// Post-Hogwarts Friends to Lovers Dramione
It happens outside of Courtroom Nine as they wait for the Wizengamot to rule on Lupin’s Law.
She has spent months preparing—they both have.
It all comes down to these fleeting moments, to the votes of stodgy old witches and wizards.
It happens outside of Courtroom Nine as they wait for the Wizengamot to rule on Lupin’s Law.
She has spent months preparing—they both have.
It all comes down to these fleeting moments, to the votes of stodgy old witches and wizards.
Although she never would have expected Draco Malfoy to be her greatest ally in the fight for werewolf rights, Hermione has to admit that his help has been invaluable.
She couldn’t have gotten as far as she has, couldn’t have done any of this without him.
She couldn’t have gotten as far as she has, couldn’t have done any of this without him.
From the countless revisions to the proposal to knowing which members of the Wizengamot were the best to approach, he has dedicated his time and resources to helping her navigate the wizarding parliament. She will forever be indebted to him for this, for standing by her side.
Hermione knows that his insistence in assisting her has caused a rift between Draco and his father. He is ostracized from his larger social circle, too, even if his closest friends have stuck by him. His participation in her passion project has cost him. Still, he persisted.
Now Draco sits beside her, her anchor in the maelstrom of emotions that threaten to drown her. Of course, her friends are there as well.
Everyone knows how important this is to her.
Harry came, along with Theo.
Ginny and Astoria wait hand-in-hand.
Everyone knows how important this is to her.
Harry came, along with Theo.
Ginny and Astoria wait hand-in-hand.
Neville leans against the wall, arm securely around Pansy’s shoulders, next to Blaise and Luna. Ron wanted to come, too, but the hearing happened to fall on the week of the full moon.
Thus, he and Lavender had to skip.
It’s fine, though. Maybe better, even.
Thus, he and Lavender had to skip.
It’s fine, though. Maybe better, even.
Hermione doesn’t know how she would have endured facing Lavender if outcome was unfavorable.
And she has more than enough support.
Still, her nerves are fraught—her stomach is twisted in a knot, her skin is on fire, and it feels as if there’s a giant sitting on her chest.
And she has more than enough support.
Still, her nerves are fraught—her stomach is twisted in a knot, her skin is on fire, and it feels as if there’s a giant sitting on her chest.
She’s so nervous, in fact, that she doesn’t realize her leg is bouncing, not until Draco lays his hand on her knee. His fingers wrap around the joint, palm spanning the lower part of her thigh. His hold makes her feel safe—protected.
“It’ll be fine,” he says.
“It’ll be fine,” he says.
His voice is soft, for only her to hear.
“What if—”
“It’ll be fine,” he says again, fingers tightening around her knee. “You’ve got this.”
He looks her then, grey eyes holding her gaze as the corner of his mouth quirks into a smile.
“You did so well,” he continues.
“What if—”
“It’ll be fine,” he says again, fingers tightening around her knee. “You’ve got this.”
He looks her then, grey eyes holding her gaze as the corner of his mouth quirks into a smile.
“You did so well,” he continues.
Warmth floods her chest.
“You made the arguments just like we practiced. You answered all their inane questions beautifully. They’ll be mad not to pass it.”
“You’re just saying that,” she huffs.
“Would I lie to you?” he asks evenly.
A pause.
She knows he wouldn’t.
“You made the arguments just like we practiced. You answered all their inane questions beautifully. They’ll be mad not to pass it.”
“You’re just saying that,” she huffs.
“Would I lie to you?” he asks evenly.
A pause.
She knows he wouldn’t.
He’s been incredibly honest throughout this process, giving feedback in the most constructive way even when it hurts to hear.
“Well?” he asks, fingers squeezing again.
“No, you wouldn’t,” she murmurs.
“No, I wouldn’t,” he agrees. “So if I say it’ll be fine?”
“Well?” he asks, fingers squeezing again.
“No, you wouldn’t,” she murmurs.
“No, I wouldn’t,” he agrees. “So if I say it’ll be fine?”
“Then it’ll be fine.”
“There’s my girl.”
Her stomach twists again, though in a completely different way. Hermione hates the effect he has on her. She shouldn’t feel this way about a friend.
She’s lucky enough that they’ve made it to this point, after their difficult past.
“There’s my girl.”
Her stomach twists again, though in a completely different way. Hermione hates the effect he has on her. She shouldn’t feel this way about a friend.
She’s lucky enough that they’ve made it to this point, after their difficult past.
It’s too much to hope for more.
Draco would never see her as anything other than a friend. He’s rich, handsome, intelligent, and kind. The last is a newer development, but a notable nonetheless. He’s truly the perfect man, one who could have any woman he wanted.
Draco would never see her as anything other than a friend. He’s rich, handsome, intelligent, and kind. The last is a newer development, but a notable nonetheless. He’s truly the perfect man, one who could have any woman he wanted.
Before Hermione can spiral any further into the hopeless situation she finds herself in—one in which she’s pining over an unattainable wizard—the door to the courtroom opens and she’s ushered back in for the verdict.
A few short minutes later, she exits.
A few short minutes later, she exits.
The smile on her face tells it all. Yet, as her cheering friends swarm her, she only has eyes for one person. Draco allows the others to congratulate her before he sweeps her into his arms, spinning her round in a circle as she clings to his shoulders and laughs.
The world falls away when he comes to a stop.
Only then does Hermione realize how warm his hands are against her waist and hip, or the fact that her fingers are framing his face.
“Would you hex me,” Draco asks, “if I said I wanted you to kiss me?”
Only then does Hermione realize how warm his hands are against her waist and hip, or the fact that her fingers are framing his face.
“Would you hex me,” Draco asks, “if I said I wanted you to kiss me?”
The gravel in his voice sends a jolt of desire racing up her spine, arousal pooling in her knickers.
“You want me to kiss you?”
She won’t fault herself for her idiotic response. She’s just thankful that her tongue still works.
“As of a few minutes ago, I want nothing more.”
“You want me to kiss you?”
She won’t fault herself for her idiotic response. She’s just thankful that her tongue still works.
“As of a few minutes ago, I want nothing more.”
“A few minutes ago?”
Apparently all she can do is repeat his questions.
“When your bill passed. That was what I wanted more than anything…for you to succeed.”
“It’s our bill,” she says, smiling. “And our success.”
Then, leaning in, Hermione slots her lips to his.
Apparently all she can do is repeat his questions.
“When your bill passed. That was what I wanted more than anything…for you to succeed.”
“It’s our bill,” she says, smiling. “And our success.”
Then, leaning in, Hermione slots her lips to his.
-END-
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