AngelaMattes
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“Malfoy. I need this.”
“You need this?” His tone had softened, but his gaze had grown hotter, almost to the point of smoldering.
She swallowed, bowing her head and looking up at him through her lashes. “Yes, Malfoy. Please.”
He sat back in his chair, absently toying with his Mont Blanc pen, shifting it from hand to hand as he considered her.
“Alright then. Tell me what you’re proposing.”
“Best out of five,” she answered in an instant. “Monday through Friday, with daily winners. Whomever has the most galleons at the end of the day wins–and then, of course, whomever has the most wins for the week takes it all.”
“I’m assuming there are daily incentives.”
“Of course, winner’s choice.”
A beat of silence fell over Malfoy’s office as they looked at each other.
He had tilted his head back, considering her through narrowed eyes, not even hiding their lustful roving, landing first at the top button of her blouse, and trailing down her elegant form, still seated in his guest chair.
“I accept your terms,” he said finally, the words coming out a bit ragged.
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Draco and Hermione are back for Eighth Year. The war has filled them with heated fury, and they love to take it out on each other. Hissed taunts in the hallways, obscenities whispered between classes- it's the only thing that makes them feel alive.
When Lucius alerts Draco of his impending betrothal to Astoria Greengrass, the vapid bore, he can’t stomach the idea of marrying her. In a moment of crazed desperation, Draco turns to Hermione for help, proposing a marriage of convenience.
Their union of fiery rage will keep him entertained; and the political influence and endless Malfoy vaults will fuel Hermione’s ambitions far more than any Ministry career ever could.
Infuriated by their surprise marriage, Lucius disinherits Draco, barring his access to Malfoy Industries and the family’s political connections, forcing Draco and Hermione to flee London.
It's been two years since anyone has seen them, but now they’re back, and Wizarding Britain is abuzz, speculating on what brought about the return of the Malfoys.
No one knows for sure why they came back, but one thing is clear: the former foes have become partners, united in vengeance, and in marriage.
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The Summer Charlie Weasley Closed on Pansy Parkinson by AngelaMattes for 3Raccoons1Trenchcoat
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
19 Jan 2026
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I’d love to hear about your day, Pansy. Everyday.
I’d muck out the dragon pens just to read you the newspaper.
I’d get up at the ass crack of dawn and walk in the freezing cold to get you the best coffee from the canteen, right when it's at its freshest.
And I’d sneak you out and take you on a dragon ride, so I could see those green eyes looking back at me with the mountains in the background. I want all that so badly, you have no idea.
OR
Charlie Weasley is Shoresy, and Pansy is Laura and they both have SO much rizz
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Happiest of birthdays to the indomitable Malascientia!
True to the diverse genius she is, this birthday present could have gone many different ways, and probably couldv'e/should've had more butts, but oh well. Butts are everywhere, how about a little emotional blurb instead!?
I am so thankful for the day you slid into my discord dm's, and that you chose me! I have loved watching you find your hobbies and passions, and cheerleading you as you explore your creativity! Writing CRUSHED with you as my beta was so special, but truly, the work you did on The God of the Dead- both literally, and as you talked me through the MANY ups and downs of it, will stay with me forever, and I can't wait to get that bad boy out there into the world somehow- with your name in all caps in the credits.
I cherish you, I love you, and I hope you have an incredible birthday, and, as always, I'm sorry for whatever grammar errors are in here!
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Draco had been working silently for the last half hour, running through an arithmancy proof to check that he had the right amount of Rosmarinus essence in their brew. He had only just finished when Granger casually swiveled in her desk chair, demanding his attention.
Slowly, her lips opened into a grin as she asked him for the first time, with such feigned innocence, that maddening, life-changing little question: Trick or Treat?