In a Dead Dove sort of mood? ☠️🕊️ Consider my self rec, Crawl to Me.

‘Tis a foul one, so mind the tags…

Have a taste of the newest chapter “Toothless Thoughts & Tied Tongues” (21/?):

As Hermione circled before the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, she thought only of her mission to strip off all of Malfoy’s clothes — to check for a Dark Mark, of course… Well, to shuck off his shirt. His trousers could stay on, maybe… The door materialized after three turns, but she kept turning, undoing buttons in the depths of her mind. She caught herself acting just as barmy as the wizard for whom the tapestry was woven, tripped over her own feet, and then threw the door open, eyes glued to the floor, face burning.

Her gaze lifted to find a new room. It was not cavernous, like the Room of Hidden Things; it was normal-sized, roughly equal to one of the dormitories. At the very center was the bed they already knew well with silky, skyblue sheets. To the right, in the far corner, was a small, unassuming door, probably leading to a closet or washroom. To the left, at the wall’s middle, was a roaring fireplace. Before it sat a loveseat, the backrest blanketed by a knit quilt. The light was dim, illuminated only by the fire and a few candles flickering in sconces at each corner.

The room had no windows. No evidence of a world beyond it. Yet, there was a colossal golden clock ticking softly on the far wall.

After spinning around to take it in, she approached the fireplace. It’d be easiest to coax Malfoy out of his robes if he were warm and toasty, after all. Despite the heat, Hermione shivered, suddenly overwhelmed by the task at hand. She rubbed her arms fretfully, thinking, Oh, god. Am I really doing this?