ive never even seen the mandalorian
ive never even seen the mandalorian
#dhr
Hermione closed her eyes and took a long drag from the spliff she had just lit up, the herby smell and floral taste grounding her after a particularly tiring day.
“I never knew you smoked,” someone said. “Skeeter’s going to have a field day with that, you know.”
#dhr
Hermione closed her eyes and took a long drag from the spliff she had just lit up, the herby smell and floral taste grounding her after a particularly tiring day.
“I never knew you smoked,” someone said. “Skeeter’s going to have a field day with that, you know.”
Draco's hands are always cold.
Hermione doesn't know why, but they feel like a sheet of biting frost that is the twin to the steel reflected in his eyes.
"Don't touch me," he tells her one afternoon in the library as Hermione attempts to thread her fingers through his.
Draco's hands are always cold.
Hermione doesn't know why, but they feel like a sheet of biting frost that is the twin to the steel reflected in his eyes.
"Don't touch me," he tells her one afternoon in the library as Hermione attempts to thread her fingers through his.
Veela Draco? Anyone?
Veela Draco? Anyone?
When Professor Granger receives a howler at breakfast, even owls stop flying.
It’s Ron. He’s breaking up with her.
“—as long as Malfoy is all you talk about, it’s ov—
Hopeless, the witch sets the envelope on fire, but it’s already too late: the Potions Master is already smirking.
When Professor Granger receives a howler at breakfast, even owls stop flying.
It’s Ron. He’s breaking up with her.
“—as long as Malfoy is all you talk about, it’s ov—
Hopeless, the witch sets the envelope on fire, but it’s already too late: the Potions Master is already smirking.
"Good morning," comes a voice from above her head. It sounds... posh, smug, and far too sober for the alley at the back of Weasley's Wines & Whiskeys.
"No autographs," Hermione mumbles into the hands covering her face. She doesn't care that it's rude—all her friends are
"Good morning," comes a voice from above her head. It sounds... posh, smug, and far too sober for the alley at the back of Weasley's Wines & Whiskeys.
"No autographs," Hermione mumbles into the hands covering her face. She doesn't care that it's rude—all her friends are