again. She would see him for the first time since the Great Hall, gaunt and stricken at the Slytherin table with his mother clutching his arm. She hadn't meant to look for him. Not in the corridors, not beneath the white sheets of the fallen, not on the way to the Chamber of Secrets with Ron, but she was a stupid girl.

Hermione Granger, Gryffindor's Good Girl, Head Girl, Cleverest Witch of her Age, Nice to even the lowest of the low, Charity starter, Best Friend, Savior of the World, Best Auror in the making...Wanted for MURDER. Now, how does that even make sense? Draco wants to know...don't you?

Both running from failing relationships, Draco and Hermione's paths cross in the most unexpected of places and after a small accident occurs, they both realise how much time has changed them. Leaving their pasts behind them, they embark on a new journey together but with many other obstacles standing in their way, will they ever get a chance to be the new people they so desperately want to be?

It is the start of their Seventh Year, the Dark Lord is dead, and the only commotion the Golden Trio expects is to have boring, mundane lives from here on out. The Ministry of Magic has other plans. Enter Marriage Law and Dramione.

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]