Love and Other Misfortunes

Chapter 8

Draco was going to murder someone.

He just wasn't sure whom.

What he was sure of was that someone was trying to force him into bonding with Hermione. He'd suspected after Theo kissed her.

The rage and possessiveness that had exploded over him when he sensed it nearly made him blackout.

He didn't even remember leaving his chair and bursting into her office. He'd just found himself there, a split second from ripping Theo's throat out; the sight of Hermione stiff body wrapped in Theo's embrace burned eternally into his corneas.

He'd nearly killed Theo. After flinging him across the hallway and watching him crash satisfyingly into the opposite wall, he had barely restrained himself from turning around and claiming Hermione.

The memory of kissing her in his room haunted him. When he closed his eyes he could still feel her body beneath his hands. The curve of her spine, the soft nip of her waist. She was too thin, but still so soft and warm, and everything in the universe he wanted. The taste of her skin beneath his tongue and the moan she had made in response to his touch...

He'd come so close to giving in that night in his room.

If she'd kept insisting or, Merlin help him, if she'd gotten any closer while they'd been speaking, he would have been lost. He was certain Hermione could convince him to do nearly anything if she stared at him long enough with those enormous doe-like eyes of hers. He'd had to force himself to stop thinking and obliviated her before he could hesitate.

Then there he'd been, standing in her office after seeing Theo kiss her, trembling with the effort it took not to go and destroy all of his own work.

He had managed it. Barely. And then slogged painfully through the rest of the day, trying to come to terms with the fact that Hermione, whom he had very nearly given in and bonded with two days before, actually had feelings for Theo Fucking Nott. And Draco had so upset her by interrupting that she was she was hiding in her office and starving herself. And every time he closed his eyes he had visions of Theo pressing her against a wall, baring her skin and taking her—

He was going to go insane. He quite possibly already was.

Good Merlin, why wasn't he dead yet?

Right, because Granger had kissed him, creating one of the best and worst moment of his life all in one go.

He was digressing.

Someone was trying to force him into biting Granger. He had suspected after Theo, but he was certain following the accident outside the Quidditch shop.

After he'd tackled her out of the way, when he'd leapt up and cursed the bludgers it had been to force his instincts to zone in on protecting her and not on mating her in the middle of Diagon Alley.

Which was what he quite nearly did when he found himself lying on top of her with his mouth at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. His fangs slid out and if she hadn't still been in immediate danger he wouldn't have been able to stop himself.

Once she was safe again, he had forced himself to walk away. Which, had ended up being fortuitous when he stumbled across a bag of books that contained several texts on magical being bonding, amongst which was a French memoir of a male Veela whom he happened to be related to. He'd pocketed them all and stopped by Flourish and Blotts on his way home to buy out their entire selection on the subject.

Nosy witch, she was getting too close.

The intensity of the obliviation spell he'd used on her should have forced her mind to overlook or dismiss any inconsistencies that existed from the lost day. She should be wired to try to ignore anything related to it.