This Bitter Earth

NINE

Please be aware that this chapter contains somnophilia. 

Also I didn't use a beta for this one (surprise Bree!) and I only edited this once because I was so excited to give y'all another chapter! So hopefully there aren't too many mistakes in this one.

Soundtrack- "Sick and Tired (feat. Machine Gun Kelly and Travis Barker) by Iann Dior and "Don't Fall for Monsters" by DeathbyRomy

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NINE

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Four days. Four days and Hermione had refused to speak a single word to Draco. As far as she was concerned he had his chance to talk to her and he had walked out. He had left. Shutting her up in a cage in his dark bedroom for hours. And when he had come back he collapsed into the bed, locking the bars of the cage into place and rolling over without a word. She had to lay there next to him, breathing in the smoke from his robes.

It was acrid and smelled like burning hair.

But in the morning she woke up to his arms around her and her head tucked under his chin, curled up against his chest, holding onto those same black robes and feeling his chest rise and fall gently under them.

When she pulled away her hands were smudged black and Hermione wiped them all over Draco's fine sheets.

When he finally woke up, he let her out of the cage and walked her to the bathroom. Hermione slammed the door in his face, locking it manually as he shouted her name and beat his fists against the thick wood. She leaned back against it, feeling his blows landing like a beating heart as the door shook in its frame.

Hermione stared at herself in the mirror, eyes wide and fearful and Draco roared on the other side of the door. He could unlock it with magic and storm in, but he didn't. Hermione stayed pinned against the door until she heard a final thud and a low stream of swears fading as he walked away.

She didn't wait another second to pull his shirt off of her, balling it up and throwing it on the floor as she hastily shoved the boxers down and kicked them into the corner. She didn't feel comfortable in just her undergarments, but she felt better than she had with Malfoy displayed on her.

Then she felt worse.

Crouching in his dry tub, Hermione hugged her legs to her chest and rocked herself, brushing up against the cold, white porcelain. She wanted to wash the smoke smell off of her. She wanted to scrub at her skin until she couldn't feel him touching it anymore. She wanted to sink down into the warm water and let it hold her the way she wouldn't let him.

But the faucet had no knobs. It only responded to magic and she didn't have a wand.

Her heart plummeted and she merely leaned against the side, letting the empty shell of the tub take the heat from her racing blood.

When she finally emerged after running her fingers through the knots in her hair and freshening up with some of the potions by the sink, Hermione looked around to see Draco sprawled out on the chaise, legs spread wide and arms thrown over the back like he didn't have a care in the world.

His eyes traveled down her body and back up again to where she was holding his clothes in a ball in front of her. She threw them at him as hard as she could and they landed messily in his lap.

Draco picked up the shirt with one finger and smirked. "Like you better like this anyways."

Hermione glared at him and marched over to the dresser and pulled open a drawer, ripping out one of the white undershirts in there. She quickly pulled it on. It was much longer than the Quidditch shirt and came to rest halfway down her thighs. Still shorter than she preferred to wear her skirts, at least it didn't have his name on it.