Two years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic invokes an old Marriage Act to improve relations between Muggle-borns and pure-bloods.

Originally posted as a written work on AO3: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://archiveofourown.org/works/34600720

Two years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic invokes an old Marriage Act to improve relations between Muggle-borns and pure-bloods.

Originally posted as a written work on AO3: ⁠⁠⁠https://archiveofourown.org/works/34600720

Two years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic invokes an old Marriage Act to improve relations between Muggle-borns and pure-bloods.

Originally posted as a written work on AO3: ⁠⁠https://archiveofourown.org/works/34600720

Two years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic invokes an old Marriage Act to improve relations between Muggle-borns and pure-bloods.

Originally posted as a written work on AO3: ⁠https://archiveofourown.org/works/34600720

Two years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic invokes an old Marriage Act to improve relations between Muggle-borns and pure-bloods.

Originally posted as a written work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34600720

Trigger Warnings: Infidelity, Murder, Deception, Somnophilia, Drowning, Pregnancy

Entering into an affair with a married man meant accepting a certain amount of pain. It was risky.

Foolish, daring, brash, all the darker traits of being a Gryffindor. But Draco Malfoy was a risk worth taking.

He was someone worth killing for.

Originally posted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62701024#main

It looked as if a rainbow was springing up right behind him. Or as if he was standing in the middle of one of the kaleidoscopes that Hermione used to hoard in her toy box. Or as if rays of sunshine were falling through stained glass and casting the prettiest prism on him.

He was beautiful.

It. It was beautiful. His aura, not him.

Originally posted on AO3: ⁠https://archiveofourown.org/works/63280471

It looked as if a rainbow was springing up right behind him. Or as if he was standing in the middle of one of the kaleidoscopes that Hermione used to hoard in her toy box. Or as if rays of sunshine were falling through stained glass and casting the prettiest prism on him.

He was beautiful.

It. It was beautiful. His aura, not him.

Originally posted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63280471