Chapter 7

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Light from the setting sun streams through the windows as I crack open my eyes. Warmth envelopes me, making it hard to rouse myself from sleep. I groan as I stretch my limbs. My bed moves from underneath me, causing me to let out a shriek, falling to the floor as I jump in surprise.

"You okay, little witch?" I look up at the question, seeing Draco lean over the side of the couch and watching me with an amused look, voice still rough with sleep. My face reddens in embarrassment as I stand and regain my footing. Taking a look at our surroundings, I realize we're not in the manor as I had previously assumed. As Draco sits up, rubbing his face tiredly, I walk to the nearest window and look out.

Surprisingly, the ocean greets me. I stand in shock for a moment before whirling around to face my betrothed.

"Where in Merlin's bloody beard are we?" I exclaim, watching him stand and stretch.

"Our home." The simple answer only leads to more confusion as he crosses the space between us, peering out the window as well. I watch him carefully, taking a step to the side to put space between us.

"This is neither Nott nor Malfoy Manor. Neither of our parents' properties face the sea."

"I said it was our home. Not our parents."

The silence is thick as I stare at him in confusion. Suddenly, our conversation from that night so many weeks ago in the manor library crosses my mind.

"Please tell me we are not in France."

"Fine." The blond looks down at me with that infuriating smirk on his lips. "I won't tell you."

"What the actual fuck, Draco?" I groan, threading a hand through my hair as I begin to pace.

"Darling, you were distraught and I didn't know why. My Veela was ready to slaughter anyone who came near you in such a vulnerable state. I needed to take us where we wouldn't be bothered until we had both calmed down." His tone is laid back as he takes the time to watch me walk, eyes following back and forth.

I sigh in exasperation as I stop and fall into a chair. I raise a brow at him. "So you couldn't have just taken us to my or your room and locked everyone out?"

"That would have been too easy." His response induces an eye roll. "Now." His eyes darken as they had earlier as he stalks over to me. It seems that him trapping me in chairs has become more and more common. "Why did those imbeciles have you in tears?"

Almost instinctively, I reach out to place a hand on one of the arms he has leant on the chair. The action surprises both of us. My hand quickly retreats back, holding it to my chest. "Hermione had just given me some bad news about our parents. I needed to leave before I completely lost it in the middle of the shop."

There's a staring contest between us for a moment before he backs up, moving back to his position in front of the tall window. He stares out at the ocean once more.

"Why was Scarhead touching you so...freely?" The question has steel behind it, causing the fine hairs on my arms and the back of my neck to stand on end.

"What do you mean?"

My stomach drops as he turns to me, anger lighting up his irises.

"He held your hand. You allowed him to touch you so...casually." The anxiety that grips my throat slowly transitions to anger as he continues. "You allowed him to touch you when you are already spoken for. When you won't allow me to touch you in the same way."

I cross my arms over my chest. "Harry is one of my best friends. We have been friends since we were eleven. I have known Harry and Ron long enough for casual, friendly touches. They are both as good as my brothers and I love them as such. Just as I love Hermione and Theo. And you have no right to question who I let touch me."

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