Ready Or Not

Ready or Not 

Hermione had been shaking when she told him. She’d had to clear her throat several times and her pulse was pounding so loud in her ears that she almost couldn’t tell if she’d finally gotten the words out. 

The way Ron had reacted had been enough confirmation. She’d sat frozen as the sucker-punch pain of it all spread across his wide blue eyes and twisted it’s way over his mouth.

 “It’s okay ‘Mione, I understand,” He’d said softly, his cheeks pale and his hands clenched into fists. 

Hermione knew he didn’t. 

She’d never told him that there was someone else. It was never going to happen anyways.

Until…

Until, one night it did. 

They were drunk and giddy in the blue dusk of Harry’s garden when she stumbled and rough hands caught her waist ceasing her fall.

Suddenly, Hermione was looking up into wide eyes and blown out irises and she’d needed to remind herself to draw a breath against the tightness of her rib cage. 

They stood there for a second as if suspended in time before their lips brushed together. The kiss felt like a long time coming, like ready or not. 

When Hermione pulled away she looked up into Ginny’s warm brown eyes and smiled softly. The ache in her chest finally felt warm.

Closing his eyes he tips his head back against the steady wooden wall and wills his head to stop spinning. When he peels his eyes open again Draco’s there beside him.

Harry sucks in a breath, holds it and feels unsteady on his feet.

“Come with me.” Draco tells him, hand outstretched. 

Harry doesn't even wait a beat before taking it. 

Draco’s skin is soft against his and his palm is bigger than it used to be. Harry forces himself to draw a breath against the tightness of his ribcage. Heat crackles down his spine.

Draco tugs him through the loo door and stops suddenly, making Harry stumble a little. He catches him and presses him up against the wall.

When Draco kisses him Harry’s lips are already parted.

There’s less anger in it this time, just the casual pleasure of open mouths and tongues sliding together. Harry moves his hand up, clenching his fingers around Draco’s wrist, and watches as he squeezes his lids shut. He feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, the strong wind pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

Draco groans into his mouth and the inside of Harry's thighs flare with warmth. He reaches up with his free hand and tangles it through Draco’s long golden locks tugging gently. “Fuck,” Draco exhales quietly, slotting his thigh in between Harry’s and pressing him more firmly to the wall.

Excerpt from my new fic Inexplicable Things 

Harry leans into Theo’s warm embrace. He thinks about Draco’s gray eyes, the way they narrow when he wants something, and flicker to light when he laughs. He thinks about Draco’s long limbs, his casual saunter. He thinks about the afternoon in the potion’s lab with Draco leaning back beside him. He thinks he always knew it would come to this, his heart full and ready, waiting to spill into pale broad palms.

Read full work here 

Nostalgia is like hey remember that time in your life when you were unbearably sad and angry all the time? What if you weren't? What if you actually miss it? What if magnolia trees never smell like that again?

Watching Draco in the lab feels like time travel. It takes him straight back to eighth year, “Remember how it used to be?” He asks softly, quickly, before he can convince himself not too.

Draco stops mixing the potion and holds himself very still, his body tightly coiled. When he turns he’s staring at Harry with a breathless focus.

So Draco remembers as well.

Remembers the way they’d danced around each other in potions class as if they were afraid to touch, afraid to speak to each other. Remembers Harry sneaking down to the potions lab to meet him late at night, the excuse of their assignment always at the tip of his tongue. Always sneaking, always careful, Draco’s pale hands covering Harry’s mouth to muffle his sighs as he pressed him back against the countertops and let him unravel.

Harry remembers all of it. Even now, sometimes he finds his mind back there in the potions lab, at Hogwarts, thinking about what it had been like for someone to touch him like he meant something, like he was made of glass. He can’t quite count the number of times he’s come with Draco’s name on his tongue.

Excerpt from my new fic Inexplicable Things

Helloooo

When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy (but only if you want to)! Then, send to the last ten people in your notifs (anonymously if you want). You never know who might benefit from spreading positivity ♡

This is such a wonderful idea! Here are 5 things that make me happy in no particular order :)

1. A really good book

2. The smell of fresh cut grass

3. My dog sage who I love an extreme amount

4. Slam poetry (any type of poetry actually)

5. Spending time with the people I love!

Thank you so much for this fun and positive ask! Answering it really put me in a better mood 💜💚