Obliviate

Chapter Sixteen | Montreuil

He was scared of Hermione Granger.

But now, now he was scared of nothing. Not even Draco's own shadow could attacked the deep set fear hid buried beneath the ice in his eyes.

For a dragon, Draco Malfoy was stone cold.

Even his presence was more than enough to give Hermione frostbite. He'd sweep in, attack her with grace, and leave. Once he'd gone, the power of his magic would do the talking.

Eventually, she'd turn cold too. She'd freeze in his wake. Her heart would be black ice. Dangerous.

Cunning.

Ambitious.

Pride.

Hermione's house conflict would swarm her - yanking at her insides like a rough game of tug-of-war. Eventually, she'd fit right into her uniform and wear it with pride.

The question was - when?

Hermione gently pushed her body off the mattress, embracing the warmth that flooded her skin. The morning sun was blistering - and reminded her of summer back home.

She leant down onto the floor and wrapped her fingers around the fabric of her robe, crumpling it between her hands and slinging it over her shoulders. The feathers around the ends of her sleeves lightly assaulted her skin, tickling the nerves.

Hermione pulled the curtain back and tied the cord around the sheer material, revealing the beautiful street in all its glory. The flowers that grew so boldly and elegantly swarmed across the frame of the buildings - the bright array of colours exploded right in front of Hermione's eyes.

It was nature's own creation of pure beauty.

Hermione let her eyes drift around her room. They caught the book Malfoy had gifted her. Inspecting it from afar, she let the story swarm her brain like a hive of bees.

Eventually, she left her room. The chill that lingered on her doorknob attacked Hermione's nerves as she pulled the door open. The fresh smell of cooking grew ten times stronger, as she let her eyes wonder down the hall into the dining room.

Draco sat at the head of the table - a mug and a book by his side. He rested his head on the palm of his right hand, the light catching his rings as the reflection traveled around the room whenever he moved.

She watched him for a moment. Silently.

"Morning, Granger."

Hermione's eyes widened. She swore he had eyes everywhere.

"Morning," she forced out abruptly and quickly moved into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and slipped her robes off her shoulders, hanging it on the back of the door.

She reached out to the dial in the shower - hesitating for a moment. Her hand shook slightly as it hovered in the air. Her mind darted back to her experience in the room she stood in.

Heat.

Her heart skipped a couple of beats as she slowly turned her head around, eyeing up the door handle.

She reluctantly let the hand that still lingered near the dial switch around and grasp the handle.

She creaked the door open a notch - peering through the crack and looking down the hall. Draco still sat in the same position, reading his book intensely.

"Fuck," she breathed into a whisper, her heart pounding against her rib cage.

Power struck Hermione like a dark curse right in the chest. She opened the door proudly, stalking down the hall. Every step she took, her heart pumped aggressively. The blood that pumped around her veins was now more noticeable in the lower portion of her body.