𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐀

☾ Chapter 36

☾

"It looks painful," Hermione whispered, unwrapping the bandage around his shoulder as he sat shirtless on the couch, grimacing as her fingertips ran gently over his fresh stitches.

"It was merely a bullet, Granger."

"You were shot?" Her brows raised in surprise, worry plastered across her features.

Meanwhile a puddle of guilt settled in his stomach. Seeing her bothered by his current state made him realize that he actually had a reason to care about his own well-being.

That someone was actually concerned enough to care about him.

"Granger-"

"You were shot and you didn't tell me?" She stared at him in horror, eyes lingering at the healing wound, "Where were you? Draco, what happened?"

Before he could answer three knocks banged against the front door.

She watched in silence as he stood from the sofa, threw on a shirt, and turned the doorknob, revealing a small group of death eaters in all black.

It was intimidating, them staring right at her.

"What do you want? It's my day off."

She heard them murmur something to him, his reaction a quick scoff as he laid his arm against the doorframe.

His tongue licked against his inner cheek, letting out a huff of dissatisfaction, "Fine... Just give me a minute."

He slammed the door shut.

"What's happening?"

"I don't know," he exclaimed hastily, "Put on some clothes. They asked for the both of us."

She quickly resorted to the basket of clothes in the corner of his bedroom, changing out of her pajamas into something more appropriate.

Before she could reach the door he grabbed her by the wrist, lifting her chin with his finger.

"I don't know what they want, nor why you're coming with me," he muttered lowly, overprotectiveness in his eyes as his hands wandered across the dips of her jaw, "I may have to be rough with you again. I need you to know that."

Hermione nodded in understanding, following him out the door and into the crowd of death eaters. She stood quietly next to him as he tied her wrists together, and began following them closely down the winding road.

Eventually they came to a small warehouse, heart lurching in her chest when she saw The Dark Lord, surrounded by what looked to be the other half of what was sent to retrieve them.

"General Malfoy," the snake-like man spoke, gesturing to a chair that sat in the center of the dark and mold ridden room, "If you'd sit your tramp there, now."

"My Lord," Draco exclaimed, not taking his eyes away from him even as he sat her down in the chair, "You know I don't like being interrupted on my free days."

He chuckled, baring his sharp, vulgar teeth. Hermione shivered, keeping her eyes low to the ground on her laced brown boots.

"Do you enjoy acting fatherly, or caring towards the women in your life, General Malfoy?"

Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked up towards him. It'd been such an unexpected question, one that managed to wriggle it's way through her wall of horror.

"I know exactly what you're asking, and why, and I shouldn't have to give you a reason," Draco scoffed, running his hands through his hair as he crouched down in front of her, "But if you must know, I like to be both rough and affectionate with my women. It keeps them — " he gently brushed a curl from her face, but then roughly squeezed her cheeks, nails digging into her skin, " — on their toes."