June 5 - July 5, 2025 ✨ Life as a couple is full of Firsts—Draco and Hermione are no exception. Let's revive our community by writing our ship's Firsts!
Here we go. Last one.
DM: “We should have a family tradition for the holiday.”
HG: “Yes! How about a tree?”
DM: “What tree?”
HG: “You know, Christmas tree.”
DM: “Who said anything about Christmas?”
HG: “Then which holiday?”
DM: “Potter’s day ofc. I was thinking we should…
“Granger why have you brought me to these quacks? They’re going to scar me up! Have I not suffered enough? I refuse to maim my face Granger, it is literally my best asset.”
Hermione is turning red with embarrassment and says crossly, “Draco, she is a plastic surgeon!”
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Him (inner monologue): Excuse me? Do I look like I’ve seen a toad? What a tosser. She needs better friends for sure.
Him (out loud): Go away.
Her (inner monologue): what a spoilt rich brat. Needs someone to take him down a peg. Challenge accepted.
Her (out loud): my pleasure.
Muggle au
The first time she saw him, it was his hair she noticed. Almost white.
So stark it made her pause, wondering if it was dyed or genetic.
She was still half-lost in that thought when he looked up.
“So?” he asked, bored expression firmly in place.
HG: “Good morning love. Happy anniversary! I miss you already.
Xx”
She puts down her phone and starts getting ready for her meeting. It’s their first anniversary, but Hermione had to come to Spain with Harry; you save the world once and suddenly you have political obligations.
Age 14
“Hermione could you please stop nagging?” I sighed, frustrated.
She looked indignant and walked away. Out strode Malfoy from behind the library shelves.
“You don’t deserve her Potter. She is so far out of your league.”
Hermione had her period, so he went out to buy lunch and a few other things.
He was making lentil soup. One of her favourites.
Red lentils with a splash of port wine and a dash of soy sauce, just how she liked it.
dhr
His palms were sweaty. His collar had become too tight at his nape. Draco alternated the bouquet between his hands to wipe the other palm down the thigh of his trousers.
Blowing a breath through his lips, he whispered a quick encouragement to himself, then raised his fist to
“Wizarding London’s Most Eligible Bachelor Besotted with The Golden Girl!”
Hermione slams The Daily Prophet down, jolting Harry from the nap he’d fallen into on the chaise across her desk.
“Besotted! The nerve!” The quill in her other hand snaps from the force of her hold.