Draco has a new pet 🤍
For Dramione Prompts on Twitter
Draco has a new pet 🤍
For Dramione Prompts on Twitter
I never actually thought about this but did religion not exist in the wizarding world? Because it was the ‘90s and you’re trying to tell me that the Dursleys, picture perfect suburban residents didn’t go to Sunday Church? That the conservative pureblood families didn’t practice any religion? A family as old as theirs didn’t worship any gods or held the Arthurian Legends like gospel? That Parvati and Padma Patil, just up and dropped their entire culture? Cho Chang just what had no culture either? Hermione’s parents didn’t practice Catholicism? That the nineties culture and religion aspect just doesn’t exist? The Weasley’s didn’t have a religion, or some faith? The Potters, the Blacks, every single witch or wizard, especially muggleborns.
It seems practically impossible, that in the nineties, there is not a whiff of any sort of religious practice. There are clearly hints that they existed such as when Harry was studying in POA about what are clearly witch hunts and trials which were born out of fear and toxic religious beliefs.
AND ITS THE NINETIES
So Christianity doesn’t exist in the HP verse huh
And on that note, are you also trying to tell me that the wizards didn’t have a culture themselves? No ancient traditions or rites, or druidic festivals? Because Christmas is literally called Yule. In GOF, the ball is called the Yule Ball. AND YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT NO ONE CELEBRATED DRUDIC HOLIDAYS?! WHEN MERLIN IS LITERALLY WORSHIPPED AS SOME KIND OF MORTAL GOD?!
I literally cannot believe that none of these festivals, especially Samhain aren’t celebrated. They don’t celebrate the end of the wars. The first three years of the class of ‘98 and the years after that, you’re telling me the wizarding world didn’t celebrate the day except for the first time? they didn’t try to get closure or contact the spirits of the dead? The most important pagan holiday and they don’t celebrate it?!
I refuse to believe that they don’t have holidays for the beginning/end of the Salem Witch Trials or any other witch trials including Uther Pendragon’s Great Purge.
Its like the world is completely bland of any culture and personality except for sparkly magic and dark and light side magic and the fucking prophecies with trashy media and government
honestly, tbh the world building is-
so many plotholes and loopholes gods
this got longer than i intended
Work had been a bitch so I had taken off for some time and I’m back!!
I’m getting on the requests at the moment, if you guys wanna send more in, I’ll be happy to write
I write for Marvel characters,Marvel Actors,Harry Potter Characters and Harry Potter actors!
I love you <333
Smutober/Kinktober- stripper reader (Hermione Granger x reader)
Warnings: stripper reader, female receiving/giving oral
A strip club is not Hermione’s first choice of place to go but her friends wanted to go to a strip club. “Male strip clubs are boring, let’s go to one with the girls” her friend says.
You’d noticed her straight away, your job was on the poles, you weren’t a dancer or a private dancer, mainly because you don’t want to get naked every night.
She stares directly at you, you smile, she looks away quickly. She seemed like your type exactly.
You go to your dressing room where the rest of the girls are. “Hey, talk to the girl sitting with two other girls, she’s got like brown curly hair. Tell her to meet me backstage” you explain to your friend who does dances.
Your friend dances over to the three girls, just as she’s about to move on she whispers to Hermione.
“That girl that was just front stage a couple songs ago on the poles, her name is Peach, go backstage and ask for Peach.” She smiles and walks away. “I think I’m going to go” “Already?” Her friend complains “Yeah, it was a great night, thanks.”
She walks towards the exit but goes to the bathroom, she fixes her hair and sneaks backstage where a bodyguard is. “Oh I’m here for Peach” the bodyguard walks her backstage to the dressing room, he knocks on the door and walks in.
“Some girl is here for Peach” he announces “I’ll be there in a minute, tell her to wait.” He closes the door “I’ll be back, if anyone asks I’m in the bathroom” “We got you” one girl says. You fix your makeup and hair and take off your massive shoes to not intimidate the girl.
I walk outside and she’s standing there alone looking quite nervous. “Hey, I’m Peach” I smile and she smiles “I’m Hermione” “Your name is so pretty, my actual name is y/n” “Nice to meet you.” “Let’s go somewhere a little more private, if you’re okay with that?” She nods.
You take her to a hallway full of rooms, bodyguards standing outside each of the doors. “Need some help?” a bodyguard asks “No thanks.” You take her to your favourite room, it’s cozy.
“Wow” she says walking in. Inside the room is a big couch big enough for anyone to lay on, there’s a dresser with rope and handcuffs.
“This is the best room in my opinion” “This is nice” she comments “It’s just us, don’t worry” “I Uh don’t have much money” she says and I smile. “You don’t have to pay anything, you don’t have to do anything either. I saw you and you’re gorgeous, you look like my type.”
“Really?” “Yes, I don’t like the regulars that come in, they’re confident and expect everything for free. You’re shy so cute and don’t look like you belong in here” “My friends brought me here.”
The conversation was chill and she seemed to warm up to you as it went along. “So do you bring people here a lot?” “Only once before, I’m not a private dancer but that’s what these rooms are for.”
“Can I kiss you or is that not allowed?” She asks “You can do whatever you want.” She leans in and kisses you, you get closer to her holding her waist.
She pulls away and takes off her top revealing her bra she pulls off her pants and kisses you again in her underwear. You move your hands to her inner thighs and slowly move them up to her pussy you lay them there. “You okay with this?” You ask “Yes, please.”
You slip your hand into her underwear and slowly rub her clit, she whimpers. “Can I take this off for you?” You ask she nods. You take off her bra then her underwear. “You have a very pretty body” she looks so delicate below you “Thank you, I’m sure you do too.” You take off the lingerie you’re wearing letting her see your body. “Uh Yeah, you’re hot” she says her cheeks heating up. You get back on the couch and spread her legs eating her out.
“Feels so good” she moans pulling on your hair. You flick your tongue on her clit, she gets so wet, it’s a combination of her wetness and your saliva.
You put a couple fingers inside her fingering her just right. She moans and cries out a couple times “Im close” she moans you suck on her clit applying a little pressure and pleasure.
“Oh shit” she throws her head back having an intense orgasm. You play with her breasts while she calms down “Thank you” she says breathlessly “Can I repay you?” “Please do, love” she gets to switching positions with you.
You spread your legs “Oh goodness, you really do have a beautiful pussy” “Thanks, your pussy is pretty too.” She licks a stripe up tasting you on her tongue, she goes back in to flick your clit with her tongue.
“Hermione” you moan “Oh it feels amazing.” She circles your clit with her tongue, she knows how to eat you out well. She uses her tongue to lick your clit and then sucks on it.
“Oh fuck me, you really know what you’re doing” you compliment her really close. “Keep doing whatever you’re doing I’m so close” you cry out and finish as she sucks your clit.
“Holy shit, you need to teach me how to do that” “I don’t know how I do it, it just happens” “Do you want to get out of here? My place isn’t too far” “Yes please.”
NEW CHAPTER UP!
THE DARK SIDE COLLECTION
Chapter 20: Make Me Your Villain
Tags: Possession, Horcrux, Voldemort returns
Malfoy’s voice cut through the noise, but it did little to quell the growing protests and celebrations happening around him. His eyes scanned through the entire court, roving through each and every one of their faces, before finally staring down the Chief Warlock.
“Make me your villain.”
Hermione’s gaze darted towards Malfoy’s unmoving figure, standing tall in the middle of the podium. What on earth was he trying to achieve by antagonizing them further? She watched him tilt his head back, eying the ceiling with a hooded gaze; long, unkempt platinum blonde locks spilling past his shoulders. She could see his mouth moving, but she could no longer hear him over the chaos.
She narrowed her eyes, focusing on the curve of his lips. Who won?
She raised a brow. Who was he talking–
Hermione found herself thrown back onto the hard stone wall before she could even finish that thought.
This was inspired by the Darkling's line from the Shadow and Bone series 😊 Drop by to check it out 🙏
Snape: Oh look, it’s Harry Potter and his friends
Ron and Hermione: Um? Hello, we’ve got names
Snape: which I can never remember
Whatever you do don't think about how proud James would have been of Harry for his Quidditch skills and for sticking up for his friends. Don't picture Lily taking Hermione under her wing and helping her fit into the wizarding world. Don't picture Remus being professor for longer than a year and being everyone's favourite. Don't picture Sirius being around for longer than two years of Harry's life. Just don't picture if they had lived and been happy. You'll cry.
Ginny after an argument with Ron: I hate you with every inch of my being
Ron: That's not a lot of inches
Harry and Hermione: *holding Ginny back from killing her brother*
SEXTING. DAY 𝐈𝐈 OF KINKTOBER!!
a/n; hello everyone!!! this is really short i apologize, ik i haven’t posted in a while, again i apologize!!! school’s been a lot lately but i’ve managed some time to make this!! this will be a part 𝐈 of 𝐈𝐈 (the second being punishment (which is the last day of kinktober!))
summary; hermione is in class and has really been missing you, as working on studying for the O.W.L.S she is well stressed. she just wants her girlfriend to take in out on.
content warning; smut ofc, degradation a lil, praise,
you knew the rules but fuck it’s been weeks since you’ve seen your girlfriend. you needed something to fulfill the ache between your legs—the constant weeping of your cunt when you thought about her.
her buttoned-up pink top—when she bent down just to tease you with just her soft boobs. to your surprise she let you touch them i mean it was your last day with her so she had to treat you right.
you still had sexts from that day so it wouldn’t do any harm if you perhaps stumbled upon them again. not many people stay for christmas break anyway. you reached your bare hand down your skirt and..
hermione: hey baby
y/n: hi <3
hermione: i’m really missing you in class rn
y/n: i rlly wish i was there mione
hermione: i don’t like being here knowing all the things i’d do to you. i’m feeling really tense rn i just cannot get this potion right
hermione: merlin i wish you were here to relieve some of my stress
hermione: fuck i cant focus
y/n: you know i can’t rlly say no to u
hermione: i wish you would. you’ve been so good lately
hermione: when was the last time you touched yourself, baby?
you really, really wanted to, but she was tempting your purposely. she wanted you to disobey her—because oh what she’d do to you then.
where are the stars tonight? read on ao3 | Summary: Hermione Granger wakes up one night in search of the stars.
‘Where are the stars tonight?’ Hermione asked herself one night, back flat against the small mattress in her bedroom. Her windows remain open, the floor length curtains billowing softly against the cool nighttime breeze. Off in the distance in this small muggle town, a dog begins to bark, howling longingly towards the distant moon and Hermione begins to wonder yet again, ‘Where are the stars tonight?’
Where are the galaxies that academics often spoke of like love sick fools, pining for an unreachable muse? Where are the distant planets, Venus, Jupiter, Mars, that would reflect against the silver moonlight, dressed and shining brightly as a dying star? Where are the embers of the flame that licked against the darkness of the night sky, the terrifying, indulgent, proof of our lonesome?
Where are the stars tonight?
Through the silence, Hermione Granger found herself dressing out of her night shirt, cocooned now under the warmth of a trusted old denim jacket that saw just as many terrors as she had once upon a time. The lonesome dogs continue to bark outside, and Hermione—quick and silent as a lamb—slipped past them without notice. A desperate call to the moon, the stars, in a language that was perhaps universally understood.
Where were the stars tonight, in this small muggle town where sleepy men and women rest their heads? There were the empty roads, covered in a light sheen of rainfall, with only the street lights as company—street lights, tall and proud and sturdy and reliable and yet not a single one could ever compare to even one star. Here, in the dim lighting, the static of a radio echoes off in the distance, omitting a lone signal that perhaps only Hermione was doomed to catch, over and over again, until it too would fade into nothingness.
Where were the stars, if not in the darkness of the night, the vastness of space, the emptiness of this sleepy part of the world? There, not a few blocks away, was movement, a light flourish, a spec of light, the familiar rush of magic. There, off in the distance, where the soft lilting echoes of voices seemed to grow, was the silhouette of three women in robes, laughing and carefree and enjoying the emptiness of the night. There, in this sleepy little muggle town, were witches Hermione would recognize anywhere, though she really ought not to.
Their steps slowed, and one of them halted, as if squinting off in the distance. A quiet murmur among themselves, a melody that stood out against the silence.
“Hermione?” one asked, voice soft, cautious, confused. Andromeda. There was an aching gentleness about her, a certain golden and genuine quality that most people spent a lifetime searching. Her eyes spoke true of the life she’s led, an openness to pain, to heartache, to wonder, to love, to light. In them, she held a quiet storm, and in her hands was the loving, tender caress of the warmth she sacrificed so much for. “What are you doing out here alone?”
Andromeda’s two sisters, Narcissa and Bellatrix, could not look more different from each other.
Bellatrix adorned herself in dark colors, black as night, potent as the abyss—to look her in the eyes felt like facing the endless abyss itself. She was a whirlwind of energy, of motion, of sheer will, of force. Anything in her path, she would consume, destroy, rebrand. She was the calamity that came after a storm and, like the changing waves of the thrashing sea, Bellatrix grinned, smug and sardonic and freely.
“You know, it isn’t very safe for young women to venture out here, all by their lonesome,” she told Hermione, playful and aware and teasing.
Hermione could barely keep a breathless chuckle at bay, shaking her head in fond reverence now, in a place where she would have easily drawn her wand had she been ten years younger.
Narcissa—unlike her sisters—was paler, so much so that against the dim-light she seemed to emanate a soft glow against the darkness. Her light blonde hair, the silver ornate barrette that held it in its place, and her pale blue eyes that seemed to carry an ocean of secrets, a chamber of well guarded emotions shown only to a most exclusive few. She was the calm before the storm. She was the cool, measured composure of a captain manning a crew at zero visibility. And yet, she offered Hermione a rare, heart achingly beautiful smile that made Hermione wonder if perhaps the reason why the stars in the sky were missing was because she’d only now found it, here on solid ground.
“Would you care to join us for a midnight stroll then, Hermione?” Narcissa offered with a polite tilt of her head, the barest hint of mischief in her charming pale blue eyes.
Hermione’s smile was one that held unbridled joy, of childlike amusement, of the anticipation of picking up a rare once in a lifetime tome, and she found herself laughing once again because—by chance, luck, or perhaps fate itself—on the night that she would search for the stars, she would happen upon the three that surprised her the most.
“Lead the way.”
Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 as well.
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The day had turned out beautiful. The sun was shining, there were very few clouds in the sky, and there was not a single drop of rain forecasted for the whole day. It was as if it had known and turned off its usual pattern of rain just for the special occasion.
Ron had woken that morning feeling positively sick to his stomach. He’d not been able to eat any of the breakfast that Harry had made, instead choosing to spend his time pacing the kitchen nervously or making sure everything they needed was ready to go.
They didn’t need much — everything was already at the place — but Ron still had the overwhelming feeling that he was going to forget something important.
“You definitely have the rings?” Ron asked as Harry spooned cereal into his mouth.
Harry grinned. “Didn’t I ask you the same thing only a few months ago?”
Ron glared at Harry — a warning not to be funny.
Harry sighed. “I have the rings, yeah. Hermione left them in my safe keeping a week ago. I haven’t let them out of my sight since.”
“You should really eat,” Harry said.
“And didn’t I say that to you?” Ron bit back. “And you still said no.”
Harry had given up after that, perhaps reminiscing his own feelings and realising it was no use in trying to get Ron to do anything on the morning of his wedding. It was just accepted, maybe, that nobody ate breakfast on the morning they were supposed to be getting married.
Molly dropped in early to check on them, then gave Ron a big hug and said he’d be just fine. Then George had come by, followed by Bill, and even Percy.
Around midday, Ginny popped in, which sent a fresh wave of panic through Ron. The wedding was at three, but she didn’t even have her hair done, her makeup done… he thought women were supposed to start all of that early.
“You can’t talk,” she said, nodding to his own outfit now hanging in the kitchen. “And nothing’s wrong, don’t stress. Hermione is getting her hair done and I just thought I could come to my house for a moment and see how things were going.”
“We’re doing great,” Harry said brightly, and he kissed the top of Ginny’s head.
“How’s Hermione?” Ron asked. “Is she…”
“Well, she’s a little nervous,” Ginny said. “But she’s not your level of stress. You need to relax.”
“Says you who yelled at me to get out of my own house,” Ron muttered.
“Well, take it from my personal experience — stressing is not worth it. It’s going to be fine.”
Ron thought back to the night before, and how he’d been feeling nervous while walking around the venue, but then he’d seen Hermione and the bad feelings had stopped and had changed to being really, really good ones. He wondered if that would be the case again.
“Maybe I should just go and see her. Make sure she’s —”
“She’ll murder you,” Ginny said. “And then there actually will be no wedding.”
“She calms me,” Ron argued.
“You’re not supposed to see each other before the wedding,” Ginny said. “It’s tradition, and it makes the moment you do see each other a lot more special.”
Ron sat down at the table. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t care about tradition. Nothing was traditional about them anyway. But one of the most pleasant thoughts he’d had all morning was seeing Hermione in the moment their ceremony was about to begin, and going home now would ruin the fantasy he’d built inside his head.
“Harry, for the love of Merlin, get some Firewhisky into him or something,” Ginny said.
“I tried,” Harry retorted. “He’s refused it all.”
Ginny looked between her husband and her brother and rolled her eyes. “Was this you on our wedding day?” she asked after a moment.
“I was worse,” Harry said. “Ron’s got it quite under control in comparison. He has only asked me if I have the rings twice.”
Ginny shook her head. “Well, I’m going back to a calmer environment. See you both at the wedding.”
She smiled at them and then left via the fireplace.
Ron let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding.
“Come on,” Harry said after a moment. “Let’s get dressed, and we’ll head to the place. Maybe seeing everything set up will help with the nerves. I know it did for me.”
By two o’clock — an hour before the wedding — Harry found Ron sitting on the ground outside the pub. He’d escaped the suffocating reception room half an hour before and had come out here for some fresh air… and contemplation.
But to Harry, it probably looked as if he’d run away.
“You okay?” Harry sat beside him, both of their backs against the brick wall. The only things around them were some overgrown shrubs and ants scuttling along the ground in front of them. Ron had been watching them with interest, jealous of the simplicity of their lives.
Ron nodded but said nothing. He wasn’t really sure what to say, because he had no idea what was going through his head. Until that morning, he’d thought that marrying Hermione would be the easiest thing he’d ever do. He’d been so happy, so excited about it. He’d asked her to marry him without an ounce of fear; he was comfortable around her, confident in himself. So, he had no idea why all of a sudden he felt so… afraid.
He loved her more than anything, and even now, as he sat on the ground at the side of their wedding venue, he still got a burst in his chest of love for her everytime the thought of her entered his mind. But with that love came a fear… a fear that he wasn’t good enough for her.
That’s what it was.
He suddenly felt very inadequate to be her husband, to be the person she spent the rest of her life with. Why him? Out of all the people in the world — including an international Quidditch star who had fancied her — why was it Ron who got to marry her?
It just seemed… odd.
He closed his eyes, then turned to Harry. When he opened them again, he saw a whole lot of understanding in his best friend’s expression. Like he knew what Ron was thinking.
“She loves you,” he said. “She really, really loves you. And you love her.”
Ron felt like his sixteen year old self again, the feeling of worthlessness washing over him with such power that his chest ached. Learning that she had kissed Krum, an international Quidditch star, and then comparing himself to Krum and realising that there was absolutely no way she would ever consider him if she had Krum vying for her affections.Then he felt like his eighteen year old self, and the locket, and seeing his fears come to life. How she didn’t want him or even think him worthy of her love. How Harry had seen him at his most vulnerable, seen his inner fears, and realised in that moment just how intense Ron’s feelings for her had become.
Ron looked at his friend, briefly wondering if he should express these concerns verbally. They’d come a long way in their ability to talk to one another about these, but… did he really want to reopen these memories when they had worked so hard to move on from that part of their lives?
He looked back down. He didn’t know where it had come from; why, after so many years of feeling comfortable in his own skin, he suddenly felt all of this again. Hermione had made him feel so many things, but all had been good. She’d made him feel worthy, loved, and most importantly, happy.
None of those feelings had changed overnight.
Just his old insecurities rearing their ugly heads.
“I know I keep saying this,” Harry said, “but I promise you, the moment you see her, all of these negative thoughts will disappear. Instantly. It’s like a switch.”
“I don’t understand why I’m feeling this all of a sudden,” Ron said. “Yesterday, I was so excited to marry her. But now…”
“It’s a massive commitment to make to one person,” Harry said. “And it doesn’t fully hit you until it’s a reality. It’s one thing being in a relationship with one another, owning a house together, behaving like you’ve been married for years…” He smirked at that. “But to make it legal, to sign a contract that says ‘I’m going to love this person forever’ is really daunting. No matter how in love you are, no matter how long you’ve been together for…”
Ron looked down at his hands. They were shaking slightly — they had been since he’d been sitting there.
He knew Harry’s words were true, but it didn’t make it any easier. Deep down he knew that he would be happy to spend the rest of his life with Hermione. It would make him the happiest person on Earth to do it. But at the same time, the idea terrified him.
“Look at it this way,” Harry continued. “You signed a house contract together. You have a bank account together. You’ve talked about having children together. All things a lot of people do after they’re married. This is just the final step in this part of your lives. I know you don’t see yourself with anyone else. I know how you feel about her. I know how she feels about you.”
“I love her so much,” Ron said. “And that’s why it’s so hard right now. I almost feel that no one is good enough for her, including me. Like I’m going to mess it up somehow.” He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes.
“She doesn’t see it like that.”
“You’ve spoken to her?” Ron asked.
“Not today, but a lot,” Harry said. “On those days where you and I have different shifts. Sometimes we have our lunch break together. You forget that she’s my best friend, too. You’re perfectly good enough for her. And she’s good enough for you. You’re perfect together.”
Ron opened his eyes again and looked at Harry once more. He and Harry had not had a conversation like this before. Years of friendship, Harry was married to Ron’s sister, and their discussions about romance had only ever touched a superficial surface. It was almost an unspoken agreement that neither of them were to go into anything deeper at risk of turning their friendship uncomfortable.
But… it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It was just… the truth.
“You are both going to be so happy together,” Harry continued. “I know you are. You love each other so much, and today is just a celebration of that love. Nothing more, nothing less.”
They sat together in silence for a long time. At least fifteen minutes must have passed, which meant that there was now less than an hour until he saw Hermione.
Eventually, Ron said, “Thanks.”
“What are best men for?”
“I think I got the very best.”
“You feeling a little better now?”
Ron nodded, and slowly, he got to his feet. He’d been sitting in the dirt, which meant his trousers were filthy. But that was nothing a simple cleaning spell couldn’t fix. He took out his wand, and immediately all of the dirt fell off, leaving his suit looking as clean and as smooth as it had before he’d put it on.
Harry glanced down at his wristwatch. “We have about forty minutes to go. Some people might be starting to arrive.”
The last thing Ron wanted to do was to speak to people, but the alternative was spending that time clock-watching, which was worse. “Let’s go,” he said, and they walked back round to the garden side of the pub where there were seats, a beautifully decorated archway, and a few people already starting to mingle.
Ron spotted his parents first, Molly already hurrying over to them.
“Oh, look at you two!” she gushed, smoothing down Ron’s suit that really didn’t need it. “So handsome. How are you feeling, Ron?”
“I’m good,” Ron said, nodding and letting out another breath.
“You look terrified,” Molly said, though she smiled. “Perfectly normal.”
“Thanks, Mum,” Ron scowled, and he stepped away from her.
Luna was also there, sitting on one of the seats and staring dreamily at something no one else could see.
To Ron’s surprise, he smiled, watching her. Many things had changed over the years, but Luna had not. She was just as dreamy, just as vague, as she always had been. And somehow that brought comfort to Ron.
“Hi, Luna,” he said, approaching her.
“Oh, hi, Ron,” she replied, smiling up at him. “Hi, Harry.”
“It’s a beautiful place,” Luna continued. “I really like the flowers over there. Who picked them?”
“They’re so lovely.”
Ron was half expecting her to give him some weird theory about what they meant at a wedding, but she said nothing more, returning to stare at them.
Harry clapped Ron on the back and guided him towards the arch.
“Not so bad, is it?”
“It’s alright,” Ron said. He was feeling a little calmer now. Harry’s words and seeing Luna definitely helped.
His palms were sweating, though, but he didn’t want to wipe them on his suit. He’d ruin it.
Over the next little bit, people began to arrive in thin streams. They hadn’t invited a huge number of people, but as the time drew closer to three o’clock, Ron spotted his friends, Seamus and Dean, Neville, along with some unfamiliar faces, too. Hermione hadn’t introduced him to the few family members she’d invited to the wedding apart from her parents. Apparently an uncle of hers — her mother’s brother — was coming with two of his three adult children and one grandchild, and her grandmother (her father’s mother). They were the only ones who knew about magic, so she thought it safe to invite them.
Ron almost felt the need to go over and introduce himself to them when he saw a little old lady with a walking stick hobble over to the front near Hermione’s dad.
But what would he say? ‘Hi, I’m the person your granddaughter is marrying. Nice to meet you… right before I marry her.’
He’d let Hermione do the introductions at the reception.
Though, he couldn’t help but catch the eye of her grandmother; but the woman didn’t seem to know which one Hermione was to be marrying, for her eyes flicked between Ron and Harry, before turning to Robert.
A moment later, Robert pointed to Ron, gave a small smile, and her grandmother seemed satisfied by the response. She flashed Ron a smile, to which he returned, albeit a little uncomfortably.
A moment later, George, who’d been acting as usher along with Bill, came up to them. “Just had word that the girls are here.”
“What?” Ron said. “But… it’s not time!” He felt as if he needed a few more minutes to gather himself. The distraction of watching the guests had worked, but perhaps a little too well. Time had slipped away from him.
“Five minutes,” Harry said. “You okay?”
“No,” Ron said, and he peered nervously down the aisle. It had been laid with rose petals, one of the few things that Ron had been able to contribute to for the setup. He knew nothing about anything else — Ron was good at the romantic gestures, Hermione was good at the decorations. They were a perfect team.
Harry patted Ron’s back, and although he didn’t say anything, the fact that Harry left his hand there really meant a lot to Ron. It was nice to know that Harry had his back — literally — during the most terrifying and exciting moment of his life.
George had returned to the back with Bill, the pair hurrying in the last guests. There was no seating room left, so everyone else was standing.
Ron threw a quick glance over to his parents, who’d done their best to dress the part for a wedding in a Muggle place. He wasn’t sure they’d quite managed it, his father wearing mismatched pieces of a suit, and his mother in… jeans and a really fancy top, but they didn’t stick out too much.
Molly offered him a tearful smile, grinning proudly. He returned it with a nervous smile of his own.
A moment later, music began to play, and Ron felt Harry move his hand to Ron’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly. Did Harry feel how tense Ron was? Could he feel Ron trembling slightly?
Perhaps he could, for his hold tightened even more and he leaned forward and said, “You’ve got this.”
Ron nodded, swallowing a hard lump that had formed in his throat. His palms were dripping with sweat now, so he clasped them together in an attempt to hide it.
The music had been playing for a few moments when Ron caught sight of a long, pale purple dress appearing from around the corner.
His sister, Ron thought, looked stunning. Her hair was pulled back in a tight updo, and she had a layer of makeup on that even from a distance, really accentuated her features. Ron cast a sideways glance to Harry, who was grinning like an idiot at his wife as she began to make her way down the aisle, a bunch of flowers clasped in her hands.
It was essentially deja vu from their wedding last year, with role reversals.
Ron couldn’t help but smile despite his nerves.
Ginny was halfway towards them when Ron’s breath caught in his throat.
All eyes were off Ginny now, turned to Hermione who’d appeared from the exact same place Ginny had a moment ago.
Ron only had to take one look at her, and he had no idea why, because he’d not anticipated this at all, but his vision suddenly became cloudy.
Tears had filled his eyes upon seeing her, and he couldn’t explain it. It had just happened.
She was beautiful. Not just because she was done up in the most elegant white gown he’d ever seen anyone wear, lace finishing off the ends, or that she’d tamed her hair and it was pulled back in a half-do, curls falling around her face, but because she was Hermione, and she was there, and she was going to marry him.
Harry had been right — his nerves had gone entirely the moment he laid eyes on her — but those eyes were now filled with tears, and his body was trembling from it. Harry turned to him, noticing the tears, and he embraced him.
Ron could no longer see Hermione as Harry held onto him, a comforting embrace. He felt so ridiculous, but he couldn’t control them from rolling down his cheeks and dripping onto Harry’s clothes.
She was here.
A moment later, he felt a hand slip into his, and he pulled away, thinking it was Hermione.
It was Ginny. She was smiling at him. “She looks amazing, doesn’t she?” she said, and she gave his hand a squeeze. “Cry baby,” she added, muttering it under her breath.
He must have looked a sight to everyone watching them. Tears rolling down Ron’s face, Harry and Ginny both holding on to him tightly.
But they were all watching Hermione now. She was so close, he could just about reach her. And he did, the moment he had the chance. He shook off Harry, and let go of Ginny’s hand, and reached out his own to take Hermione’s.
She, too, had tears in her eyes as he pulled her the rest of the way towards the altar.
“This blubbering mess is about to be your problem for life,” Ginny said, stepping forward to take Hermione’s bouquet. “Are you sure you want to continue?”
But Hermione only smiled at Ron. “Why are you crying?” she all but laughed.
“I don’t know,” Ron said, wiping away the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. “I saw you… you look amazing.” He was holding both of her hands now and she squeezed them. He did the same.
His heart was pounding in his chest so hard he thought it might jump out. The tears had stopped now, and all he felt was pure, unconditional love for the person standing in front of him.
He smiled at her, the sound of the music, the whispers, everything else, drowned out. It was just the two of them. He didn’t care about anyone else in that moment.
Then, a voice interrupted the peaceful moment, and Ron startled, turning to the man they’d picked to marry them. He was a wizard, but he was apt in the Muggle marriage ceremonies too, and that would be what he would perform. It was accepted well enough in the wizarding world.
Ron didn’t care. He just wanted to be married to her — wizard or Muggle. It made no difference to him.
“Beloved guests,” the man began, “may I welcome you to the wedding of Ronald Bilius Weasley and Hermione Jean Granger on this fine, sunny day.”
Ron beamed at Hermione, and she returned it. She looked so happy. And so beautiful. She was so, so beautiful.
The wizard went through all the legal rambling of a marriage ceremony, stuff that he had to say to make it law, but stuff that no one was ever interested in.
It went for a while, and the whole time he spoke, Ron just looked at Hermione. She’d been very secretive about any of her plans for this part of the wedding. She’d given nothing away about her dress, or her hair, or her shoes even. Ron had asked, but apparently it was bad luck or something.
Ron wasn’t sure he believed that, but he was now glad she had refused him, because the shock at seeing her had quite literally brought him to tears (something he was sure he’d feel horribly embarrassed about in the future).
She was so pretty. He just wanted to kiss her.
“Ron, are you ready to read the vows you’ve written?”
Ron turned to the wizard, then looked at Hermione, feeling a slight wave of panic wash over him. No, he wasn’t. He still couldn’t remember any of what he was supposed to say. Harry had been wrong about that. He’d seen her and his mind had gone more blank than ever, the only words coming to him being you’re so beautiful and I love you so much. He wasn’t sure they’d cut it.
But she was smiling up at him, and he did just love her so much.
He laughed. “I have absolutely no idea what to say.” He could almost sense Ginny rolling her eyes from somewhere behind him.
A few of the guests chuckled.
He stared into her eyes, which had glistened over with tears again. His own were kept at bay… for the moment. Then, “Just that I love you, and I’ll always love you, no matter what.” As he spoke the words, he felt something in his coat pocket. He’d almost forgotten about it, having slipped it in there a few days earlier, thinking he might need it on the day. He didn’t know why — it had just felt right to put it there.
Now, at the time where he was almost rendered speechless, he was alerted to its pressure against his chest. He dug into the pocket and extracted the Deluminator he’d been given by Dumbledore — something that had proven itself incredibly useful to him when he’d needed it most, but also something he’d not really thought too much about over the last few years since.
Hermione looked at it curiously, as did — Ron assumed — everyone else. To them, it would have looked like a plain old cigarette lighter.
“And just that every day since this moment,” he placed the Deluminator in her hands, “you have continuously been that light to touch my heart. Every single day.” He closed her hands around the Deluminator and smiled into her tearful face. “I don’t need it anymore. I have you.”
For a moment, Hermione looked at the object in her hands. She seemed to grasp the meaning of it, because a moment after that, tears rolled down her cheeks, and she looked over Ron’s shoulder to Ginny. Ginny came forward to take it, looking extremely confused by the whole thing. But she said nothing, returning to her place beside Harry.
Then it was Hermione’s turn to speak, but the tears seemed to be preventing her. She kept wiping them away, but more kept coming.
“I should have gone first,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes for the third time.
“No,” Ron told her, grinning. “You saw me before. I’d be a mess.”
She laughed at that, turning her back to the guests in an attempt to regather herself. Ron rubbed her back, which he realised now was bare.
Eventually, she turned back to face Ron, smiling again. Though more tears still threatened to fall, she seemed to have them under control.
“Now I’ve completely forgotten what I was supposed to say.”
Ron’s grin widened.
She sniffed again. “Oh God, I don’t even know. You sometimes have this effect on me — lost for words. Just seeing you today, now, and the sheer happiness I feel being here, doing this with you, makes all the other things — the harder things — worth it. All the long days at work, the days where we hardly see each other, makes the times we do have together so, so special.” She paused, and Ron rubbed her arm comfortingly.
“I’ve loved you for such a long time, and this is what I want, what I’ve always wanted. You. Us. All of it. I just… love you. I love you so much.”
When she said nothing more, Ron presumed she was done. He stared at her for a moment, his hand still on her arm.
It was the wizard who broke them away again, claiming they needed to do the rings — Ron had almost forgotten about that.
Ron couldn’t quite explain the feeling of everything in that moment. For so long, he’d anticipated this, imagined it in his head, gone over it a thousand times. He’d even dreamt of it at times, especially as the actual day had drawn nearer, wondering if he’d forgotten something.
Things had not gone as he’d imagined. For one, he’d not expected to cry when he saw her, or that he’d forget everything he was supposed to say to her — that he wanted to say.
But he had hoped that he’d feel as happy as he did in that moment, as overwhelmed with love for her, as he felt. She was his world — everything he wanted and loved. And now she was also his wife.
“Can I kiss you now?” he asked.
“Yes,” Hermione replied, her voice weak and laced with emotion. “Kiss me.”
Ron didn’t hold back. He gathered her against him, wrapping his arms around her whole body, and kissed her. It was once again just the two of them. No one else mattered — no one else in the world mattered in that moment.
“We did it,” Hermione said, breaking away.
“I’m so happy,” Ron said.
“Me too.” She smiled up at him, running her hand along the side of his face.
He kissed her again, this time more gently. “You’re stuck with me forever now,” he told her.
Ron took her hand in his and turned back to face the front. He could see his mother sobbing into a handkerchief, which was nothing unusual — she’d cried at all of her children’s weddings — and Seamus and Dean and Neville all grinning. Luna was watching them with a smile on her face, and even Hermione’s parents were beaming at their daughter.
He squeezed her hand tightly and smiled at her. They really had done it. They were married. And he’d not felt this happy since… ever.
*October 22: Bond of Flesh
Story by: @hexmionegranger (ao3)
Story name: Don’t Take This Sinner
Hermione Granger couldn’t help but think that no matter how difficult they had all figured rebuilding their society would be, no one was expecting anything quite like this. It was another stark reminder that just when things were finally starting to level out, they would never truly have peace and stability. Her entire life in the magical world had been full of shocks and stumbles, and this one seemed like the biggest of them all.
ғʀᴇᴍɪᴏɴᴇ | ᴀᴜᴛᴜᴍɴ
"Let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure."
I promise I haven’t forgot this fic! Draco and Hermione have been difficult since they got on semi talking terms.
Read on Ao3 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/33215908/chapters/86298739 Fandom - Harry Potter Ship - Dramione
Her entire body is shaking now. From adrenaline, from fear, from the realization that the life she’s led has all been a lie.
“Hermione, is everything alright up there, dear?” Mother Trixie’s words echo throughout the tower, but Hermione doesn’t respond.
“Hermione? Answer me, please. What’s going on up there?”
Upon the second inquiry, Hermione finds herself getting to her feet and walking toward the door to the staircase. She stops in the doorway to glance up at Mother Trixie, who is halfway up the stairs.
“Are you alright?” Mother Trixie asks upon seeing a disheveled Hermione.
“I’m the Missing Muggleborn,” Hermione mumbles, her words barely audible as she continues to process the information.
“Ugh, speak up Hermione. You know how I hate the mumbling.” Mother Trixie’s tone flips a switch from concern to annoyance in mere seconds.
Hermione looks up, this time speaking with more fervor. “I am the Missing Muggleborn, aren’t I?”
She stands up straighter, courage sweeping over her at Mother Trixie’s shocked expression. Catching her in the act of lying spurs Hermione further as she retorts, “Did I mumble that time, Mother? Or should I even call you that?”
It's getting real! Read the rest on AO3