The Fractured Flame | Draco Malfoy Love Story

Chapter Twenty Nine: A Covetous Nature - Mature Read

Draco was quiet, content to run his fingers through her hair as sleep threatened to envelop her. That was until the sound of the floo chimney going off caught their attention. Crookshanks hissed, irritated from being woken up as he huffed, and laid next to Draco's legs.

Hermione looked over to see it was a woman with dark brown hair. She was beautiful with long legs and delicate features. Her brown skirt was short, paired with a white blouse, and a fashionable lighter brown jacket for the fall weather. The woman glanced between Draco casually laying down with the witch half asleep on him. Both half naked.

Her nude colored lips during down in a sneer. "Seriously, Draco? You're too busy to talk some sense into Blaise because you think more with your dick than your brain these days? Seriously where have you been for the past week? I needed you."

I needed you.

I needed you.

I needed you.

The words echoed in her head. Hermione sat up, feeling a strange possessiveness take hold of her.

Who was this?

Why did she have access directly to Draco's bedroom?

And where did she get off thinking she could need her boyfriend?

Hermione's voice was cold, regarding the witch with obvious hostility. "Get out."

A Covetous Nature - Mature Read

The woman with perfectly manicured nails stared at her with her mouth slightly agape. If Hermione had to guess, people didn't often order her around.

"Do you know who I am?" The woman inquired, crossing her arms.

She smiled icily, "Yes, you're the woman who's going to turn around and leave this room."

Hermione heard a quiet, amused snort, but she ignored it. She was mad at him right now too.

"I don't have time for this. Draco, let's go."

The woman took a step forward towards Draco's side of the bed. Hermione held up her hand slightly, nonverbally accio-ing her wand. Unfortunately, she remembered that it was likely with either Harry or Theo since they went to go get it from Borgin earlier.

Still, that didn't stop a wand from flying into her hand.

It was mostly brown, made of Hawthorne wood with a black handle. Hermione recalled something that Ollivander once told Harry when he needed to get his wand repaired.

"A wand made from Hawthorne wood is particularly suited to all kinds of healing magic, but they are also particularly adept at casting curses. Generally, it has been observed that a wand made from Hawthorne seems to be most at home with a wizard who's nature is naturally conflicted or passing through a period of turmoil."

The sharp initials on the handle. DLM.

Pushing down her surprise and glancing at the witch levelly, her voice didn't waver in the slightest. "You don't order him around. Now, would you rather leave on your own accord or would you rather I send you flying through the floo? I've heard St. Petersburg is nice this time of year."