Chapter 8 | Sex and Scars

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When we got back to Malfoy's flat, I wanted nothing more than to sleep or to some how get my mind off of the irritating event, that happened earlier.

"I have a little bit of paper work and stuff to finish and go threw. I'll be done in about an hour."Malfoy said holding my chin and looking down at me.

"Alright" I nodded, he released my chin and  walked off, disappearing into one of the two closed doors near the stairs. I stood there dumbfounded, alone and feeling guilty as hell. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was because of what Harry had said to Malfoy. Perhaps it was because I feel like I've betrayed Harry and my friends. But it shouldn't matter, it's my decision and my choice who I spend my time with. And no matter who Draco Malfoy is, Harry should not have said that. Harry doesn't even know him. I don't even know him. . .but I want to. If he'll let me.

Not knowing what to do with myself, I decide to explore the rest of his flat. I walk into the room next to the one he disappeared into and gasp at my discovery. A room full of shelves of books along the walls, a fireplace, two couches, a coffee table and some quidditch supplies, Malfoy's Nimbus 2001 broom from his second year when he played as well as a Firebolt. Sweet Merlin. I'm in heaven. Taking his shoes off and getting comfortable, I grab my book from my bag, I take a seat in front of the fire on one of the couches and continue reading my book.

Hours had passed and I had almost finished my book, and my stomach started to growl. It was now time for dinner and I had yet to hear from Malfoy. He said he'd be about an hour, it's been several. Closing my book I place it down on the coffee table, and make my way from the room.

I hesitate outside the door that I assume is his office or study. I lean forward and press my ear to the door to try and hear anything inside, but hear nothing but maybe a crackling fire. I gently knock twice on the door, and get no response. Talking a breath I turn the knob and peak my head in. I'm engulfed in darkness, the only light in the room being from the crackling of the green, wild fire in the fireplace off to the left.

My attention however was drawn to the shadowed man, his head hanging down and slumped over a large black wooded desk. "Malfoy. . ."I softly whisper. The scene that lays before me is quite unnerving. A half drunk bottle of fire whisky was open and a glass was partially filled. I could see every muscle in his arms and shoulders flexing as he looked down.

"Granger. . ." He growls, lifting his head slightly to meet my gaze. His silver steel eyes were wild and haunting and very hypnotizing in the darkness. "What do you want?" He growls.

"Umm you've been in here all day. . .its time for dinner. . .I figured you would be hungry-"

"Your not my mother Granger. Do not act like her." He interrupts.

"I wasn't. I just-"

"You just what?" He snaps. What the bloody hell is his fucking problem?

"What's wrong with you. . ?"I ask, taking a few steps forward so I'm directly in front of his desk. "How much have you had to drink?" I cautiously ask inspecting the glass of fire whiskey in his hand.

"That is non of your concern Granger."he barks at me, not taking his eyes off of something laying on his desk in front of him.

"It is my concern Malfoy."I correct him.

"Oh really?"he grunts.

"Yes!"I yell outraged, loosing my temper. It's then that I see what has his undivided attention. His mark. This pulled a string in my heart. "Malfoy is this about what Harry said. . ?" I whisper. I get no response, only silence to confirm my horrid question.

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