A/N: I don't own Harry Potter

This is for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Writing Club October

Amber's Attic: 19 -The Congress-Plaza Hotel, Chicago, Illinois: Write about a place with a dark history. Alt: (au) gangster

Press Play: 10 - (trait) Anxious

Lyric Ally: 15 - 'Cause they've all gone away

Sophie's Shelf: 19. Chimay Red: (colour) Scarlet

Warning: Fade to black

Word Count: 484

Hermione stood at the gate, her suitcase in hand.

"I don't know, Draco. I don't know if I can handle living here," she stated. Draco nodded taking her free hand.

"Hermione, I've redone the Manor three times, short of actually destroying it. I've replaced everything that was replaceable. I want you to feel at home here."

"How can I? Even now, I can see her face, hear her voice," Hermione admitted setting her suitcase down and looking at the scars on her arm. No one had managed to fully heal them; the word 'MUDBLOOD' would forever mar her skin.

"Please, one night. I'm asking you to stay one night, if you can't, if it's too much for you, I'll sell the Manor. We can move someplace else. This house means a lot to me, though."

"I know Draco," she whispered giving him a quick kiss. "Alright, one night. You'll be there so maybe it won't be so bad." Draco led Hermione through the gate, holding her hand tightly. He knew the trauma she'd suffered here. He remembered the murders that had been committed on these grounds. He pushed the images from his mind. He'd done everything he could to replace as much of the Manor as possible, anything to try and make it livable again. Maybe that had been a mistake. Maybe the memories were too strong, something that couldn't be lessened with a fresh coat of paint and some pretty new drapes.

He pushed the front door open and they stepped inside. He could feel Hermione tense next to him.

"That's new," she commented looking at a painting.

"It is, I bought it off an unknown artist in Paris. Do you like it?"

"I do, Draco. Think we could bring it to the new house?"

"If need be, yes. The painting can move with us. Would you like to see our room?" Draco asked. Hermione nodded slowly biting her lower lip. Draco couldn't help but think how attractive he found this nervous habit of hers. He led her up the stairs and pushed open a door.

"This is our bedroom suite, Hermione." The room had a large bed in the middle surrounded by heavy looking scarlet curtains. The sheets were maroon with silver stripes; a perfect blend of their houses. The furniture was a deep cherry wood, the walls were cream, and whole room just screamed wealth. Hermione felt her breath catch.

"It's beautiful," she whispered. She ran over to the bed and jumped on it causing Draco to laugh.

"Does it meet your approval?" he asked.

"Yes, should we try out the bed?" she asked smiling at him.

"If you'd like, or we could see the rest of the house?"

"Maybe we could continue the tour later?" Hermione asked patting the bed next to her. Draco nodded joining her.

"Later sounds fine," he agreed as she pulled the curtains closed around them.