No I don't own anything – not Harry Potter, not the characters, nothing.
AU of life post-War – we begin our story at Grimmauld place. Almost all the characters that died in the books, also died in this world - plus a few more to be explained later. In the midst of great disorder, the Ministry is enforcing a special program to break down boundaries between the former post-war alliances before students return to Hogwarts. More will be explained later - please try not to dwell so much onto it for now, as I wrote this quickly as sort of a prologue. (Don't know how much I plan to write, but will definitely write more if people dig this..)
Grim Times Intro:
The sun was streaming through in its last attempts to latch onto the coming night. The room was filled with pale-orange light and shadows.
He liked the way this setting sunlight made her hair kind of glow. Her full dark curls covered her shoulders as she had strewn herself across the couch, her face turned inward into the worn soft cushions. This was her favorite place.
He loved that he knew that.
He was standing over her now, debating whether or not to wake her. Only because he missed her. Wanted to know what she would have to say.
But he felt odd towering above her – just sort of shifting in his heels with apprehension, because Merlin! he couldn't help himself.
He saw the small bit of skin above her hip, just there, where her T-shirt had hitched up. He just knew – were he to touch it – it would be so warm. She was always so warm. She practically radiated heat. Even in her slumber, her body seemed to glow and warm up to him.
He wanted to slide his cool fingers across that small triangle, to work his hand around her hip and flip her onto her back – to lock eyes with her and have her greet him with that small smile she reserved for special fleeting moments that passed between them. And then with him seated next to her, almost hovering over her chest, he would say, "You dream of anything good there, Granger?"
And then, groggily, she would nod, never moving her dark-honeyed eyes off of his as she would reach with confidence for the waist of his jeans.
And yes, they were in the living room and any one of the others could be coming downstairs any bloody minute now, but he didn't sodding care. He wanted to feel her hand around him, to assure her of what she could already suspect from the look in his eyes – that he fucking wanted her. And Merlin! He just couldn't believe that this was his life. He was so lucky – so thoroughly lucky –
"Oy! What are you bloody standing there for, Malfoy?"
Draco affixed a cold hard glare to look up at the Weasel-King, standing in the doorway holding, as usual, more food. He hadn't even noticed him approaching. He didn't know what he looked like to Weasley, but he was sure it couldn't be good.
He was practically hovering over her – and now she just stirred. Great, he thought, a panic building in his chest. Obviously, she'd wake up with Weasley blowing up at him.
"Humh? Ron.." Hermione grumbled, trying to push the sleep out of her eyes. She stopped moving as soon as she sensed someone standing above her – only slowly peering over her arm to see white-blond hair and a long pale face with silvery eyes looking at her.
Draco cleared his throat.
"Thought I saw it from across the room, and I was right. You definitely… have a spider… on you," he said as evenly as he could.
Draco jerked back just as Hermione yelped and bounced off the couch, brushing herself off.
"Gee, thanks a lot, Malfoy," she drawled crossly. "Really helpful of you to just leave the spider on me…" she grumbled as she felt around the couch for her wand to wordlessly apply a scourgify spell.
She stalked off in a mood, none the wiser. When Draco looked back at the Weasel, he almost let out a laugh – Ron was still digging into whatever sandwich he'd just made but couldn't take his eyes off of the couch. He watched it fearfully between bites, shivering a little to himself.
"Creepy git," Weasley seemed to whisper, more to himself, as he left in a hurry, just in case a spider nest lay near.
Draco rolled his eyes and sat down on the couch, throwing his face into his hands.
What in Salazar's name was happening to him? He couldn't believe that this was his life now. He was so… so thoroughly fucked.