Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously.
NOTE: As of now, this fanfiction becomes a collections of OS and works I most probably wrote for fests and don't think I'll ever continue. You'll find them all on ao3 as individual stories, but I didn't want to do the same here. Happy reading ! {3
Table of contents
#1 De Profundis Clamavi [Dramione, M, dark themes]
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Malfoy?" He came in, regal and tall, black robes billowing behind him. "Well, I have a proposition for you."
#2 Murder Mystery [Dramione, T, fluff]
"Let's make a list." She blew on her warm tea. "Do you know who would want you dead?"
#3 Joyeuse [Dramione, T, crackfic]
It had all started with a stupid note. Hermione was well aware that it was stupid; it was only a shag list. But she still decided to pursue the matter, like a bull following the colour red. After all, if her best friend wasn't ready to come out yet, she could help him; make a safe environment for him and let him feel secure.
#4 In Vinos Veritas [LoveNott, T]
"You're following me." It wasn't a question. Luna was no fool. She certainly already knew the correct answer. The man shrugged easily, his dark hair falling on his shoulders.
"What if I am? Aren't I allowed to spend my holidays here as well?" Her piercing stare looked right through him; any other man might have backed down.
#5 Sahārā [Hermione-centric: Dramione or Tomione is up to you, M]
"Only one of us can survive."
#6 Waiting for better days [Sirius-centric: may or may not be Wolfstar, T]
"What are you doing here?" Smirking, he shrugged easily. "I'm just wondering about the worthlessness of our existence."
#7 Intuition [Remus-centric: may or may not be Wolfstar, T]
He couldn't really say the truth. That he could smell it.
#8 Ndingakunceda? [Theo-centric: may or may not be Thuna, T]
"What do you mean?"
Draco arched a brow at his friend's antics.
"I mean, I have to go to some forsaken city and I don't know the fucking language."
#9 Cendres [Dramione, M]
Many years ago, she had disappeared from the world.
#10 Victoria [Victoire-centric, T]
"Now that she lies in ruins I will prosper."
#11 The Witch and the Woodsman [Lavender Brown/Oliver Wood, T]
"You are to follow him for a week."
"A week?!"
Her boss arched a brow as she screeched, indignantly. "I thought this is what you wanted, Lav'. A chance to make us dream, make the readers believe they are on that pitch with him..."
#1 DE PROFUNDIS CLAMAVI
Rating: The themes may be a bit too hard and dark on some people. Please proceed with caution: death, trauma, dub-kissing ahead hence a rating M.
AN: This was my entry for the Harry Potter: Make It Musical Fest, an anonymous fanfic fest with prompts inspired by musicals and/or songs from musicals. This was such a fun fest, thank you the mods for hosting it!
My Prompt was "Shallow" from A Star is Born.
Alpha and beta love: cinnamonbun24 & diandrastrikesback & Postal Ninja.
De Profundis Clamavi
OS.
"I beg pity of Thee, the only one I love, From the depths of the dark pit where my heart has fallen, It's a gloomy world with a leaden horizon, Where through the night swim horror and blasphemy."
M for DARK THEMES.
She couldn't hear the sounds of the speech.
She could only see the wooden boxes being deposited into the ground. The last place they would ever go. Their final resting place.
Her heart clenched painfully and she felt hopelessness grasp her soul.
How had this happened? She had protected them, she had sent them all the way to Australia so that they would survive this war. She had wiped their memories and erased herself to make them safe.
How had this happened?
Was this the universe's way of making her pay that they had died without remembering their only daughter?
"Where were you?"
She blinked in the shadowy light of the kitchen, noticing the empty bottles on the table.
"I was at work."
"Were you?"
His words were slurred and she closed her eyes, too tired to fight, too exhausted to have a proper conversation, too sad to make the effort to cook, even by magic.
"Shall I order something? It can't be that late, Ron..."
He looked at her from his seat, raising his empty glass in a mock salute.
"I miss him, Hermione. I miss him, and you're never here to talk to."
She sighed, and walked over to sit next to her zonked boyfriend.
"I know you do. I miss him too. I miss my parents..."
His baby blue eyes drowned in hers, unsteady and dazed.
"But we need to focus on how to move on..."
She caught his hand, as gently as she could manage, aggravated at finding him sloshed once again.
"Do we?"
"We do."
He wiped his face, at the tears that had gathered in the corner of his eyes.
"I need your help to get better, Hermione."
Her heart constricted in her chest. She hadn't signed up for that. She really hadn't. But he was her best friend. Her boyfriend. Her lover.
"Of course, Ron."
She was there. Again.
She had asked for a Muggle burial. Again.
No magic brought back the dead. They had had to allow her to handle this on her terms.
Her hands were shaking, her eyes bleary. Ron was standing next to her, wiping his eyes furiously, while Harry and Ginny were quietly hunched together.
This wasn't the way life was supposed to happen. It wasn't the proper way around.
This time the small box was alone when it touched the ground.
His face was furious but mostly bitter.
"What more do you need, Hermione?"
She could see the unshed tears in his eyes.
"Isn't what we have enough?"
She glanced away. Was it? She could remember life fluttering in her, tiny kicks that used to make her feel whole, Ron's hand on her stomach making her feel so hopeful about the future. Back when they were better, back when he had stopped drinking so much and he had still touched her. Back when they were happier, despite the grief and the sorrow eating away at her. When did she stop feeling complete on her own?
"I'm sorry..."
When would she stop grieving now?
"I'm so sorry. It isn't."
A knock on the door made her look up.
"I heard you're trying get some legislation through at the Ministry."
Her face remained neutral.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Malfoy?"
He came in, regal and tall, black robes billowing behind him.
"Well, I have a proposition for you."
She put her quill down, showing him to a seat in front of her.
"I'm all ears."
With a flick of his hand, he closed the door, making her heart rate quicken. He sat gracefully, bending his leg to rest his ankle on his knee. Why was he doing that; getting so comfortable after shutting the door? Was it safe to let him do so? Hermione wasn't sure if she should feel scared or not.
"I'd like to show my support. So that everything goes smoothly for you."
She crossed her arms on her chest, considering him carefully. Was it a con? A scam? How did she feel about having his so-called "support"? She thinned her lips, thinking about what his proposition could entail.
"And how exactly do you plan to support us?"
Malfoy smiled winningly, his hand resting on his knee.
"I have my ways."
Her heart skipped a beat but he merely laughed in her face.
"Nothing illegal, don't worry that pretty head of yours, Granger."
He leaned forward.
"But I'll need you to do something for me in exchange."
This was a bad idea. She was pretty sure it was a dreadful one, concocted by Malfoy's evil mind. But it was also the first time in a long time that she felt her heart pounding in her chest like this. She felt alarmingly alive and missed the feeling. She hadn't felt it since before her break-up, before her parents and her...
"What do you want me to do?"
"Sympathize with me at the next charity ball. I'll handle the rest."
He threw her a smirk, getting up slowly.
"I would appreciate it if you'd wear green."
He opened the door and winked at her.
"Thank you, Granger."
The bill had been a complete success.
She didn't know who Malfoy had talked to, but it passed well above her hopes.
Because despite how much she valued her competencies and her hard-work, she knew that it wasn't enough. Old name and connections paid well. Was this the world she fought for?
She shook her head, fastening the last button on her dress.
Her hairdo would have to be enough; she had already wasted too much time preparing for that stupid ball.
She put on her heels and wondered when she had last put on make-up, had last made any effort to look less like a living corpse. It was a shame that she was doing it all to appease Draco Malfoy and his shallow deal.
Hopefully it would be over soon.
"You were great."
He smiled at her, closing the door to her office.
"Brilliant, even."
She didn't meet his eyes, feeling her hands tremble. How could he...How could he pretend that everything was alright when they both knew how wrong it was? How wrong they were?
"Go away."
Malfoy sat across from her desk, not at all bothered by her words. He showed her a letter in his hand.
"It all worked according to plan, thank you for asking."
Hermione clenched her jaw, feeling her anger rising at the despicable man.
"Will you stop, then? I don't want to pretend to court you."
"Am I, though?"
Malfoy's smile broadened, twisting his mouth, his eyes glinting.
"My darling Granger, don't you see the possibilities?"
He raised a finger, counting out the facts that he deemed important.
"You get my connections so that you can change the world one bill at a time, and I gain from your influence."
She crossed her arms, scrutinizing him with a hard stare.
"You need the older members to trust you since they're the ones sitting in the Wizengamot, whereas I need the new government to trust me in order to keep my family's position."
He smirked as he continued, undeterred.
"We are not doing anything wrong, Granger. They will be the ones jumping to conclusions."
Hermione pursed her lips.
"We shouldn't have to follow their example of living shallow, trifling lives!"
"How else are you going to change things? Fancy another war?"
She glared at him, meeting his grey eyes, suddenly serious.
"I'm not asking you to marry me, Granger. You don't even need to meet with me outside of those events. But wouldn't you want to change things for the better?"
His eyes bore into hers, intense and unfaltering.
"If not you, if not us, then who?"
"Is that a gift, Granger?"
She gave him a thin-lipped smile as he took the box, opening it.
"I want you to wear red for a change."
Malfoy raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Do I have to?"
"You do after that last stunt."
Her heart fluttered in her chest at the memory of his hands on her waist and his lips grazing the shell of her ear. He had never been so close to her, so intrusive before that night.
"Am I not allowed to dance with you?"
"You are. But you'll have to wear red next time."
He looked outraged, shaking his head.
"This is so beneath you, Granger."
"Really, it's up to you, Malfoy."
He looked at her, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"I feel as if my training is bearing fruit. Is the student surpassing the master?"
Hermione laughed, that familiar warmth taking place in the bottom of her stomach. Stupid, stupid Malfoy.
"If I was, I'd step up the game."
His smile was actually rather pleasant when he put his arm back on her couch.
"Like what, marry me?"
He raised his wine glass to his lips, arching his brow.
"Aren't we having enough laughs at their expense?"
She laughed, a bit more than she ought to.
"Don't be stupid."
He looked at her, furrowing his eyes.
"With my name, it'll either be harder, or easier. I can't say, Granger."
She sipped her own drink. Could it be easier? But that wasn't the most important point
"As if I'd ever take your name. I'll always be a Granger first."
Draco had a lazy smile.
"Granger-Malfoy. You're doomed girl."
"No, not this one."
She was drowning. She was in way over her head. She could feel it.
Wasn't it foolish enough to have befriended Malfoy for the worse and the better; and now this? Sharing her projects with him? Her deepest desires and hopes for the wizarding society laid out naked for him to see.
And sharing was a bad idea; she could feel it deep in her bones.
But whenever he smiled that boyish grin she had never before seen on his face, she wondered how severely she had misjudged him since that first time he had entered her office. He did want to change the world for the better, this time around.
"I like this one."
He gave her the parchment back, his fingers brushing against hers.
Their eyes met over the table, her heart beating frantically, as if it wanted to escape her chest and meet him for itself, to talk to him in its mad rhythm and elaborate every single thought that had crossed her mind since their last meeting. It thumped loudly against her ribcage again and again, making her feel small but powerful.
They could take on the world.
They really could.
Hermione was going back home. She'd had too much to drink and that was generally her cue. Especially now that her mouth wasn't to be trusted.
But that bloody man, Malfoy had found her before she had a chance to leave.
"Stay. Come back with me."
He leaned down and his fingers grabbed the first button on her dress-shirt.
"Let me take care of you."
She looked up and met his gaze, hungry and ravenous, dark and cloudy.
"I'll make you feel good."
His hold was flimsy, light and frail, his digits trailing on the skin of her neck.
"I'll make you forget whatever you're running from."
She bit her lips. It was so tempting... It was so appealing. But could she? The feeling of her long-lost life still resonated in her, in her body, in her flesh, making her skin crawl and giving her a foreign sinking feeling. She stepped back.
"I can't."
"Why are you bothering?"
She looked up; her colleague was looking at the picture on her shelves. Amongst those at Hogwarts, there were a few of Draco and her, as they decided to continue their pretend-relationship, and Anthony was scrutinizing those with a deep frown on his face.
"What do you mean?"
He studied her a few seconds before answering.
"I think you got all you could from Malfoy. He has no more to offer you. Why are you still with him?"
Hermione's mouth opened, ready to retort.
"Don't get me wrong, we were all surprised but it made sense, the two of you dating. And I think it did you good. You got to use his connections, that only old money and his name could have brought us, and that were so useful for those first bills. But now?"
She frowned, clenching her quill in her wrist.
"Why do you think I'm using him?"
Anthony responded with a small laugh, turning to face her completely.
"Oh, come on, Hermione. He was the guy after Ron, and thankfully you chose someone like him, since rebound relationships never last. It's been a few months – and I guess, he has nothing more to give you."
Anger rising in her veins, she tried to keep her voice dry but cordial.
"It's really none of your business. I'm almost finished with this, but don't bother waiting here; I'll send it once it's done."
Surprised at being dismissed, Anthony left her office with a quick nod and long strides.
Hermione exhaled through her mouth. Was that what everyone was whispering about her and Draco? That it wasn't meant to last? Which was obviously true, even though the boundaries between them were becoming quite blurry. Still, it didn't sit well in her stomach.
Would she really be alright without him? Without his presence every other day, and all his useful advice for new laws? How would she cope with being lonely again?
She stood up and took the picture Anthony had been looking at. The one where Draco had caught her hand and was kissing her knuckles, repeatedly, his smouldering gaze never leaving her face. In it, she blushed profusely, completely, time after time.
She couldn't continue. That much was obvious. She was too invested. It needed to stop.
Draco wasn't going to chase her, that was clear and to be expected.
It would have to be a clean break. It would have to be simple. He'd understand that she wasn't interested anymore in their arrangement.
And never mind her poor heart which screamed in agony at the very thought. She wasn't ready, and maybe she'd never be. She couldn't make him wait for her... Could she? She cared enough to let go before something bad happened. For both their sake.
So, when her colleague smiled at her and asked her if she wanted to grab lunch, she smiled amiably and went along, laughing that false and shallow laugh that had worked that first night with Draco's peers.
Never mind if her heart was dying. Really, it didn't mind.
"I know what you did. I saw you. Yesterday."
She didn't look up from her book. She was wrong, then; he was one to chase her down.
"Yes, and?"
He sounded infuriated, inebriated even.
"Why don't you explain?"
She shut her book, arching an eyebrow.
"What is there to explain?"
His hands clenched and unclenched.
"Oh. I don't know, Hermione. How you can't even kiss me when I know you're dying to, but you're out holding hands with that fucker?"
She dared to meet his eyes. Hard, dark, unyielding. He was quite angry. Good, then. This would work perfectly.
"We're not really involved, don't you remember? You're not my fiancé, Draco."
He gave a bitter laugh.
"Is that what this is about? Do you want a bloody ring?"
Her heart skipped a beat, but she ignored it. This didn't change anything. It wouldn't change anything.
"Of course not."
"Then why? Why are you toying with me?
"I'm not toying..."
He crossed her living room, kneeling at her feet, taking her hands in his, making her shiver.
"What is it that you want?"
You.
But she couldn't. She couldn't. It wasn't fair to hold back, she was in no place to share all that she couldn't have and bear. All the pain that seemed to swoop on those she loved the most. So instead, she said what she had prepared in case of a confrontation.
"To be left alone, is that too much to ask?"
He dropped her hands as if her skin burned. Maybe it did, maybe she was that rotten.
"I've been waiting for you, but you aren't going to sort out your shit anytime soon, are you?"
Hermione shot him an incredulous look.
"How dare you, Malfoy!"
He shushed her, his finger on her lips, provoking a known fluttering in her breast.
"Don't bother. I know all about your acting skills, Granger."
"I..."
She couldn't even fathom an answer.
His face was mere centimetres away from hers, intense eyes boring into chocolate ones.
"I'm going to kiss you."
His hands cradled her face, his mouth hovering above hers, his lips almost but never quite touching hers.
"You really shouldn't."
"Oh, but I will."
Their breath mingling was making her dizzy and she found herself unable to think clearly. The smell of alcohol lingered in the air; he had been drinking before coming.
"You..."
His tongue traced her lips, as he finally, finally, pressed his mouth against her own, making her swallow her words.
She wrapped her hands around his neck, moulding herself against his chest, trying to get closer, to get warmer and... He bit her upper lip, his tongue seeking entrance, begging to press in and dance with hers.
He chuckled when she granted him access, her hands tugging at his hair as his tongue plunged inside.
"I'm going to devour you, Granger", he murmured darkly.
His hands caught her figure, bringing her onto his lap. None of this was according to plan. Her heartbeat increased as she gasped.
"Draco, no..."
His mouth had latched onto her neck, suckling and biting the curve of her skin, making her moan.
Except she couldn't. She wasn't ready.
His hands went to her sides, clutching her hips as a deep growl left his throat.
"You're mine, Granger."
He was grabbing her backside and she felt herself begin to panic. She tried pushing him.
"Draco, no..."
But he was back to groping her, lost in a sea of pleas he thought were humorous.
"Draco, stop!"
He finally stopped, leaving a trail of kisses on her skin as she jerked again, bile and fear in her stomach.
"What...?"
He blinked a few times, surprised at her tears, releasing her from his arms.
"I can't... I..."
She inhaled deeply.
"I can't... I'm not going to be okay anytime soon."
He looked crestfallen, grimacing.
"Was I... Was I overbearing?"
He let go of her, putting some distance back in between them.
"I... I'm sorry."
He got up, moving away.
"I... I'll go."
"Draco, I... "
"You're alright, aren't you?"
His voice sounded on the verge of breaking and if she hadn't known him, she wouldn't have caught it. "If I can't understand you properly, I had better get going."
"Draco..."
He was already by the fireplace, without bothering with a wink, a smile or a smirk. Without bothering to look back.
"See you later, Granger."
And he was gone.
The flowers on the gravestone were new. And it wasn't her doing. Was it Ron? Was he visiting regularly? It sure as hell wasn't her; she was too busy being afraid of feeling again. Of loving again. Of living again. Because, what was the point if all of her loved ones were destined to die? Could she bear the pain again?
"Hello there. It's me."
She sat by the flowers and looked around. It was peaceful, it was calm, it was empty. A desolate lane cruelly mimicking her life.
With no more pain, but no more joy as well, no more laughing, no more love... Like a movie with no songs, a book with no words, poetry filled with silence. Because, what made sense without love?
Wasn't she supposed to shake the world apart? Escape the shallowness of life by living it to its fullest, and let the consequences be damned?
She was losing herself... Again. But maybe this time, she'd find what she was looking for. Maybe in him, maybe with him. But she was determined to find something to soothe the ache. Why had she resented using love to make her whole again? To make her feel again? What had she been so afraid of? Had she been wrong? Worse, was she wrong now?
That evening, as she prepared for the ball, she chose her smaragdine robes carefully and wore the only piece of jewellery she had ever accepted from him. That would let him know that it was okay, that she was okay, she was ready to dive in. With him. For him, even. But, was it too late?
Her smile dropped when she arrived, looked for him and hearing the news. He had left. Where? No one knew. Why? She could guess.
Too fed up to wait for her, too bothered by their last encounter... Where would he go? Would he think of her? Would he wonder what she was up to and how she was coping with his absence? Was she supposed to stop pretending, or wait for him? Didn't he care for her? Or was he just taking a much-needed vacation from this crazy world?
This was it, then. They had tried but the timing was all wrong. It wasn't meant to be. Just like the rest of her life. A heavy weight settled deep in her chest; the same old feeling, worsened, saddened by his departure, but Hermione smiled nonetheless. She had decided to choose life. To stop being so shallow. She was ready, finally.
"Miss Granger?"
She smiled at the old couple she had been talking to and made her choice in the split second before she answered; he wouldn't know what hit him when he came back. That would teach him, to leave without saying goodbye. Without saying a word. And without explaining anything. Weren't they a team?
"It's Granger-Malfoy."
That would teach him. And she still had so much to do, so many bills to pass, and many lives, including her own, to save. She wasn't done, she hadn't even started. She was ready to dive in.
THE END