BANG, BANG, BANG!
Stone walls trapped me, and it was coming for me.
BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG!
The banging grew louder and faster until the sound reverberated through the walls and into my bones.
BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG!
I couldn't hear my own heart, but I could feel it damn near pounding out of my chest.
Hands reached around my neck, and I tried to scream. Nothing but painful gasps of air escaped my lips as the hands closed in on my airways.
I awoke with a start, finishing the hoarse scream I'd been dreaming of. The room was dark and empty, but I did not feel alone.
I pulled my knees to my chest and held my legs for a while, waiting for my heart rate to return to normal.
How many times had I had this nightmare recently? Four, five, maybe six times?
It never got any easier.
I swallowed with discomfort and realized I really must have been screaming. I checked my phone, 1:30 AM, great…
I needed water—no, honey—something to soothe my raw vocal cords. Decision made, I slid into my slippers and threw on my silk robe over my pajamas. Neither did much to protect me from the chilly air.
I cautiously turned the knob to exit my room, feeling much like I was back at Hogwarts, sneaking around; yet somehow, that had been exciting, and this was terrifying.
I stuck my head out of my room and listened, for what? I didn't know. What was I afraid of? There were only two other beings in this Manor, and neither wanted to hurt me—at least, I didn't think they did. I could be wrong…
I readied my wand just in case.
Deciding which route to take, I turned left toward the Master Suite. Music broke the foreboding silence as I approached the hallway overlooking the ground floor.
The clear notes of a piano swam through the air, growing slightly louder as I reached the overlook. I paused, listened, and remembered Seraphina Thurkell's love story.
James Malfoy would write her piano songs and play them for her in the music room. For a brief moment, I wondered if this was him, his ghost, returning to play another song for his love.
Determined to find out, I started sprinting across the overlook, across the drawing room, and then up the North Wing of the grand staircase.
I paused to catch my breath on the landing, then opened the double doors leading to the bar. I entered on tip-toes and walked several feet before I realized the music had stopped.
Now, I was creeping in eerie silence toward the music room entrance.
I raised my wand as I continued in and toward the piano. Its position in the windowed alcove with its lid open made it impossible to see if anyone was seated on its bench.
I got closer, breath coming out in irregular trembles as I rounded the grand piano.
Finally, I turned, wand pointed.
Empty.
The bench was empty.
Impossible .
Someone had just been playing. I should have seen them leave. The hairs stood on the back of my neck, and I looked around, holding my breath so that I could hear any movement.
"Hello?" I called out into the darkness, "Malfoy?"
The silence that followed was deafening.
"This isn't funny," I stated, noticing my breath appear in front of me.
I moved toward the back exit of the music room and shivered at the bitter chill and dancing shadows that seemed just out of sight.
I considered going down the narrow stairwell that led all the way down to the laundry room when the creak of floorboards sounded behind me.
I whipped my wand around, preparing to cast a protective charm or jinx.
But again, there was nothing.
My breaths grew ragged and heavy as I whipped the light of my wand left and right, double-checking and triple-checking that no one was in the room with me.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath; this place was so fucking creepy.
Having had enough, I half-scurried through the bar and toward the South side of the grand staircase, continuing to whirl my wand around.
The balls of my feet hardly touched each step as I hurried down toward my room, water and honey long forgotten.
Just as the stairs turned and the first-floor landing of the South Wing came into view, I turned back to look over my shoulder, ensuring no one was behind me. Then, I collided with something hard. My balance faltered, and my body tilted back toward the stairs when warm arms reached around me.
I panted out, gasping tufts of air, as my heart raced to keep up with my raging anxiety, and I latched onto whatever I'd run into. I faintly acknowledged a tingling sensation above my upper lip as lightheadedness swooped in and my vision blurred.
I couldn't get air, I couldn't, I-I couldn't breathe. I was trying, but nothing was working! My lungs were desperate, but I couldn't get them to fill!
"It's okay, you're okay, breathe." A familiar voice with an unfamiliar tone whispered.
Every attempt to catch my breath halted as recognition slowly seeped into every part of my body. My hands were on his exposed hips, my body pressed against his bare chest, and his hands on my back held me firmly in place.
I shuddered at the realization and was set free, his arms unwrapping and his feet stepping back.
"Malfoy," I whispered, hardly able to make out the word through my fruitless attempts to take in air.
Hot sweat beaded down my forehead, and I thought his fingers were on my face—maybe I wanted them to be. I tried to face him, but he kept…moving, all three of him. I couldn't focus, and I still couldn't breathe.
"You need to lie down," he urged as my vision faded to black, "Let's get you to bed…."
His voice drifted away into the darkness, and so did I.
Xxx
I woke up still exhausted and checked my phone.
11:30 AM
"Merlin!" I must have slept through all of my alarms.
I briefly panic, sitting straight up before remembering where I am.
There's a full glass of water on my small bedside table. I don't know how it got there, and I don't care; I desperately need hydration.
I chug it down, and it refills again. Curious…
I drink some more and think back to the night before.
"Fuck me," I spew, water spraying everywhere as I piece together what I could of my run-in with Malfoy last night.
Had I seriously fainted? Is that what I'm doing now? Running around like a scared little kid, having a panic attack, and FAINTING ?
Despite oversleeping, I took my sweet time showering and getting ready. I wasn't prepared to face Malfoy yet.
Xxx
When I finally showed my face in the library, Malfoy wasn't around the fireplace, but I could hear him.
Rapid and angry French sounded from the South Wing by the desk. Curiosity getting the best of me, I mosied on over.
Malfoy paced circles beside the desk, angrily throwing his hand in the air and yelling at someone on the phone.
Careful not to alert him to my presence, I tiptoed back to the sofa and picked up where I left off in my reading.
Eventually, he joined me, sitting in his usual chair, and I pretended not to notice. He was clearly in no mood for pleasantries.
Over the next few hours, he answers three more phone calls, each seemingly escalating his frustration.
After the last, he huffs toward the sofa, fingers running through his already disheveled hair. He sits down on the left side of the sofa with an exasperated groan before turning to face me. Again, I do my best to act like I don't notice.
"Somehow, I'm helping you with your work, and no one is fucking helping me with mine," he groans.
"Say the word, and I'll call my team, Malfoy. Oh, that's right. You didn't want their help." I quip back smartly, not taking my eyes away from my reading.
If I looked up, he might have seen straight through me to my thoughts of our last encounter on this sofa, his hands on my hips. I didn't need to look to know he was glaring at me right now.
"I'm going into the office." He states, jumping up.
"What?!" I asked, surprised and, for some odd reason, displeased that he was considering leaving me here alone. "Surely you have enough people on your payroll; they can manage."
"It must be nice being the Golden Girl. Having everything you do, every choice you make venerated and applauded." He sneered, towering over me.
Where the bloody fuck did that come from?
"Excuse me?! What's got your wand in a knot?! What's SO important that you have to leave right this second?"
"Do you know how hard it is to reinvent yourself, your name, your worth when you have this—" he rips open the sleeve of his shirt, sending a cufflink flying across the room, and brandishes his faded dark mark. "On your arm? In a city you once helped sack?" he yelled before seething. "Of course not. Finally, something perfect, know-it-all Granger can't wrap her head around."
I purse my lips, considering pulling out my wand as he continues.
"No matter how successful a businessman I am, how much money I have, or what I've done to separate myself from my past and upbringing, I am fighting tooth and nail against memory and disdain. My own father's death can't even buy me an ounce of sympathy here, and you think money could?"
"I only meant—" I stammered, realizing I'd fucked up, pressed the wrong button on the wrong day.
"Meant what, Granger? Meant that I could have someone else run point and make decisions on a project that my reputation here is banking on? Are you mad?" He asked, raising his eyebrows expectantly. "I will see to it that everything goes as planned, personally; I will see to every last detail if I have to, if that's what it takes for this to go well."
Looking down at my hands, I decide between hexing him for speaking to me like that or returning the favor I owe him after last night.
"How can I help?" I ask, boldly looking up to meet his eyes.
"Wh-what are you on about?"
"I'm 'perfect, know-it-all Granger,' surely I can do something. Tell me what it is, I'll do it, and then we can call ourselves even. The sooner, the better; we still have a lot of reading to do."
He narrows his eyes at me and uncrosses his arms.
"I just told you I'm going into the office," he states dismissively, flicking his wand to summon his missing cufflink.
"Fine, I'll come with you then," I offer, standing up, as the silver M comes whizzing past me and into his hand.
"Funny, Granger. As if I'd have the patience to teach you anything," he remarks snidely before entering the fireplace.
Green flames surround him before I can respond, and I growl in annoyance. Merlin, this man was going to be my death.
I paced a circle around the ottoman before stopping in front of the fireplace.
I didn't want to help him. He definitely didn't want my help. And I had no idea what it would entail. But…I was curious. And my curiosity always seemed to get the best of me these days.
I stepped into the fireplace.
Malfoy Industries Diagon Alley
When the flames subsided, I found myself in an extravagantly posh office. I took in the modern decor in shades of gold and black, acknowledging the stark contrast to the Manor's aged style.
I hear Malfoy's voice in the hall and follow it.
Leaving the office, I find him speaking with four suited individuals in a vast marble-floored hallway. My entrance steals the attention of his colleagues, and it doesn't take him long to notice; he turns to face me.
"I'm here," I offer awkwardly, regretting my decision to come.
"I…didn't ask you to be." He replies with stunned annoyance.
Yup, I should have stayed in the library.
"I can't imagine you'll ever have another opportunity to boss me around. It seems like an awful waste," I try to joke, failing to ease the nervous knots in my stomach.
"You being here is a waste of my time." he manages dryly, waving his worker bees away.
"Fuck you, Malfoy."
Did he have to be so rude all the time? I was trying to help, for Godric's sake!
Someone calls his name, and he turns. A short, older woman speaking French at the speed of light approaches him with a clipboard.
He steps toward her, leaving me painfully out of place in the hallway, and responds, matching her speed and intensity.
I step back, admitting defeat and planning to sneak back through the floo.
"Granger," he called to my surprise, "Go help Léontine pick out pieces in the storeroom."
Léontine's confused and disgruntled face makes me think twice.
"Pieces of what exactly?" I question as Léontine and Draco start arguing.
They ignore me and walk down the hallway and a stairwell. I follow cautiously, not sure what I've just gotten myself into but eager to prove myself useful.
We enter a large storeroom filled with racks and racks of designer clothing and accessories. All sample-sized, unique, and stunning.
My jaw drops in amazement as Léontine finally stomps off.
"Léontine is going to get you a rack. Pick out a few stylish looks. Fill the rack, and the pieces will be considered for retail at an event in a few weeks."
"Are you looking for anything in particular?" I question, feeling like I've been given far too little direction.
"Anything you like, what you think people here would wear, what you think is fashionable. I'll come check on you in an hour or so."
I didn't have time to question him before Léontine rammed an empty rolling rack into my ankle.
I cursed and sent her a glare, and he disappeared out of the storeroom.
I took a deep breath before attempting the task by hand. There had to be thousands of individual items here for me to choose from.
Rack by rack, I dug through the clothes, purses, and accessories. They had everything from lingerie to jewelry and shoes. Oh Godric, there were so many beautiful shoes.
Slowly, I picked out a variety of ensembles for various types of occasions.
Léontine stayed with me the whole time, documenting each item I added to my rack on her clipboard. Occasionally, she'd interject with a "Non" and pull things out of my hands. Other times, she'd give approving nods.
I used her, the clear expert here, as my fashion barometer of sorts.
When I'd filled the first rack, I asked for another. She reluctantly fetched me one. Then, when I'd nearly filled the second rack, Malfoy's perturbed voice interrupted us.
"Time for you to go, Granger."
"You're kicking me out?" I retort, not missing a beat.
"Precisely." He stated, tapping his wrist.
I looked for a clock in the room, trying to figure out why I had to leave right this second. I was damn near finished; I just needed a few more minutes.
"Aren't you going to check my work? Since this is SO important." I challenge, still eager to prove I helped.
He rechecks his watch, then releases a frustrated exhale.
"Fine, but then you're leaving."
He leaves the doorway and approaches the first rack of items I'd put together. He sifts through it piece by piece before pulling out a fitted tweed pencil skirt and a coordinating blazer.
"Granger, librarians aren't our typical clientele." He teased.
"Are you kidding me?" I argue, stepping forward to defend my selections. "Sure, you could pair this skirt with that for a formal professional look, but it's so versatile. Look how posh it would be with this silk corseted top."
I hold the top and the skirt together, showing him briefly how right I was before making my next point.
"And this dress, did you even look at the back? It's definitely not librarian-wear." I say, pulling a green silk dress with a high neckline and a plunging back off the rack.
I hold it out for him to see.
"Hmm. Show me." He muses with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"What?"
"Put it on. Quickly," he urges me, waving a finger toward a makeshift changing station, aka a folding divider, by the wall.
"It's not my size." I protest.
Instead of arguing with me, he gets Léontine's attention and tells her to help me put it on. She obeys. Annoyed per usual, she takes the hanger from my hand and motions me toward the divider.
" J'aurai aussi besoin de talons ," I managed to say, pointing to the heels I'd picked out to go with the dress, and she grabbed those too.
I wasn't sample-sized, but Léontine managed to squeeze me in, barely. The dress was as tight as skin and left little to the imagination.
"I can hardly move in this," I admit, stepping out from behind the divider just in time for a familiar face to enter the storeroom.
"Bloody fucking hell. Wow. I knew it!" Theodore Nott's voice rings out with excitement as he walks toward us.
"Fuck," Malfoy swears, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Hello, Theo." I manage as he steps toward me and takes my hand.
"My sincerest apologies for my rude arrival. You look absolutely stunning, phenomenal, truly. You are a rare beauty in Slytherin green," he raved, pausing to kiss my hand. "I knew you'd come around; in fact, I've just won a very lucrative bet with Blaise."
"Theo, go fucking wait outside before I–" Malfoy starts, and I take the opportunity to dart back behind the divider.
"Is your new l' amant not coming to dinner with us? Draco, you can't keep her locked in the Manor forever, you kno—" Theo continues as Léontine carefully peels the dress off of me inch by inch.
" L' amant, that's rich," I call out over the divider. Sorry to disappoint you, Theo, but I'm the furthest thing from Malfoy's ' l' amant .' In fact, he's more like a—" I struggled to remember the word for curse in French. "—une malédiction.
"Okay, now she has to come to dinner. I need all of the juicy details." Theo delights as I start pulling on my regular clothes.
I can't see what's happening, but I imagine it involves Malfoy pointing his wand at Theo.
"Okay, fine, I'll wait outside; there's no need to silence me. Damn." Theo sighs with mock disappointment before bidding me farewell. "Auvoir Hermione, belle malédiction , an absolute privilege as always."
"Goodbye, Theo."
"Fucking hell." Malfoy groans before yelling after Theo, "Don't you dare call Blaise; I'll be out there in 10 seconds."
I finish buttoning my blouse as Léontine and Malfoy argue in speedy whispers nearby. I don't even try to keep up.
"I told you you needed to leave," Malfoy lectures when I come out.
"You're the one who told me to try it on!" I argue after him as he walks toward the exit.
"You're the one who insisted on coming and then needed a bloody review of your work, like a fucking school girl. Now, Theo is likely outside telling one of his side pieces at Witch Weekly some bullshit story about us. Happy?"
He counters as we reenter the marbled hallway and walk toward his office.
"Well, that would make him a very shitty friend, and no, I'm not happy. You never said anything about the dress." I state, bumping into him as we both try to enter his office at the same time.
His throat bobs, but he stops and lets me through.
"Theo's reaction wasn't enough for you?" He finally adds, halting my journey to the fireplace.
I whipped around to face him.
"You can't fucking say it, can you? You can't admit I was right and you were wrong, can you?" I'm yelling now, demanding blood.
"Go home, Granger." He orders me, his voice deepening as he steps closer.
"I'll leave as soon as you admit it!" I step back.
"Go! You insufferable swot. You got what you wanted; now leave!" He growls, again stepping forward and forcing me to step back.
"Or what? Hmm? Or what, Malfoy?" I challenge him as my heels back up onto the marbled hearth.
I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't his hands grabbing me by the hips. It wasn't him stepping forward and aligning his chest with mine. It wasn't his lips centimeters from mine.
"Or I'll tell you exactly how every curve of your body in that dress made me feel. Better yet, I'll show you." He huskily whispered before pushing me into the green flames.
I fall forward to the ground as I return to the Manor alone. Stunned, breathless, and unmistakably aroused.