I never thought that i would love a Dreomione fic but here i am. It was so good.
I'll definitely read more about them.
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“What about you, Malfoy? Would you like to be friends? On the condition you won’t get me kicked out of the library again.”
She’d seen him sneer, watched him smirk and even snivel once or twice. But never this, this look of absolute gob smacked shock married to—Merlin, was that hope?
“Yes,” he croaked. “I’d like that.”
“Okay. So you didn’t enjoy Romeo and Juliet—”
“I didn’t not enjoy it, I loathed it with the fiery intensity of a million blazing suns,” Malfoy said, a stupid, gloating grin on his face.
“I didn’t want to think about it. Theo helped me forget.” She blushed. It didn’t require experience to know exactly what he meant. “That sounds”—she swallowed over the blossoming lump in her throat—“ romantic.”
Draco dropped his chin and chuckled down at the table before glancing up at her through his fair lashes. “It was a rough shag atop the carpet. But sure, Granger, it was romantic.”
“We don’t bite.” He tipped his chin, bringing their faces closer. “Not unless you ask for it.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, his lids falling to half-mast as if he was thinking about it, too. “I like it. My name on your tongue.”
“Fine, Theo’s intervention might’ve been necessary, I’ll grant you that. But let me be perfectly clear about one element of my plan I refuse to budge on.” His scowl softened as he eyed her from beneath his lashes. “I still intend to woo you before bedding you, Granger.” “Woo me?” A chortle much too loud for the library slipped out. When Draco glared, she sobered. “Wait, you’re serious?” “Quite. I’m going to romance you, and only after I feel you’ve been sufficiently wooed, do I intend to romance the pants off you, literally.”
Theo arched a brow. “The truth, perhaps?” “Which is?” she asked, voice peaking, fraying. “Am I your girlfriend?” She wasn’t trying to be juvenile about it, but she’d only ever been in one relationship and it had been a half-arsed one at that. She wasn’t exactly sure how this was supposed to go. “I don’t really care what you call yourself, Hermione,” he said. “As long as it’s ours.”
“My son has been rather taken by you for quite some time, Miss Granger.” Draco’s answering groan was accompanied by a snicker from Theo. She swallowed thickly, careful not spittle tea across the table this time. “I’m aware. Though I wasn’t aware that you were.” “Oh, yes.” Narcissa nodded. She cleared her throat gently. “That Granger girl received higher marks than me, Mother. Granger’s quite skilled in potions, Mother. Mother, would you believe I saw Granger reading my favorite book the other day? Granger looked quite fetching at the Yule Ball, Mother. Granger this and Granger that. Quite taken, indeed.”
“Hey, Granger?” She hummed softly. “Don’t hex me, okay?” Her brow furrowed. “Why?”
“I love you.”
She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Is that the reason you’re worried I’d hex you or the reason why I shouldn’t?” He laughed, breathless, eyes roving over her face rapidly, so obviously trying to read her. “Both, I think.” “Draco?” He swallowed. “Yes?” She smiled. “I love you, too.”
Narcissa took a sip of wine and set her glass aside. “I’m afraid, Hermione, it seems that you have your hands quite full with these two.” Theo waggled his brows. And of course Narcissa noticed. “Theodore, what did I say about innuendos at the dinner table?” “Make them good or don’t make them at all?” Theo bit his lower lip and smiled angelically.
“I don’t judge you,” she promised. “I love you. All of you, even the parts of yourselves you don’t like very much.”
“You’re ambitious, and you’re resourceful, and you have an appreciation for the finer things in life.” He scoffed. “Lovely. I’m a refined areshole? A prat with good taste?”