"If you weren't so important to The Dark Lord, I'd kill you right now" "If I still had my wand, you'd be dead already" Nine years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the war rages on. Voldemort is triumphant, but The Order continue to fight. Whilst on a rescue mission, Hermione Granger is captured and taken to The Dark Lord. When he cannot uncover her memories, or any secrets he can use to stamp The Order out once and for all, she's given to the most skilled Legillimens within his army.

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