Vacivitas

Chapter Thirty-Two

Oh my goodness thank you all so much for the positive response to this story!!! I suppose now is as good a time as ever to tell y'all I am diagnosed with Autism, so it means a lot that my characters are speaking to people in some way. I have a tendency to code all of my characters as Autistic because it's what I know and understand. I'm happy people can see that this story is more than just the smut, also. I was worried that that was the only thing people would be interested in, but I'm happy that isn't the case. I hope I can continue to do good in every story I write from now on :)

The entire time I wrote this chapter I kept screaming "WHY AM I WRITING THIS" over and over out loud xD

Trigger warnings: non-con/dub-con if you squint via a cursed necklace.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Hermione hates her period.

That's the first thing on her mind when she wakes up with cramps. Again. She longs to go back to the blissful days without unclaimed spawn leaking out of her womb. To the days when she didn't have to worry about a vampire pouncing on her in the hallway to get to the blood.

It's unheard of, what he hinted at doing. Unearthly git. As if she would ever allow it. And it's not that it would feel bad or painful, it's just the principle of the matter. It hasn't been done before.

That she knows of.

She rips off the coverlet in her frustration, storming into the loo so she can bathe and wash the orphaned eggs away. She puts on another pair of leggings and a green cable knit jumper, casting the necklace a disdainful glance as she does so. It's going to become the second bane of her existence, next to Malfoy.

After pulling her curls up into two puffy buns on top of her head, she heads down to that morning's breakfast.

Hermione is the first one down, so she takes her normal seat and waits for her plate to materialize. Resting her forearms on the tabletop, she leans against the wood and gazes at the grey sky outside the windows. She reaches up with one hand to touch the emerald pendant currently hidden beneath her jumper, ruminating in her apprehension and worry.

She can't tell Malfoy with her words. She can't tell him by writing it. And she can't even think of anything that will let him know what's wrong with it. Whoever gave her this necklace is a monster, and she isn't so sure it's him.

Her thoughts are disrupted by Faye, who skips along to her seat, happy as can be.

"Good moooorning, Hermione!" she says, her smile bright and skirt flouncy. She takes the seat beside her and leans over to hug Hermione around the neck. "Did you have a good sleep?"

"I did," Hermione says, and it's a lie. "No nightmares, or anything."

"Now that's an accomplishment," Faye says, raising one finger. "I haven't had a night without nightmares since Malfoy got us out of the pit."

That makes Hermione frown. "I'm so sorry, Faye. I wish it could have been sooner, but–"

Faye cuts her off with a dismissive wave and another smile. "Malfoy already explained that there were things going on with the snake-head arsehole that delayed him."

Hermione bursts out a laugh. "The snake-head arsehole?"

"Well, that's what he is, isn't he?"

They both fall into fits of giggles as Tillian comes trudging in, still in his pyjamas. He says his greetings and sits down across from Faye, tucking into the meal that has appeared before him. The girls follow suit with their own freshly-materialized plates.