A Safe, Devoted Darkness

Chapter 5

Hermione groaned and rolled over in her bed.

There was something different about the pain this morning. It felt like it was waiting for her. Waiting for her to order it around. Direct it. Put it on its rightful path.

How should she control it today?

She sat up and rested against the headboard, trying to ignore the throbbing that once again originated in her abdomen. She could will this feeling away, but why not see what else she could do first? If at any point it became too much and she wanted it to stop, she knew how to do that.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated. She focused on the origin of the disturbance, visualised herself scooping it up in her hands. Grabbing hold of it to reform and reshape it for her own needs.

Take it take it take it.

A fetid, rotting smell invaded her nostrils and interrupted her train of thought. Darting out of bed, she walked through to her kitchen in confusion. Had it been so long since she'd cleaned?

The mess angered her. The evidence of her former hysteria and fang fixation was in chunks on the floor, on the counters. Flies had taken reign, setting up their own little disgusting kingdoms over decomposing fruits.

She could retrieve her wand from the bedroom and clear up the mess with a few targeted spells.

Or she could do something new.

She closed her eyes and drew on her new, growing well of inner power. Like a pot of water teetering on the edge of boiling, it seemed to simmer for an inordinate amount of time before finally reaching the required state.

Magic burst out of her at such a ferocity it shattered the windows.

But Hermione could fix the glass later. Because in the wake of her strike was a bounty of perfect, ripe fruit. Pristine, gleaming vegetables. Mouth-watering looking meats and cheeses.

She'd taken her magic and eradicated the rot.

She'd restored dead things to life.

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Malfoy pushed off his usual wall and approached her. "Good morning."

Polite and proper. No hint that he'd brought her to a leg-shaking orgasm against his library wall not twelve hours ago.

"Malfoy."

The last time she'd said that name his ruthless tongue had been circling her clit. She hadn't so much as said it either, as gasped at a decibel level far too loud for the height of his home's ceilings.

"Anything you're looking forward to in your work day schedule?" he asked.

"I..." she frowned, puzzled and trying to remember. "No," she finally said slowly. "I don't think there's anything..."

She trailed off and looked up at him as they came to their usual parting point on the mornings she wasn't inviting him to her office for less than professional private meetings.

Suddenly the pain pulsed within her. The sharp vibrancy made her bold. Tonight she could discover more of the physical properties of this feeling.

And this man would help her do it.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you later tonight."

"Ah yes. You had said yesterday you wanted to have a more practical approach now, is that right?"

"Yes. I'd like to use my hands this time."

"Careful Granger."

His eyes darted to either side of them, to the passing crowd of Ministry workers.