+alt cow color, and some extras #dramione #dhrart

Currently obsessed with the auror!Draco stuck with minister for magic!Hermione trope. And he deserves the stress, honestly 😌

that triumphant and infuriatingly self-satisfied air – as though she had just saved the world for the third time in one afternoon – made him think that there was, in truth, nothing more dangerously irresistible than Hermione Granger.

Especially when she decided to be /stressful/.

✨

Probably the same one that, late at night, while he was buried under piles of paperwork and fighting off sleep, tormented him with the sound of her voice ordering him to focus.

The same one that, every time she opened her mouth to correct him, contradict him or boss him around with

and the way her dark eyes seemed to sparkle with a life of their own when she glared at him.

He scornfully wondered what kind of hideous god of karma had decided to toy with him.

Part of Draco truly wanted to leave her there and let her deal with whatever deadly trap she was inevitably about to trigger.

The other part, however, was starting to notice – with increasingly growing irritation – the faint dimple that appeared on her right cheek when she smiled,

With that smug expression, the cheeky curve of her mouth and the unwavering confidence of someone who knew perfectly well she was /literally/ unstoppable, Hermione Granger was the living embodiment of a pesky stress-induced rash.

And he, regrettably, the poor bastard who couldn’t get rid of it.

“Then I suggest you keep your emergency response skills sharp, /Auror/ Malfoy”.

Sweet Salazar.

“One of these days, you’re going to get yourself into trouble so deep even I won’t be able to get you out of it, /Minister/ Granger.”

At those words, she flashed him an angelic smile, which Draco had since learned was the roughly equivalent of a perfectly aimed middle finger.

Draco closed his eyes for a moment, silently counting to ten. Then, exasperated, ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair and gathered what little patience he had left.

He had vowed to protect the Minister for Magic, not to oversee her disguised-as-political-zeal suicidal instincts.

The mad witch barely looked up, her curls messy and her eyes shining with frustration. “I thought you were here to stop me from doing exactly that, Malfoy”.

“Granger, if you get yourself blown up again because of some cursed file, I swear I’ll let the next fundamentalist Pureblood finish the job”, he hissed one afternoon as she attempted to defuse a runic seal with the grace of an enraged troll.

Unfortunately for him, as the Auror in charge of her security, Draco was required to follow her like a shadow through paperwork, diplomatic meeting and impromptu raids into the Ministry’s basement to dig through pages and pages of mouldy confidential files.

Not exactly his idea of fun.

Since becoming Minister for Magic, she had seemed determined to solve all the problems of the wizarding world within a week.

And to involve him personally in each of them.

who spent half his time chewing junk food with his mouth open and the other half being so painfully ginger and incredibly Weasley-esque.

Yet nothing, /nothing/ could compare to Hermione Granger.