𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 | ᴀ ᴅʀᴀᴍɪᴏɴᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ

Chapter 24

AFTER GINNY LEAVES, I pick up my briefcase and head out the door. To my meeting with the skywriter. I still have to figure out how to get Hermione on the roof. Speaking of Hermione...

Want to swing by her office on the way out? See how her and the good Sister are getting along?

Her door's open. I brace my hands on the frame and lean in. Can you see her through the balloons? Sitting at her desk, with her hands folded on top—a smile stuck on her face as she nods obediently to whatever Sister Beatrice is saying.

"Ladies. How are we doing this afternoon?"

Hermione turns to me. And her voice is strained. "Draco. There you are. I was just thinking about you"—from the way she's gripping her hands together, it looks like she was thinking about strangling me—"while Sister Beatrice here was telling me the fascinating tale of glass houses. And how those of us who live in them shouldn't throw stones."

She's still smiling. But her eyes say something else entirely.

It's a little creepy.

You know in Texas Chainsaw Massacre when the old man smiles just before he slits the girl's throat? Yeah—it's kind of like that.

Sister Beatrice looks at the ceiling. "We are all imperfect in the eyes of the Lord. Hermione, may I use yer facilities, dear? Nature is calling."

"Of course, Sister." They stand, and Hermione opens the door to her adjoining washroom.

And as soon as that door closes, Smiley Hermione goes bye-bye. Mad Hermione takes her place. She marches toward me.

And the balloons run for their lives.

"I'm going to ask you this one time, and if you lie to me, I swear I'll let Ginny poison you."

"Okay."

"Is she a real nun? Or some actress you hired?"

I laugh. I didn't even think of that. "No, she's real."

Hermione is not pleased. "God, Draco! A nun? A fucking nun? This is low. Even for you."

"I think she's technically a Mother Superior now."

I lean in closer to Hermione because...well, just because I can...and the smell of her lotion hits me. Hard. I resist the urge to put my nose against her skin and sniff like a cocaine addict.

"Is there any level you won't sink to, to get your way?"

Nope. Sorry. Not a one. I don't mind getting down and dirty.

Actually, I prefer it that way.

"Desperate times...I had to call out the big guns."

"You want to see guns? As soon as the Flying Nun leaves my office, I'll show you guns! I can't believe—"

God, she's beautiful. I mean, look at her. She's like a volcano going off—fierce and fiery and breathtaking. If she doesn't find a way to ugly herself down, I'm going to be spending an awful lot of time pissing her off.

Which might not be such a bad thing in the end. Angry sex is awesome.

I cut off Hermione's rant. "As titillating as this conversation has been—and believe me, it's been very—I have a meeting to get to."

Before I go, I motion toward her bare neck. "Hey, why aren't you wearing your necklace?"

She folds her arms and smiles proudly. "I donated it to Sister Beatrice. For the less fortunate."