The Cabin | D.M 18+

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TW: Toxic Draco - some spicy themes.

- BELLE -

Gasping for a shock of weeping air, it felt like I had just been resurrected from drowning. My chest felt like there were weights pressing down on it. Blinking away the fogginess of my vision, I was surprised to find some comfort on my spine.

And as I retailed back to reality I noticed I had been placed on my own bed. Throat burning and aching like I had screamed for hours, my breaths were frail.

Sheets of linen had encompassed my body, the pillow resting my neck comfortably.

At least he had the courtesy of placing me in bed, after you know - attempting homicide.

Draco was perhaps the most and utmost predictable yet unpredictable character I have reunited with. It was like a game of hangman.

You only get so many attempts to guess correctly until you die from your own unknown mistakes.

How could I possibly know what to say or do? This man was more bipolar than the British weather. The imperial system made more sense than he did.

Even the muggle bible could perhaps explain more things than Draco could perceive. And religion wasn't an existent thing in this realm.

I looked around the darkness in the room, the sunlight had still been aray. Curtains were closed to keep any distractions out, but the pull of the breeze rippled the curtains like flames.

The ends of the fabric curling like waves as the wintress winters negatively impacted the warmth of my room.

Simply forgetting that Draco had violently delivered a chair through the glass. Its recollection made me shudder.

But now there was another worry that arose.

Winter was upon us. And neither of us had their wands, we couldn't wield wandless magic either and the sofa's were too small for me to sleep in.

My five foot five self would have no chance. Not without some major spine or knee cramping. I wouldn't exactly survive the coldness that was supposed to visit us.

Weather forecasts from the Daily Prophet seemed to only predict them at their worst. And as much as I didn't want to die at the hands of Malfoy, I didn't fancy freezing to death either.

There was no fireplace in my room and the room wasn't magically heated.

Seemingly I had no choice but to make camp on the living room floor. No chance was there of the blond giving me his bed. He was too proud of that.

Already I could hear his teasing about the situation. Making comments how I'd sleep on the floor like a homeless person, kissing the ground like my peasant self should be.

It was all too predictable.

His violence was surprising.

But the bullying aspect was something I hadn't merely forgotten. It was the only thing I didn't miss about going to Hogwarts.

I wasn't his only victim of course. Harry got it worse than them all. But I was a very high-withstanding contender.

Now that his death had reached the whole of the wizarding world, I was his target. Especially now that I was stuck in this cabin where he sought refuge.