SummerPsych
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"Malfoys do not beg," he said - jaw tight, chin up, every inch the aristocrat even on the edge.
"We'll see," said Hermione Granger.
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Seventh year, one shared common room, eight months of unbearable tension, a month of rounds he's been quietly covering and lying about, and the gradually dawning, mutually horrifying realization that the feeling is entirely returned.
Bookmarked by SummerPsych
22 Jun 2026
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Hermione has developed an unhealthy copy mechanism to deal with feelings she's developing for her friend-with-benefits.. She imagines she's playing out a scene from a romance book. It backfires spectacularly when she accidentally calls him Daddy.
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Bookmarked by SummerPsych
21 Jun 2026
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An Official Statement from The Office of The Minister for Magic
Minister Granger is excited to announce that she is expecting her first child, due June 21.
Undersecretary Parvati Patil will step in as Interim Minister for six weeks while Minister Granger takes a short period of maternity leave.
“I look forward to welcoming my little one, and acting as both Minister for Magic and mum. I plan to be fully contactable during my leave, and will resume all ministerial duties upon my return.”
The Minister will not be disclosing the identity of the child’s father at this time.
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Bookmarked by SummerPsych
15 Jun 2026
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Happy Birthday Auror Malfoy! This is explicit, and if you're not into that, this present is not for you!
Bookmarked by SummerPsych
12 Jun 2026
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Gods, she was stupid.
And yet so incredibly warm, her body was crawling from the tips of her toes to every nerve ending in her head. Her gums kept filling with saliva; she’d swallow, and seconds later her mouth would be a pool of spit again. She rocked on her heels, inhaling and exhaling as though she’d never known air, itchy in her clothing, squirming in her skin. She could hear Bill and Charlie arguing in front of her, but their words were nothing more than a dull, distant drone.
She was stupid.
Bill had kindly taken her under his wing at Gringotts, and she’d been so eager to prove herself. Charlie had told her not to touch the clutch. He’d been quite direct. She hadn’t listened. She said herself no harm would come from a quick once-over. Eagerly, she’d wanted to show them she wasn’t a girl anymore, wasn’t their little brother’s ex-girlfriend. She was a woman. An esteemed witch. Defined by her own making.
Yet here she was, panting, clawing at her clothes, twitching on Charlie’s weathered, springy bed, while the two men argued over what to do with her.
Bookmarked by SummerPsych
08 Jun 2026