One Bite ✔️ (#Wattys2017)

Chapter 4-...

Draco could see her watching him, closely, from the corner of his eye. Part of him was curious at her observation of himself while the other part wanted to crawl away. He was never used to this much attention, having lived in the Underworld for most of his immortal life thus far. Draco couldn't deny, though, that he was enjoying the attention he was getting from the goddess of spring. If this was the only attention he would ever receive from her in his lifetime, then he would bask in it for however long she would give it to him.

Suddenly, he held his arm out to her. Hermione stared at the limb as if it was some exotic Ethiopian and then back up to the god's eyes.

At this, Draco commented, "On Hogwarts, do the gods not do this to escort this young goddess before me?"

She shook her head, "Mother does not even like it when gods talk to me much less touch me."

Draco laughed, "That sounds about like my dear sister," he said.

He slowly reached out for her hand, dangling by her side. She quickly hid it behind her back, her eyes glancing at him with confusion. He gave a small smile, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I don't trust you," she murmured.

"Maybe you should start to."

And he slowly reached for the hand, hidden behind her back. His warm breath tickled her neck and her bare shoulders and she gave a shaky sigh. Hermione could feel her skin crawl, but her mind only thought it was out of revulsion.

His cold hand grasped hers and Draco, experimentally, ran his thumb over the skin. He was amazed by how soft and warm they were.

"Are you always this cold?" she asked, her voice slightly shaking.

"Yes," he smiled and took her hand and placed it inside his arm.

"Why?"

"I don't think you want to know," and he gently began to pull her down the hallway, her body brushing up against his own.

"Tell me," her voice was strong and powerful.

Draco gave into its power and spoke, "I-I don't really know love, I've never loved nor been loved," he confessed.

"So you would have been forcing me into a loveless binding ceremony?" she spat out and Draco could feel the hateful fire spilling from her eyes toward him.

He gave a sigh and slightly nodded, "Yes, but, I believe we would have learned to love each other," and he quickly added, "Eventually."

"How long would eventually be?" she mused as her eyes connected with his for only a moment.

He surprised her by actually answering her, "Maybe sooner than you would have thought," he responded, "From what I can tell, we are very similar."

She giggled lightly and it was like music to his ears, but it was sarcasm that dripped from mouth like poison, "Very similar? I highly doubt it."

She definitely is a rose, he thought, thorns and all, and that was exactly what he wanted in a queen and wife and maybe even a lover. He smiled at that thought, but it quickly faded with what she spoke next.

"One, I don't abducted people. Two, I don't force them into a marriage," and that shut him up.

Point one for me, she thought.

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The gardens, if one could even call it that, were beautiful and, as Hermione looked out at the growing life, Hermione found that the garden was hardly even a garden. The layout was extreme, for even her mother's own standards. Exotic flowers and trees bloomed everywhere and it reminded the goddess of springtime of the glorious pictures she had seen in books about the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. At this, Hermione found the perfect word to describe this overflowing plot of life: oasis.