evoque
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Summary
Malfoy loathes her. He loathes her with his whole chest, and that is the single most reliable contraceptive available to a witch in magical Britain at the present moment.
In the aftermath of the war, the Ministry’s Repopulation Act is merciless: every unmarried witch and wizard must marry their assigned partner, produce an heir within eighteen months, or the Wizengamot will reshuffle you into an even worse match. Forced to live in the Malfoy Manor under constant Ministry surveillance, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy must now share a life, and the suffocating pressure to procreate.
Eighteen months. One forced marriage. Fertility Check-Ins. Ministry-Mandated Charms. What could possibly go right?
UPDATES EVERY SUNDAY!
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Summary
Newly turned 30 and still happily UNmarried, Draco Malfoy suddenly finds his mind filled with uncomfortable thoughts that aren't his own. Is he only imagining Ron Weasley's voice inside his head? Has he been cursed? Hexed somehow?
It's bad enough when the ginger git daydreams about last night's dinner... But when Weasley's lewd thoughts turn to Hermione Granger, Draco isn't sure how much more he can take before he breaks.
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Five years after the war, Hermione Granger has vanished into the Scottish Highlands, living a quiet, isolated life far from the wizarding world. Then, in the middle of a storm, Draco Malfoy collapses on her doorstep - half-dead, carrying an infant and haunted by secrets he refuses to explain. As winter closes in around the cottage, Hermione finds herself drawn into a mystery far darker than either of them are willing to name.
Updates every weekend.
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Summary
Draco Malfoy has an eventful 30th birthday, which leads to an even more eventuful year to follow.
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Summary
She stood in the middle of the field, snow slowly melting into water beneath her bare feet buried deep in the cold, rigid ground.
For miles around, there wasn’t a single living soul. Only the lingering remnants of the dead remained in the air, brushing against her cheeks and whispering through the wind.
A drop of blood — or maybe sweat, she couldn’t tell anymore — slid down her arm as her trembling hands tangled in her hair. A scream clawed at her throat, refusing to escape.
A ray of sunlight broke through the grey sky and landed beside a woman’s shattered body. Her shirt was gone, undergarments stained with dirt, blood, and the filth of the battlefield.
Hermione’s translucent shield flickered weakly in the light.
There was nothing left. Everything had collapsed into the abyss.And she was alone.