Anchor and Rose | Dramione

Nine.

The feeling of Draco's breath had lingered on Hermione's lips for a few minuscule hours afterward. It made her feel violently sick.

But she wasn't sure why.

It had seemed like a ploy for power on Draco's part. He had clearly enjoyed pushing her against walls and dominate her whenever Hermione showed one once of authority to challenge him.

He was simply a wolf fighting for his territory.

She knew that. That it didn't mean anything but that. That Draco was a cruel boy just like his father, that Draco enjoyed to head-fuck people to get himself to the top. She knew that.

It still made her stomach bubble.

It pained Hermione that she had run from Hogwarts to avoid the problems of the war, but she still had so many fucking problems in her mind to do with matters she had never even considered to be a possibility in her escape.

Her magic was...faltering. She deemed this to be down to her stress. Magical ability always depended on stress and power and authority. She had too much stress. She hoped that was the reason.

Draco was being an insufferable twat like always. He constantly confused her, told her he would never help a 'Mudblood' but then continues to let her hide away in his mother's home. Told her he hated her then ghosts his lips across her own. Told her to leave him alone but continued to cook her breakfast every morning for a week.

And not to mention the new found need for information at finding a mysterious powerful wand in Regulus Blacks previous bedroom. It toyed in her mind constantly. Something inside of her told her it was rather important, that it was made to be found by someone like her. She just didn't have to resources to figure out how or why.

Hermione had remembered the letters she had found inside of Regulus' room and had hoped it would have helped her in figuring out the importance of the wand. It didn't. The contents of the letters had all been removed by a concealing spell, all but one.

Thank you.
The job is done.
- R.A.B

When she had asked Draco if he knew what the task could've been, he scoffed and told her to leave him alone with such 'nonsensical questions.'

Being out of control was not a strong-point for Hermione. It had been the reason she had tried to drown herself in the Black Lake, after all.

-

"Stop it." His voice cracked through the room.

She looked up at him with furrowed brows as she swallowed her toast dryly. "Stop what?"

Draco groaned. Mist fell from his lips. Hermione had become accustomed to the cold of the house so she hadn't noticed it freezing temperatures anymore.

"Thinking so much." He eyed her as he gripped the Daily Prophet in his hands. His knuckles were white.

She had felt a little sick at the headline, but tried her best to ignore it.

"Danger in the Ministry as Death Eaters continue to take control."

"I'm not thinking." Hermione shot back, pushing the white plate away from her. Draco's attitude had easily made her loose her appetite.

"You are." He rolled his eyes and bit on his bottom lip. "I can practically see the thoughts swarming that putrid little brain of yours."

He was right. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of thinking so.

"Granger, give it up already." He continued, his eyes glancing over at the wand beside Hermione's plate. She hadn't realised she was carrying it with her everywhere she went. "Are you really still that bothered by that stupid wand?"