𝐵𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 | 𝒟.𝑀.

37 | ﴾ Highly Imprudent ﴿

I awoke in the darkness of the boys Slytherin room to the sounds of them bantering and dressing, and the sweet piney smell of my gorgeous fiancée.

He was awake. His blue eyes were concentrating on the conversations and movements in the room beyond the curtains, and his fingers were drawing little swirls on my waist. "Don't move, they're going to leave soon," he advised against my forehead.

I disobediently turned my face up to his to push sensual kisses against his lips and he moaned at the affection he'd been craving for so many days. His fingers tightened around my waist as I ran mine over his boxers.

"Draco are you up? Or still bawling pathetically over that girl?" One of them smacked the outside of the curtain and a few others giggled. It was Friday, meaning he didn't have any morning classes and neither did I. There was no rush to leave, and I had every intention of talking to him until we had to.

He broke away to yell at them, "Piss off you uncultured rubes, I'm trying to sleep in." His voice had gained back its authority and arrogance now that he had the affirmation of my love back. There was no way Blaise wasn't out there with a telling expression on his pristine features.

He turned back to me and uncharacteristically nuzzled his face into mine with a smile. His long hair fell down over his pointy features as he kissed my face and my neck and I had to fight the urge to scream out from the ticklish sensation. It was phenomenal how the days spent thinking he'd lost me permanently had altered his personality through such intense fear. That, and the stone hanging around his neck.

"Draco, stop," I whispered in a tiny giggle.

"I'm never letting you out of my sight again," he replied quietly as the door clicked and it was finally silent. He lifted his head to listen and I found myself lost in his blue eyes darting around suspiciously. 

His gaze fell back on me, "So tell me Madeleine, about that wandless magic you conjured before. I've never seen anything like that." His gaze was calm and intense, and I could feel his breath on my cheeks.

I dropped my eyes, "I honestly.... I do not know. Et 'appens when... when I'm really angry." I chewed on my lip feeling like he would judge me for being reckless with magic and my temper. I could have killed him the other day in the courtyard - it was by some miracle that I managed to form it into a wall before it hit him.

He just stared at me, "Sounds complicated."

"It is complicated. I cannot control it." I played with his sheets in my hands to distract myself from his burning attention.

His fingers grazed my chest above the cut of my red dress, "I think it's hot. Literally hot, you could've reduced me to ashes. I'll have to remember not to make you angry." He was giving me a snide grin and I could tell he was trying to lighten the mood with jabs.

It wasn't working. Truthfully, another reason why I had spent days in my bed after the incident had been to cope with the flames. Whatever it was that I'd seen in that mystic orb on Dumbledore's desk felt like it was growing inside of me. It had released at a scale ten times than that of the first time during my rage in the courtyard, and the rapid progression was worrisome.

I looked up into his eyes, and his smile vanished quickly with my worry, "I've seen dese flames in premonitions before. Only darker, and my eyes were filled wit' evil. Dumbledore tried to speak wit' me about it, and I wish 'arry 'ad not been dere to confuse things. I need to know what is 'appening to me before it is too late."

He pushed back from me to look at me more seriously, "Nothing is happening to you. You're fine. Don't listen to Lunatic Lovegood and the Boy Who Just Starts Drama. Potter doesn't know when to stop overreacting. Usually it's quite humorous but this is a prime example of him taking it too far. I can do wandless magic too, loads of magicals can."