#mrsren

the war mentality, update thread. dramione eighth year and (slight) angst bomb. updates either weekly, or less, i pinky promise. i'm here to stay a while.

it's cheesy, but it's the story of my heart and i hope you enjoy it.

“Granger,” he practically choked. “Tell me who did this.”

“It wouldn’t do any—”

“Who did this to you?”

In Your Orbit by @mrsren

A stalker and subsequent attack lands Hermione in the protective custody of Auror James Potter. Between the forced proximity of his home, and discovering a separate side to her best friend's father, she's not certain how this situation ends with her heart unscathed.

Rated: M; Chapters: 6; Words: 22502 Warning: Older Man/Younger Woman

Cliffhanger: What book(s) are you reading currently?

A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J Maas. Yes again don't @ me. I'm tabbing this time so going really slow.

Stalking Jack the Ripper by Kerri Maniscalco

Title: What character would be your BFF?

Probably Nesta Archeron.

Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy

Summary: Meet Hermione Granger: an American exchange student who was gifted the opportunity to study abroad in Great Britain in the wake of a personal tragedy. She's brilliant, with a fierce hunger to explore the world and accomplish the bucket list in her luggage, the last thing she ever did with her mother. She expects a distraction, but Draco Malfoy turns her world upside down.

√ Dramione (Draco x Hermione)√ Setting: 6 years later√ 6 chapters√ My score: ❤❤ (okay)√ Rating: M√ Language: ***** (close to no mistakes)

Following the grisly discovery that London is being haunted by a serial killer, Hermione Granger finds herself with a stalker that blurs the line between reality and horror. Draco Malfoy is assigned to protect her, but with every twist and turn, she wonders if fate will let her out alive.

Hermione squashes his foot beneath her heel and smiles at the hiss of pain.

He isn’t wrong. Trapped in a closet in the study they’re not supposed to be in at a party they were not invited to.

“Good Lord, why did I become an Auror?” Draco mutters.

The crack of the door gives way and here it comes—the absolute mortification of being caught.

Draco hikes her leg up around his hip, the slit of her dress ripping to the top of her thigh and his mouth slams down on top of hers.

It’s just a cover. It’s a—

There is a slash across her cheek, and blood rolls down it. Making no movement, Hermione is flat on her back with pain shooting through her. From the base of her skull where it'd impacted, and all the way down to her toes. There is at least one bone broken. Par for the course, she suspects. It's luck that she's not dead already.

Luck that's landed her in the hospital wing, and not an early grave. Madam Pomfrey's space looks the same, mostly. There's crumbling brick in a corner, but the cots are strange. Thinner than she remembers, but it's been a year since she's seen them. After a year of running. she'd be happy to lay on a pit of nails.

There's shuffling—footsteps. Then rustling—the curtain beginning to slide open. She notices the pale hand, but not the lack of freckles. Her mouth curves as she waits for Ron to step close to her. There are more important things to consider than their kiss.

Sometimes, she's a silly girl and now maybe she'll have the chance to be here again. Because if she's here, Voldemort is dead and rotting. Her friends are still alive.

Her head lolls to the side, and she swears her blood freezes. Ice creeps down her limbs, paralyzing her. Not Ron, but she knows him.

Hermione recognizes the line of his jaw, the thin smile that had been in the old photographs. She remembers Harry whispering to her that this didn't look like a future mass murderer. That's the problem, isn't it? No one knew, but she does.

Slowly, she reaches for her wand, and the intruder doesn't notice her stiff movements. Maybe he passes them off for injury.

"I found you in the courtyard," he says, voice smooth, and dark. It's the voice of a politician, or one in the making. "Broken little thing."

She grits her teeth. "Get away from me."

Riddle's brows shoot upward. "That's no way to treat your savior. I stopped your bleeding." He should have let her bleed out.

Fingers curling around the unfamiliar wood of her current wand, Hermione raised it above the sheets. Things were clear. She was no longer in 1998, and in the back of her mind, she knew it was likely she would never return. There would be no Harry, no Ron. No silly girl sliding back into place with her books, and highlighters.

"Who are you?"

Hermione smiles, and raises her wand. Quicker than a flash, she aims between his eyes, and hisses the killing curse. She's never cast it, but she knows you need to feel it, and what she feels right now could peel the skin off his bones.

Green jets forward, but he moves in time.

Then he has her pinned to the bed, forearm locked across her throat and his wand digging into her temple. Gone is the forced politeness, and the practiced smile. For a moment, she thinks his eyes flash red. There's an inch between their faces.

"Who are you?"

She doesn't answer. Instead, she says, "You'd better kill me while you've got the chance, Riddle. If I get out of this bed, I'll kill you in your sleep."

Surprise rounds his pupils, and the reaction is gone when she blinks. "You're a violent witch."

Fear doesn't creep through her limbs. She's staring death in the face. Her arm throbs from being carved into. "I am what you made me."

Riddle's eyes rake over her, and it's an uncomfortable place to be. His left hand traps her wand against the bed. Any sudden moves, and he's sure to snap it in half.

"If you're not going to kill me, get off my hand so I can have a second shot."

He chest shakes, and then he laughs. Breath washes across her mouth. "Tell me your name." She doesn't respond. "Where did you come from?"

"Hogwarts," she says. "Did you take this long to kill the others?"

Riddle goes unnaturally still. "What did you say?" There's a quiet rage in the seething. A ring is wrapped around his fingers. She knows it well.

"Your father," she says flippantly. "Or Myrtle. Or whatever poor fucking soul that's had the misfortune of running into you."

Hermione's tired of running. There's no getting out of this. To go so far back in the past is unheard of. She already knows the stories of a wizard going back only four years, who had to live without being scene until he could catch up with himself. What a lonely existence that must have been.

She won't go through the same. If he's here, this is the forties and there will be no catching up with herself in the future.

So, she cuts her gaze to him. "You either kill me, or I'll hunt you down so I can put you down like a rabid animal."

A finger, cold against her skin, strokes her jaw reverently. It's the first thing he's done that scared her. "You know what I am." Riddle swallows, and pulls back, no doubt leaving an indention from his wand. "Tell me your name, or I'll take it from you."

Like she'd give him the satisfaction.

When he takes her mind, it feels an awful lot like he's holding it in his hands, and he might crush it. Might leave her as a husk without a soul. Her shields are strong enough to keep him out of seeing his own future. Instead, he sees her name on exams. On top marks.

Granger.

"Miss Granger," he says on a breath, too polite for someone who'd been a second from murdering her. "You're not dying today, but rest assured, your death will be mine some day."

"You're not murdering me." she says, voice flat.

It feels so nice to be working on writing again. I just wish imposter syndrome wasn’t a real thing I have to deal with. I even thought about making up a new penname because I’ve put so much pressure on myself, but then that didn’t feel okay either. 

But here’s a mood board for it!