When We Were Beasts

Before: Part Thirteen

It's a Christmas miracle! Posting a day early for the holiday :)

TW: Vomit. for those who have bilimia or are anorexic Hermione does make herself throw up this chapter.
Also, ironically, here comes the spice!

Malfoy stopped chewing. She heard him smell the food again, and she flinched as something slapped against the wall with a wet sound. Malfoy screamed out a curse.
Hermione scrambled backwards, away from the poison and away from the call to continue to eat eat eat-

"Granger," Malfoy's voice had gone cold. "You have to make yourself throw up. Do it."

Hermione whimpered as her limbs seemed to loosen and relax. A warmth spread from her lower stomach.

"Granger!" He shouted. "We only have seconds!"

With shaking fingers, Hermione lodged two of them as far into her throat as they would go before she gagged involuntary. Nothing but hot spit rose out of her.

Hermione tried thrice more before her body became so light and airy she couldn't remember why she was doing this in the first place.

"Malfoy?" She whimpered.

"You have to resist." He growled out. His words caressed her bare skin, even when he wasn't near her his voice melted something inside her. Hermione shivered.

Resist what? Hermione wondered.

Hermione licked her lips and pressed her thighs together as the warmth that swirled in her stomach spread downward. It blossomed into her core, demanding friction and movement. She bit the inside of her cheek and pressed her hands to her forehead.

No no no no-

She could no longer focus on anything but Malfoy's scent - crisp apples and frosted musk and dark sin - and the hot desire to wrap it around her skin like a coat.

Hermione was cold, and Draco Malfoy could make her warm.

Every fantasy she'd had of him flashed across her closed eyelids like flashing lights, each one naughtier than the one before. Hermione whimpered again as her fingernails scraped against the stone.

Her mind focused on every detail of Malfoy that she hadn't even realized she'd catalogued before. How his hair was like white silk in the light, and his features so sharp she wanted to slice herself on them, and then thank him for the privilege. The way he moved with a confidence that came with old money and powerful status,as if the world belonged to him from the moment he was born and it would be his until he died. She recalled his eyes, and the way they balanced between grey and blue, the sky in January morphed into two orbs.

And that was the horror about Amortentia. These were all things Hermione had already thought about Malfoy- just in fleeting, unimportant moments.
She did want him. She did think he was attractive. And the love curse exploited that- it made her focus on nothing but this version of Malfoy that had no flaws, only marble smooth perfection.

Hermione heard the sound of shuffling come closer to her.

"Come here." Malfoy's voice was different. It was huskier, darker. Hermione felt all of her will to fight ebb out of her.

"M-Malfoy?" Hermione whispered. She moved her hands in front of her until she found his waiting palms.

That touch alone sent electricity through her veins. Her heart pounded as that heat continued to collect and build in her core.

"I can't fight it anymore." His lips were dangerously close, given that his breath danced along her face. She leaned in. "I-I want you."

"Don't fight it," Hermione found herself saying. Her fingers moved on their own volition, grazing his chest and collarbones. His skin prickled from her touch. "I'm ready for you, Draco."