BlueDaffodil1691
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The war has dragged on four years with no end in sight. Hermione would give up anything to end it.
So when the Order wants her body, her bond, and her future, who is she to refuse?
An arranged mating Omegaverse fic.
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Astoria Greengrass has spent three years telling herself she's imagining it.
The way his voice changes when he says a certain name. The way he goes still over the morning paper. The way he laughs — really laughs — with someone who isn't her.
She is beautiful, well-bred, and perfectly composed. She is everything a Malfoy fiancée should be. And she has convinced herself, mostly, that it is enough.
Then comes the five year anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, and with it, Hermione Granger — in the flesh, warm and brilliant and entirely impossible to dismiss. Astoria had hoped that meeting her would make the fear smaller. That a real person would be easier to argue with than the idea of one.
She was wrong about that.
Told entirely from Astoria's perspective, Hard Pill is not a love story about the people who end up together. It's a story about the woman who is suppose to be the main character watching from the side — who sees everything, says nothing, and holds herself together with both hands while the truth she has been outrunning finally catches up with her. -
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Hermione had always detested cheating. “If you live with a loved one, it is impossible to want someone else,” she thought and was firmly convinced of it.
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Pansy took a sharp step up the stairs, closing the physical distance between them until she was gripping Hermione’s wrists.
"I need you to be stronger than me, Granger, you're the Golden Girl. I need you to be the one who walks out of the cage and never looks back. Because I am fucking begging you - don't let Draco Malfoy turn you into me."
"I won't end up like you."
"You're already halfway there, darling," said Pansy softly, her voice carrying a certainty that chilled Hermione to the bone.
The Golden Girl was never meant to be kept in the dark. Yet here she sits - imprisoned in a six-million-galleon chateau, as Draco Malfoy's Mistress.
Hermione Granger learns that survival in his world requires more than doe-eyed compliance. It demands a flawless performance. Under the calculating tutelage of Pansy Parkinson, Hermione must master the etiquette of a mistress.
this fic is already fully written! i'm just posting chapters as i finish editing them.
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Something was wrong. Something was terribly and irrevocably wrong.
Draco slumped in his high backed wing chair, bouncing his leg beneath his desk. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his eyes squeezed shut, as if in doing so it would rid him of his current predicament. Anxiety churned low in his stomach, a sensation he rarely ever felt.
Someone had hexed him. No, cursed him. A subtle enchantment cast upon him for public humiliation. That was the only logical explanation.