The war grinds on, and Hermione Granger, lead intelligence for the Order of the Pheonix, is captured. Unable to crack her through interrogation without risking her mind, Voldemort conceives a cruel method of breaking her that involves a reluctant Draco Malfoy. "He stared at her in disgust. She looked-broken. The fire she'd still had when she was dragged in was now extinguished. Her eyes were locked on his face like she was memorizing him. "Stop staring at me." He snarled. "You stupid bint. You're supposed to be so clever. They can't break you with torture but a fucking potion reduces you to a sniveling traitor."

Hermione is determined to give meaningful Christmas gifts to everyone in her Ministry department. Everyone. Even that anti-social arse Malfoy. DHr Advent 2019

The Library of Alexandria is not for just any witch or wizard. Many bookworms may try but few are permitted to pass through its doors. The books residing there are ancient and powerful and, if one happens to make a mistake, the consequences can be rather-novel.

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