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

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]

She wanders across him one night, not realizing that their chance encounter in a Hogwarts corridor will save both of their lives. A post-war Dramione fic about healing, friendship, second chances, and love. [Now complete!] [cover is the wonderful upthehillart who you should DEFINITELY follow on tumblr/insta because her HP art is everything]