Blade Of War (Dramione)

Chapter 13

As days pass on, Hermione is convinced she's read every book in the library. She used the pages to pass time, till she notices it still goes quite slow. She started growing familiar to the manor as the route to the bookshelf was all she had to look forward to. Opening a book and skimming through the pages paid her a sense of familiarity.

That was of course till she looks up and around and notices she's not surrounded by the past walls of Hogwarts. Yet by the dark shadows of the manor.

She even brought some back to her room as she did nothing but sit on the bed, book in hand.

She wants desperately to hasten her attention away form those heated moments that came abruptly. Now ever so often. Perhaps even too often. Yet her mind did nothing but linger.

It's ever so hard to not think about it. He had a way to speak words that made her stomach turn, and hands ball up to the point in which her fingernails are etching deep. He speaks cruel of her, his remarks don't take her by shock, but make her question his humanity.

In those moments she notices his stance. He's still, yet with every word she would speak he would take a simple step close. He then would realize how near their proximity is and immediately takes a foot back. As if he were ashamed of their beings almost touching.

His smell lingered for days. Whiskey. It was potent. She soon realizes it was most likely his coping mechanism. Did it seem like it was working? Not one bit, his agony shined right through.

She could tell. Perhaps because she could relate.

She tried to shrug the idea.

He wasn't the one she wanted to find a speck of herself in. Yet they were both two who went through a horrid war. Granted, they were on completely opposite sides, yet it was war none the less.

She's deep In thought of the subject, but then remembers who it's about. With that, she snaps back to present time and lets it swarm to the back of her mind.

She notices the food tray with the same meal that was present each morning. There was a class of water, per usual, the liquid being as clear as can be. She goes for the glass, as merely half a drop hits her open wound that lied on her forearm and it stings. It's a strange pain, yet she blivied it to be merely just water. She no longer thinks that was all.

The letters that spelt mudblood were now reflecting with pain, as she let out slight screams, yet bit her tongue back to not cause an abyss of noise. She's clutching her forearm, with the other as she cant seem to comprehend what to do next. She looks around in ripples of panic, as blood makes its way to the surface.

She doesn't know how to act, as the stung worsened by the second.

She has no clue on what the substance could have been, yet almost thanks herself for not drinking a single sip. She inspects the wound further as she still restrains her loud shrieks.

The skin before her is enflamed, as it feels like a burning occurrence. She wants badly to ignore but the feeling is unmatched to some simple irritation. She thinks maybe if she wipes the residue the tarnish will fade, yet even with that the liquid has long gone, steeped into her skin, slightly in her body as of now, yet she doesn't feel it deeply notched in quite yet.

She still cant decipher what she had came to contact with, yet her shrieks were louder as of now, along with her frantic behavior.

Suddenly, a sharp creek of the door is heard, as Malfoy abruptly entered with plastered looks of confusion as Hermione is almost clutching her arm for dear life.

He's almost frozen.

He almost panics on the next step.

"What the hell is that?" He asked firm motioning to the substance that lined her wound. She tries to speak out but the wrenching pain restrains her in the process.