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1624 pages, ebook
First published March 14, 2024
"Burn me. Love me. Fuck me."

"Don't worry, Granger, I'll make it good for you." He kissed the top of her head and breathed in deeply. "My sweet girl. I could never stay mad at you, could I?" No… and she couldn't stay mad at him either. "Not when you look up at me with those big eyes of yours and tell me how badly you want my big cock in your tight little-"
Hermione shoved herself away from him violently, almost falling off the side of the bed. Draco watched her scramble as she righted herself back onto the bed, laughing in her face.
"Granger… Please tell me we are not going to be thinking about Potter all afternoon. He's so fucking boring. 'I'm sad because my parents are dead.' Great, it's not like you ever fucking knew them anyways. 'There's an evil man trying to kill me.' He's trying to kill everyone, you're not that special. 'My scar hurts.' Would you like another? I swear Granger, you have the stupidest fucking friends and I hung out with Crabbe and Goyle for six years."
That bitch. That goddamn stuck up motherfucking bitch. That fucking Mud-
Draco turned the bottle back up again, swallowing down another mouthful before slamming it down on his desk again, gasping and wincing against the harsh burn in his chest. It would fade. The more he drank, the easier it got and the whisky moved in filling up all the shattered little cracks inside him that the fucking cunt in his bed had opened up again when she shoved him away.
Draco's mind was nothing but white walls and red pain. It was so simple, so clear. Natural. He emptied his pain into Yaxley. And it felt good.
He would get Granger's location one way or another. He had just hoped it wouldn't have included torturing and maiming one of her friends, but… the bitch shouldn't have run.
All the irking doubts that plagued him washed away in the warm bath and Draco pulled her close to him again, pressing her thin frame into his scarred chest in a loving embrace, burying his face in her neck and breathing in her sweet smell of cinnamon and vanilla that was still present under all the dirt and blood.
Still the same. Still his girl. His good, sweet girl.
"I know what you don't want," his words came slowly, weighed down by the whisky. "You don't want... someone like me- to love you." He looked over his shoulder, glaring at her with bloodshot eyes. "But I do. So you're just going to have to find a way to live with it, Granger, because I'll love you till the day I die. Probably after too."
Why was he attacking his own blood to spare hers?
Because even though she was a goddamn fucking Mudblood who didn't deserve half of the mercy he'd show her, he'd be damned if he let anyone else touch her.
By the time Draco was done, Theo was broken, loose and barely held together by his discolored skin, and bleeding freely from his ears, nose, mouth, and eyes.
Draco didn't let go.
He held the curse until it was jerking Theo's dead body in a sick parody of life.
This was his future.
A body.
A boy.





"But I found you, kitten." His easy smirk was back. "I found you and brought you here and you… you think you're going to leave, but you're not."

He had his study for business and meetings while his bedroom stayed private. Even so, he had made it safe, replacing the locks with goblin wrought iron that was charmed to keep anyone but himself out. It had cost him of course, but it was worth it for her.
And she didn't fucking care.
What a selfish, ungrateful bitch.


"Draco-"
"Right here, kitten," he breathed out into her ear, running his tongue along the shell of it. "Right fucking here."
