Hermione And Ron Novels & Stories

I love messing with anyone's patience and that's what I'm good at. I am now walking with a smile plastered on my face and it turned into a serious one when I reached the living room where my father and the alpha that my father is insisting me to marry, talking and laughing as if they were friends for years now. No one would've thought that their packs were actually each other's enemy. Pathetic. "Oh, here she is. Craige, meet my daughter, Hermione," my father immediately introduced me politely but I never let my face show any emotions. He was looking at me as if telling me to not do anything stupid. Well, what I'm going to do isn't stupid at all.

The air hung thick with tension, the only sound being the faint bubbling of the half-stirred potion still simmering in the cauldron. Eron closed his eyes and exhaled a slow, trembling breath. He should have known that Ron would figure it out. The Nightshade Witch could be very dumb at times but also very perceptive. At least, he was easier to talk to than that husband of his whose only job was to listen to heaven and do whatever they asked of him. With a flick of his finger, two wooden chairs levitated toward him and Ron, landing softly before them. He sat down heavily, burying his face in his hands.