Eulalia O Fontaine had been plagued with misfortune since the day she was born. Being the first ever Shadow Witch in her long family line of Light Practitioning Mages, her life has always had an abundance of unrest and everything nefarious. Considering her reputation for attracting trouble, it was no surprise when the class golden-boy accidentally involved her in his own troubles with the wicked. Somebody was releasing Hell demons into her school, and of course, she found herself plagued with the problem of stopping them. With the help of her natural enemy, Eulalia finds herself in a race against time. While trying to outsmart fate itself, in order to keep her world safe from dark powers, Eulalia is faced with the realization that her life will never be the same again.

How did it feel? It felt like he was barely holding it together. She, of all people, should shun him. Or yell at him. Curse him. Spit at him. Take out her wand and blast him off the face of the earth. It was crushing guilt and relief and confusion all at once when he looked at Hermione Granger. The monotony of Draco's daily routine had become both a lifeline and a noose. But this new habit of grabbing morning coffee with Hermione Granger is quickly becoming a reason to get out of bed and is unfortunately forcing him to re-evaluate his inconsequential existence. Hermione is living her life in fragments, separate pieces scattered about, and she can't find a way to step back and let the full picture form. Why is morning coffee with Draco Malfoy the only thing that makes sense anymore? *cover art created by @eternallyreadinggoodthings

Post HBP. Ron and Harry are Horcrux hunting and Hermione has been left at Hogwarts to help the Order make it safe for the other students. Draco is forced by Snape to stay in Hogwarts for his own protection, but he can't leave the room he is given; Granger's room. Hermione is the only student trusted with this information, so her and Malfoy share the small space, and Draco tries to avoid insanity as he becomes increasingly isolated with only the Mudblood for company. Something's going to give... Mature content and themes, and explicit language. ✨Feel free to comment✨ ❗Disclaimer: I do not own Isolation❗ The author of this incredible fan fiction is Bex-Chan. All credits go to J.K. Rowling for writing the Harry Potter series and Bex-Chan for writing this Fanfic based off the characters in said series. Here is a link to the original: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/6291747/1/Isolation

Hermione felt the pounding in her ears again. She would see him for the first time since the Great Hall, gaunt and stricken at the Slytherin table with his mother clutching his arm. She hadn't meant to look for him. Not in the corridors, not beneath the white sheets of the fallen, not on the way to the Chamber of Secrets with Ron, but she was a stupid girl.

She's a wild, free spirit who sees the good in everyone, and he's the hardened, bad-tempered loner who wants nothing to do with her-yet no matter how hard he tries to push her away, she's the one temptation he can't escape. *** He's never met someone with such a bubbly personality. Not to mention the wildness and odd phrases she says every five minutes. He hates it. He hates how he can't stay away from it. He hates what she does to him; it's not like him to chase after some girl. She gets under his skin like no other. She's never met someone with such a bad attitude. He's ill-mannered and menacing. The glare never seems to leave his face. Considering it all, she can't help but feel the attraction toward him. Dangerous attraction toward a seemingly dangerous man. Maybe it's the tattoos on his arm that gets her attention. Or maybe it's because she can tell there's hope for good under his rough exterior. And she's about to find it, whether he likes it or not. It's no secret that the two of them are complete and total opposites. *** "You like being called Sugar, don't you?" I tease, placing my toothbrush back after finishing. He does the same and gives me a side-eyed scowl. He grips my chin harshly and kisses me. My body temperature raises a good ten degrees and my right leg goes all wiggly. He pulls away. "You like it when I kiss you, don't you?" He teases the same way I did to him and I'm left blubbering. "I think both of our questions are rhetorical," I lower my voice up at him. His lip curls up into a smirk. *** #1 in Young Adult #9 in Badboy #1 in Cold #3 in Goodgirl #1 in Sweetheart #14 in Love *** *Warning* This story contains mature themes (language, scenes

One of the most powerful man in the world. He was called Octavius. Cruel, coldblooded, and completely unobtainable. The Devil in a Brioni suit. The mere whisper of his name was like lethal poison that burned through the hearts of millions. Penetrating, and clear amber eyes that made grown men weep, and women burned with seduction. Behind the curtains, no one knew what he looked like yet he was always in control. It was a reputation he had fought to establish, one that brought him power, wealth and just about... everything. When a series of unfortunate events lands her into the very strong, powerful arms of Octavius, it was everything she'd been warned about. The beautiful brute, Octavius, moody and controlling in every aspect. She had never met a man as brutal, and stormy as him, someone she couldn't help but sprout wild, random phrases to, and offer hugs. A man that always gets what and who he wants because that's how his life works. Until it doesn't. Until he stumbles into a five-feet angel with the sweetest smile, and adamant about being friends. - preview - "Has any man ever made you so crazy you thought you'd die if you didn't get his cock inside of you? If you couldn't feel his fingers digging into your thighs as he spread you open and devoured you whole? Have you ever come over and over, so hard and so many times you couldn't be sure where one ended and the other began?" His strong, veined hands gripped the backside of my bare thigh, tracing over my skin, itching higher and higher and I could feel a deep ache building inside my lower region. My mouth slacked, at a loss for words, all I could do was whimper softly under his possessive touches. "Answer me." Big, forceful hands caressed my chin, almost gripping my neck, only retracting as I let out a tiny breathless sigh. His dark deep amber eyes were on fire with a carnal sexuality that I had never seen before. "Use your words."