Fallen Dynasty (Dramione)

Twenty-Seven - The Ice is Melted

Amor et melle felle est fecundissimus.

Love is rich with both honey and venom.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

She stood in the middle of the street alone, the last of the enemy around her were scattered at her feet.

"Hermione!" His voice sounded, making her turn sharply.

Their eyes met.

They both lifted their wands in defense. She saw it coming, but he was quicker on the draw.

"Stupify!"

His spell hit her directly between the eyes and she collapsed to the ground in a rumpled heap, her wand slipping from her grasp.

It clattered across the cobblestones, rolling a distance away from her.

"Accio wand," he snapped, rage bubbling beneath his words, the vine wood of her wand flying into his outreached hand. He tucked it into his robes, out of sight and out of mind. He strode over to her motionless body and looked around to make sure no one was around once more.

Glancing down at her, he paused momentarily as he gazed longingly down at her face. She was... ethereal. Other worldly.

His breath escaped in one quick whoosh as he stared at his wife with almost complete clarity for the first time in almost six years. The edges were hazy but he was there — for the most part. There was a prodding in the back of his head, a fight for power, but he was in charge for now. He had to get her to safety first.

He kneeled, his hand twitching as he reached for a stray curl on her cheek. He brushed it back, fingertips tracing across her freckled skin before he tucked it behind her ear so more of her face was exposed. Her long, honey brown lashes ghosted across the tops of her pinked cheeks and her mass of curls were a tell-tale sign of her against her black robes.

Her beauty alone could make a man start a war — or finish one. She was a rose in full bloom, yet bristled with thorns. He yearned to touch her. She taught him no one in love left a rose garden without blood on their hands.

And — his were covered in it.

"You beautiful idiot," he cursed, shaking his head before exhaling sharply through his nose. He leaned down, placing his arms under her body carefully before he lifted her easily.

He looked around quickly, eyes darting to his nearby surroundings as another mortar shell exploded nearby. "Fucking hell," He flinched instinctually before he tucked her closer, burying her face into his chest. "Always getting me in these stupid, totally avoidable situations." He grumbled to himself as he eyed a small, stone building a few meters out. "Almost six years...Nothing's fucking changed! Defiant, stubborn witch."

He carried her limp body across the street, the screaming more and more distant as the soldiers from both sides went further north. She would be safe here until he could come back for her. He pushed the wooden door open and coughed as dust and cobwebs instantly tried to overtake him.

He swatted them away the best he could, jostling her body around to carry her better while thwarting the spider's attack via web spinning. After successfully winning the arachnid battle - and not the war - he squinted through the dusty haze to see he was in an old grocery store. The food and valuables stolen were from the shelves, leaving them eerily bare. He spotted the register counter towards the back and surged forward, his boots making a squeaking sound across the linoleum at his sudden movement.