MUDBLOOD & PROUD.

DIRECTORY . 

𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 . 

𝐝𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫 .

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 .

𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 - 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐨 .

WHERE TO FIND ME .

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐦 :@tricktress / @darephi​​ / @serpentlike​​ / @starsbore / @wistcrias​  

𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 :  https://www.pinterest.com/wistcrias/boards/

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝: ask for it! 

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poison chosen indeed.  though her intellect may be unmatchable, he’d like to think he’s a close second – a thought only further seen a fact as he notes her feigned indifference to his admission of perusing muggle literature during his downtime.  draco tilts his head at her in assessment, wondering if there’s a little bit more snake wrapped around her lungs these days, waiting to use that particular barb at a later date, or if she’s just doing him a simple kindness.  suppose he’ll have to wait and see how this conversation pans out, won’t he?  even if her stiff shoulders look more like a passing joke than a threat.

if she’d intended to join him on the seat before, it’s certainly no longer an option now.  not as he lays back in a full body stretch upon it, arms cushioned behind his head, watching her with a languid stare and a trademark smirk.  yes, as ugly as it is to admit it to himself, he definitely missed this war of words; missed having someone to shoot at that could give just as good as they got.

draco wonders if anyone will ever realise it’s a core part of his personality – other than his mother, of course.  he’d decided long ago that life was too greyscale without injecting a little bit of colour into every conversation.  the best way to learn a person is to poke at their buttons, to figure out what makes them explode.  ron had been embarrassingly easy to learn that way.  harry… he took a little bit more time.  but hermione?  she seems to catch him at almost every turn.  it’s refreshingly different.  and though he thinks he knows what’ll push her buttons, draco never would use them.  not when those buttons are the exact same ones that set him off too.

                                 war.  death.  

                                               … love.

     ‘ admittedly, not much in the way of practice, other than owls. ’     he shrugs, as if indifferent to her judgemental sentiment.  though he isn’t.  far from it.  if anything, it only highlights how different life must’ve been without a father with a name likened to lucifer.     ‘ i did have a dog once, a few years before school started. my father snapped its neck when i said i didn’t want to go to our annual yule ball. ’

                   you and i, we’re not the same.

     ‘ you realise you put the word shank in your cat’s name, right? oddly appropriate with all of the daggers he glares. ’     this time, the smirk brightens his eyes as he watches the ugly thing purr in her arms.     ‘ did you and potter adopt weasely for the same reason? ’

           𝐎𝐇, 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐆𝐎.. hermione stares aghast at draco, and the utter pretension of his body stretched out across the couch. ❝ please tell me you plan on taking your shoes off if you’re going to stay in that position. ❞ in her house, this would never have been allowed. maybe it’s different in wizard society. but as soon as she’d stepped through the door, her shoes came off, leaving hermione standing –– and now feeling particularly naked for it –– in her blue socks. the ones decorated in tiny versions of jane austen’s greatest works. 

she’s ready to leap in and retort before his words catch up with her. suddenly the shoes on the couch don’t seem to matter as much. a cold chill runs down her spine. god. WHAT KIND OF A PERSON COULD DO SUCH A THING? and what kind of a father would do it in front of their child? the shock displays itself plainly on hermione’s face, and this time it takes longer for it to melt off. 

but of course, draco malfoy can’t let her feel any sort of sympathy for him, so she has to force her eyes to roll.  ( still, the sickly words linger in her mind, and hermione knows this won’t be the last time she thinks of lucius malfoy with hatred in her heart . )  

❝ consider it a warning of what he can do to you with only one paw and five sharp claws. ❞ never-mind that she snipped crookshanks’ nails weekly... she chose to keep this to herself. the cat chooses this moment to jump out of hermione’s arms and up onto the couch by malfoy. crookshanks struts along the back, looking down at malfoy for a whole four seconds before landing on his stomach. 

          Draco holds up a glass of the most expensive beverage the gala offered to her, not even hiding the fact he’d come with a peace offering. He’d checked to make sure there wasn’t anything bizarrely magical about it before heading over, but he would be understanding if she checked herself, only mildly insulted if she did.

     “Don’t take it too hard, Grainger. One can’t hide in plain sight alone here. Catches people’s eye.” Especially when they see one of the golden trio, they did love to talk. His voice was casual, comfortable in the familiar atmosphere. He shrugs, looking over at her with a curious raised silver-white brow, none of his old cruelty can be seen anywhere. “I might share, if you share first.”

 –––––  

         𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒. a small, subtle inhale and she’s taking it from him. something like champagne swirls inside, shimmering and gold-hued, and vaguely smelling of citrus. hermione chooses to look at it instead of malfoy when she delivers the news: ❝ I don’t know if you’ve heard but ron and I split up a few weeks ago –– I could name one or two people who are... ENTIRELY TOO EAGER to ask me all about it. ❞ even though there was nothing to say or explain! after all the running and fighting for their lives was all said and done, there was little ron and hermione actually had in common –– in a romantic sense. she loved him, but as a friend more than anything. still, she doubted anyone would understand. 

        𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇, 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐄 –– before noting that pansy’s eyes aren’t even on her, but rather on the well-dressed older man standing nearby and prattling on about why contraceptive potions are the reason the magical world is going to hell. she shouldn’t be all that surprised to find that pansy and her have this in common; the enemy of my enemy and all that. ❝ I TEND TO FEEL THAT WAY WHEN MOST MEN TALK ABOUT WHAT WOMEN SHOULD DO WITH THEIR BODIES. ❞ 

          𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑, visibly startling to find malfoy right beside her. she shouldn’t be surprised to see him at the ministry’s gala, but here she’d thought she was doing a fantastic job of –– WELL, HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT, as he’d said. she presses her lips together and glances past him, at a window through which she can see the night sky. 

𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊. It was a quiet night. No practice and all her homework was finished. The Gryffindor Common Room was lively as ever. Still she offered a small smile in the direction of the other. A shake of her head. ❛  I haven’t, what does it look like? ❜  she questioned noting a few boys huddled around a book, alongside laughter. ❛  Oi, pricks if that’s her journal you better DROP IT and RUN. ❜ 

          𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 –– boys could be so childish, but girls could be even worse. while the former were clumsy and blunt, girls were tactical, with the ability to wound you right WHERE YOU WERE LIKELY TO BLEED MOST. she hid her fisted hands in her skirt, forcing an unimpressed expression while relief coursed through her when she found it was instead a pair of third years who’d ended up with her journal.