Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

In the Arms of her Dragon	By : Wolf.Blossom Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 101559 -:- Recommendations : 8 -:- Currently Reading : 50
Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter and all characters. I am not making any profit form this fiction.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
In the Arms of Her Dragon
"Why're you crying?" Draco whispered, sitting down beside Hermione in a deserted Great Hall. Looking up at him with puffy eyes, she admitted what happened earlier at the Gryffindor Tower. Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said: "Come on, you're spending the night in the Slytherin dungeon. With me."
.xx.
Hermione was lying on her bed, dazed. Her lips were still throbbing from being kissed rather thoroughly by Draco Malfoy—she could still smell him, feel the strength of his arm as he held onto her; she could still feel the moment. It scared Hermione that she wanted that moment to come back, for kissing Draco had to be the best feeling in the world.
She tossed left, the right, then onto her back. None of the ways she turned helped her beckon sleep any faster. The violet aura of the night sky trickled into the dormitory and all Hermione wanted was to sleep—and be kissed by Draco again.
Wait, what?
Hermione growled and sat up, in utter annoyance. She didn't want to lose sleep over the Slytherin "Prince" who also referred to himself as the "Sex God." (Though as of that moment, Hermione was entertaining what else he could do if he was so talented with his lips). Her eyes, somehow, drifted over to the journal resting on her bedside table and that caused a lump to rise to her throat.
Was she expecting him to write to her?
No. But why am I disappointed that he didn't?
Hermione clenched her sheets. Suck it up, Granger. If you want to talk to him, message him first.
But she wanted him to.
Hermione was ready to scream; her blood pressure was probably through the roof and any possible chance she had of falling asleep was totally gone. Deciding she needed a little walk, Hermione clambered out of bed and grabbed her night robe. A stroll through Hogwarts it was—hopefully she'd run into somebody interesting.
Like Peeves.
Or Moaning Myrtle.
Or maybe… Draco?
.xx.
The walk had cleared Hermione's mind and she was able to return to the tower and sleep… for the two and a half hours she had left of the night. She hadn't bumped into anybody of interest but she had come across the Room of Requirement. Odd, she had thought when she saw the massive doors appear; I thought you only showed up when somebody required you.
Regardless, she had stepped into the Room to find a ginormous library of everything Hermione could think of. She didn't know it could do that, but she took advantage of it anyway. By the time she looked at the grandfather clock she saw it was almost quarter past four in the morning. Putting the book away, she thanked the Room of Requirement in her head before scurrying out and rushing back to the Gryffindor Tower.
Hermione felt like she had just fallen asleep when she felt a giant cushion thrown at her. Spluttering, she sat up suddenly and scanned the dormitory. Scowling, she blew her hair out of her face and glared at a snickering Kellah.
"That was not funny; that could've given me a heart attack!"
"I thought you wanted an early wakeup call for Herbology today." Kellah smirked "followed by Charms, Divination, and Care of the Magical Creatures."
Hermione flopped back onto her bed. "Nobody can be prepared for Care of the Magical Creatures."
"But Hagrid is teaching it."
Fay, who had just walked into the dorm, scowled darkly. "I swear, if a Hippogriff attacks me again!" She didn't complete her phrase but everybody understood what Fay was getting at—poor girl. She was a drama queen, though.
"You and Malfoy both," Hermione shot. Fay rolled her eyes and walked over to her trunk at the foot of her bed to get her uniform for the day.
"If there's anything he and I have in common, it's that."
"And your hatred for Ron." Lavender piped up. Her comment made the girls fall into a fit of giggles.
Hopefully today won't be awkward with him, Hermione thought as she crawled out of bed. She was slightly tired, but she knew exhaustion was going to attack her midway through the day.
Joy.
.xx.
Madam Sprout waddled through the greenhouse with the eighth years towing behind. Neville was the only one that looked excited; everybody else just looked so bored. Of all the eighth years, Draco Malfoy looked the most annoyed—not that Hermione was watching him or anything.
And she wasn't aware of how he didn't even so much as make eye contact with her.
Foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach. Hermione insulted bitterly whilst contemplating whether she should complete that moment of 'nostalgia' with the infamous punch.
"Look," Ron nudged Hermione who stopped walking to look at what he was looking. She missed the look that flashed through Draco's eyes when he passed the two friends right at that moment. "A Jupiter Fly Trap!"
Hermione's eyes bugged. "A what?"
Ron and Hermione inched closer and Harry, from the sidelines, called out: "Don't get too close, it likes to eat human hair!"
Hermione immediately zipped back and Ron burst into laughter. "I don't have hair long enough to- AHHH GET IT OFF!"
Lavender burst into laughter. "Yeahhh! Eat off that ginger hair, good plant!" Behind her the Slytherins were cackling and Madam Sprout was running forward to wrestle the plant off of her student. Harry couldn't help but laugh as well—the sight was to die for. Hermione stared in horror, knowing that it could've been her in the clutch of an evil Jupiter Fly Trap.
"Oww! OWW! GET OFF ME YOU BLOODY PLANT—HEY, WATCH THE EAR!"
Madam Sprout pulled out her wand, waved it, and immediately the plant let go of Ron. It sounded like it was whimpering while it coiled back into its clay pot. "Damn bloody—don't hiss at me!" Ron snarled.
"Yelling at a plant won't do much for you, Plant Food." Draco called out. "Aren't you glad you got away sooner, Granger? If that thing got tangled up in your hair we'd have to shave it all off to get it out."
"Put a sock in it, Malfoy." Harry muttered. "Remember: house unity. Be civil."
"Civil is not part of his everyday vocabulary," Padma murmured as she walked by them with her sister linked around her arm. "I don't even think he knows what that means."
Draco's eyes narrowed. "Civil, adjective, originated between 1350 and 1400 rooted from the Latin word cīvīlis. The definition that pertains to us is to be polite and courteous. Synonyms include: respectful, deferential, gracious, complaisant, suave, affable, urbane, and courtly. Is that good enough for you, Patil?"
Harry simply gawked at Draco as everybody struggled to shut their slack jaws. "If you weren't blond and flat-chested, I would've thought you were Hermione. That was… so… Hermione!"
Draco raised an eyebrow and Susan Bones bit her tongue in laughter. "Flat-chested, Harry?"
Harry looked at Susan, then Hermione, and then back to Draco. "Well Hermione did go through an impressive post-puberty growth stage."
"Students! May we please continue our lesson?" Madam Sprout roared as Hermione murmured:
"And get off the topic of my 'impressive post-puberty stages'."
.xx.
There was a two hour break between Herbology and Charms so Hermione decided to take the opportunity to get some studying done, as always. Kellah promised she'd smack Harry for making the impressive post-puberty stage comment but Hermione said to drop it—she had other means of punishing Harry for what he said. Refusing to help him study for their NEWTs would be apt castigation.
Last Hermione knew, Ron was attempting to get Lavender to talk to him but Fay and Kellah were acting as her sentries. Hermione had a very funny mental image of Kellah and Fay dressed up in suits of armour glaring down at a quivering Ron.
Hermione skipped steps on her way up to the library when her journal, which was the first book in the stack of four in her hands, began heating up. Her heart jumped to her throat but she decided to let him wait—let him sit there and stare at his journal for the time it took her to get to the library, find an empty seat, sit down, get settled, find the books on the shelves that she required, return, and get comfortable.
That was what he was going to have to go through for not even acknowledging her.
Ahh who was she kidding! Hermione couldn't wait that long herself; as she continued on her trek to the library, she flipped the journal open.
You mad, Granger?
Hermione simply gawked at what he wrote. Was she mad?! Of course she wasn't mad! She was just very… disappointed…
Yeah.
Disappointed.
She couldn't walk and write so she shut the journal and filed in the back of her mind to write back to Malfoy. He could wait that long, at least. Why was he asking if she was mad when he hardly made eye-contact with her? Hermione's shoulders slumped; alright, she was partially at fault, too. She hadn't written to him and she was expecting him to contact her. Her thought-process was slightly sexist and Hermione couldn't help but feel ashamed.
Though, it would've been a wonderful surprise if he did write to her earlier.
What was she expecting? That he pull her into a dark corner of the castle and kiss her till her lips bruised?
Yeah, that'd be nice too.
Fairy tales, Hermione thought, it only happens in fairy tales and fables. Doesn't happen in real life and what are you even thinking?! Draco Malfoy! Draco-bloody-Malfoy! We're just friends. Yes, we kissed… but that's what promoted our frenemyship to friendship, right? Ugh, why am I over thinking—
Her over-thinking was cut short when she was pulled into a dark corner of the castle. The first thought that crossed her mind was that Peeves was going to shove her in to the wall and she'd have to find a way to get out of the wall. She was, however, pleasantly surprised when the delightful familiar scent of Draco Malfoy filled her senses.
"I said, you mad, Granger?" His voice was so close; his body enveloped hers as she was pressed against the cold stone wall of the castle. Her books were crushed between their bodies and she had enough room to move to look up at Draco's stormy grey eyes.
"Why would I be mad?" She managed to raise an eyebrow. "I'm a tad bit annoyed that you stopped me on route to the library. Don't you have somebody else to harass?"
His chest rumbled which translated to a sensual chuckle that came from the back of his throat. "Pansy isn't nearly as fun as you are."
Hermione's eyebrows both shot up. "She isn't, is she? Perhaps you should acquaint yourself more with her. Whispers in the corridors claim that she's quite the vixen and has a sadistic sense of humour."
"Sadistic sense of humour? Possibly. But vixen? Who the bloody hell is whispering? Diggory?"
"He's dead."
"Precisely."
Hermione shook her head and attempted to shove Draco out of the way. "If you're done bugging me, I really must get some reading done before—"
He silenced her inane babbling with his lips on hers.
Hermione was expecting yet not expecting for something like that to happen. Regardless, she melted into the kiss and began responding positively. The ethereal sensation was back, the fireworks, the 'world-stop-spinning-around-them' feeling. Hermione was close to dropping her books so that she would be able to clutch Draco's robes but managed to hold onto some ounce of control. Slowly, Draco pulled away from the kiss and pecked her lightly.
"Still mad?"
Hermione blinked as she stared into his eyes. "I was never angry to begin with. But thanks for checking, prat." She smacked him with her textbooks. Puffing her chest out in mock annoyance, Hermione began to stomp off to the library when she heard her companion call out:
"I thought women were dainty creatures that couldn't hurt a fly and the men were the aggressive type."
"Let's see you try to be aggressive with me, ferret!"
The echoes of his laughter followed Hermione to the library.
.xx.
Professor Flitwick was standing atop a stack of books and was lecturing the eighth years on the values and ethics of proper charm casting. All the while the students were not paying attention and were either chitchatting quietly, or in the case of Draco and Hermione, writing in their journals.
I can be aggressive. Just not in the hurt-you kind. Well, you still would get hurt, but it's the good kind of hurt.
Hermione could only stare at what he wrote. Are you seriously implying that you're aggressive in bed…?
Your words, not mine, bookworm.
Really? I take it you learned everything you know from the Malfoy in Hufflepuff?
She looked up in time to see him smirk at what she wrote.
He learned everything he knows from me.
Hermione glanced over at Fay who had begun painting her nails; obviously her tablemate was not paying any attention to her so Hermione turned back to her journal.
You know, with all this talk about the imaginary Draco in Hufflepuff, I wouldn't be surprised if some people actually assumed it was true. Hermione jumped when she saw Fay move beside her. The latter girl was actually moving to yawn but it caused the e in the word true to be slightly askew.
Fay made that up, not me.
Her measly attempt to cover up our conversation, I assure you.
You still have to introduce me to this 'Malfoy,' bookworm.
Tonight. Flying lesson time.
No response came from him so Hermione glanced up. There, leaning back in his seat and smirking like the man that he was, was Draco Malfoy. He was beaming with pride and it took all the control she had to not throw a crumpled piece of parchment at him. His egotistical attitude ground on her nerves so badly but, in the back of her mind, she knew that was a quality of his that drew her to him.
Who knew that being cocky and egotistical would attract Hermione?
Not Hermione, that's for sure.
Hey, I have a question… actually; I've been pondering this since first year. Draco wrote to Hermione.
Staring blankly at her journal, Hermione took a moment before writing her response: Yes, Malfoy, I use conditioner.
She looked up in time to see his stupefied face.
… you do? I mean, that wasn't my question but dear Merlin! What does it look like without—actually, I don't want to know. Hermione knew he was teasing; he only told her last night that he really loved her hair. What I wanted to ask is what books do you think Flitwick stands on? I'm pretty sure they're the same ones he's been standing on since he started teaching.
He had a good point and, since Hermione was the golden student, decided she'd figure it out. Interrupting the professor midway through his "ethical procedures to conduct charms" lecture, Hermione inquired about the books.
"Professor! I was wondering if there was a textbook somewhere that outlined everything you're telling us?"
Everybody stopped their chatter to look at her, all thinking the same thing: What the Voldemort? She wasn't asking anything of importance… and that was so unlike Hermione Granger. If there was a textbook regarding the rubbish Flitwick was going on about, Hermione should know. In fact, she'd probably know before the Professor even knew.
Flitwick cleared his throat. "I'm afraid not, Miss Granger."
She, discreetly, looked over at Draco. He sat up straight and called out the next part of what the question he really wanted answered: "What about the books you always stand on?"
Ron coughed in an effort to hide his laughter. Flitwick blinked before looking down at the stack. "These? These old things are outdated editions of Hogwarts: A History."
All eyes turned to Hermione as she gasped with horror and, unintentionally, Draco burst into uncontrollable laughter. He was not expecting that answer at all. Hermione looked like she was about to die—her whole world probably crushed down onto her shoulders. Her beloved Hogwarts: A History was being used as a stool.
For Flitwick.
Oh, the justice behind how the world worked was priceless. Well, in Draco's opinion at least.
"Now, if that answers your question Miss Granger," Flitwick continued his lecture. Fay elbowed Hermione.
"You alright?"
Hermione nodded, slowly. "Yeah just… was not expecting that."
"Serves you right for asking a stupid question." Fay rolled her eyes and went back to maintaining her nails. Hermione turned her attention to her journal in time to feel it heat up; Draco's words began to bleed onto the page.
Well… that was interesting. And not expected.
This is your entire fault. I feel like all that I've known is a lie.
Because Flitwick is standing on a stack of your favourite books?
That's the history of Hogwarts! It's almost religious! Wait, no, it is religious.
You need to get laid, Granger.
MALFOY!
Why, need help?
MALFOY!
Good, you're already practicing how to scream my name ;)
Hermione stared blankly at her journal before looking up to glare, with all the force she could muster up, at a smug looking Draco. He was digging his own grave and was already five of the six feet in.
I'll take that as my queue to shut up?
Yes.
Gotcha, bookworm.
Stop calling me that.
Alright, bush-bush.
"What the bloody—" Hermione said aloud before catching herself. She regained composure and looked both ways to see if anybody heard her—thankfully nobody did. Fay idly glanced at her and assumed that Hermione had read something she didn't agree with in her book and returned her attention back to her nails.
Draco was trying hard not to burst into uncontrollable laughter, again. Oh, how he loved teasing Granger.
She was just so teaseable.
.xx.
"She predicated you were gonna date a dragon!" Kellah howled as the girls lounged in their dormitory late into the evening. They had back-to-back classes right after Charms (Divination and Care of the Magical Creatures) so they were unable to talk about the things they saw, heard, and witnessed in class.
"She. Thought. You. Are. Going. To. Date. A. Dragon. She's lost it; officially lost it." They were talking about Trelawney… and her amazing prediction-making skills. Kellah still couldn't get over the fact that the crazy psycho fortune-telling professor foresaw Hermione dating a dragon.
Fay looked up from writing some Potions notes to give her two-cents. "Isn't it weird though? Trelawney's prediction matches the dumb song the Sorting Hat sung earlier this week."
Parvati's eyes widened and the look on her face was as if the meaning of life had just been discovered. "You're right!" She breathed, enthusiastically.
"So you expect me to believe that Trelawney and the Sorting Hat have a torrid love affair and they've both agreed to team up to have me go crazy because apparently I'm dating a dragon?" Hermione said in one breath as she gave her friends a deadpan look. "Let me just Floo Charlie in Romania and get him to ship over Harry's Hungarian Horntail from the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Sound good? Then he and I can have some tea at Madam Puddifoot's."
"Sounds like a foolproof plan." Lavender piped and Hermione's eye twitched. "And if it doesn't work out between you and the Horntail, we can always make it go after Ron."
"We are not seriously having this conversation."
"Yes, we are." Fay grinned stupidly. "But feel free to change the topic."
"Okay," Hermione had an evil glint in her eyes. "About that Draco Malfoy in Huffl—"
"SHUT UP, HERMIONE!"
.xx.
Hermione was beginning to wonder how often she could use the 'I-need-to-study-so-I'm-going-to-go-to-the-library -tonight' excuse to see Draco before her friends became suspicious. On her way out of the common room, she was met with Ron and Harry playing chess. Ron asked her how long it was going to take the girls to forgive him and start talking to him properly once again, and Hermione responded with: "When you grow up."
Harry chortled unintentionally and Ron shot him a nasty glare before icily commanding: "Rook to E7."
Harry gawked as his Queen was taken down—how did he overlook Ron's rook?! Hermione took that opportunity to make her great escape and hurry on over to the library to "study."
Was it the thrill of befriending somebody that was considered taboo to her friends that kept her wanting to see Draco?
Or was it the fact that he made her feel things she never did before. Sure, she felt safe with Ron and Harry growing up but it was more like a brotherly type of safe. The two were always there to ensure that she got out of sticky situations… as she instructed them on how to perform spells properly so she wouldn't get blown into bits as they attempted their heroic rescue.
But with Draco—
With Draco she felt a different kind of safe, which was unusual because he was the bad guy for the majority of their time at Hogwarts. But he made her feel so safe, as if nothing could harm her. Just feeling his arms around her was enough for her to know everything was going to be okay. Was it because she knew that he cared enough to take Bellatrix's Crucio? Or was it because she knew that he cared enough to continue caring after the fact?
Whatever it was, Hermione never wanted it to end.
As she was lost in thought, Hermione missed the sound of something whizzing towards her. She stumbled back when a gust of air rushed past her; looking up she saw a smirking Draco mounted on Lightyear.
"Thought I'd meet you halfway, bookworm," he said playfully as he manoeuvred Lightyear closer to her. He held his hand out to help her onto the broom, just in front of him, and when their hands touched they both felt that familiar sizzle.
It was a feeling that neither could ever get used to but loved every moment of it.
When Hermione was safely seated in front of him, and he secured her with one of his arms snaking around her waist, Draco sped off. He weaved through the corridors and made it to the moving staircases before it shot straight up—Draco was taking it to the top floor.
"Where're we going?" Hermione asked. She was looking over her shoulder to see Draco's eyes furrowed; he was concentrating on their final destination. His eyes flickered to her and his intense expression broke.
He smiled at her.
"You'll see." And he took the opportunity to kiss her cheek. Hermione wanted to hide the blush so she quickly turned her head away from her 'friend.'
Lightyear seemed to get faster and faster and Draco's hold on her tightened slightly. Hermione's eyes were tightly snapped shut—irrational fear of heights plus very fast broom equaled a very, very afraid Granger. She felt Lightyear speed to the left and she tightened her hold on Draco's arm. Within a heartbeat, his lips lowered to her ear.
"Afraid?"
Hermione shook her head slowly and that resulted in Draco chuckling sinfully sweetly. "Don't lie to me, Granger," his voice was a husky whisper, "but don't worry. As long as you have me, you have nothing to be afraid of."
Hermione was able to muster up enough courage and mutter a meek: "I know."
Again, he chuckled. Was that sound ever going to get old? Probably not, Hermione told herself. His voice—his laughter, was amazing.
Lightyear whizzed into the Astronomy Tower before circling the globe once and shooting out to the open skies. Draco whispered for Hermione to open her eyes and, although hesitant, she did as he requested. Her breath caught in her throat. The night sky was unbelievably beautiful; the half-moon shone mystically in a sky filled with blinking stars and purple clouds.
"Wow," she breathed.
Draco guided Lightyear to the one of the tallest tower Hogwarts had to offer; the tip of the Astronomy Tower. Having Lightyear hover close to the tip, Draco dismounted before helping Hermione off. His arm went around her waist to steady her and with one whip of his wand, two pillows were conjured and Lightyear went to rest on a ledge.
"Stargazing?" Hermione asked, looking over at him. Draco nodded as he sat down, unceremoniously, on the pillow and pat the pillow beside him.
"Yes, so come join me."
Hermione shook her head but went to sit beside him anyway. As soon as she was comfortable, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and conjured up a blanket to cover them. Then, because he could, he kissed her temple. "Now this is what you call a date."
"This isn't a date," Hermione rolled her eyes; "this is an outing between two friends."
"Which, in short, translates to date." Draco grinned, smugly. His arm that was wrapped around her shoulder gave her a gentle squeeze. "And I thought I should let you know that I was a nervous wreck all night."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Were you now?"
"I was genuinely afraid you were mad at me for kissing you." His admittance was cute and made him more human. Gone was the tough guy persona that he always maintained. At that moment he was a real man with real feelings.
It made Hermione's heart race uncontrollably.
Blushing sheepishly, she rested her head against Draco's shoulder—it felt like the most natural thing in the world, to do that. "I was kind of upset when you didn't write to me last night. Just kind of."
And Draco, as if it was the most natural thing for him to do, leaned over and kissed her temple. "Honestly, I didn't know whether you were mad at me or not." They were both staring into the sky watching the stars twinkle. In the distance, the far end of the Forbidden Forest, they saw a dragon take flight and soar off towards the moon. "I thought you were going to hex me." Draco, picturing his lips being hexed off to nothingness, shuddered. Trying to take his mind off of it, he reached over and ran his fingers down the column of Hermione's neck before trailing the pad of his finger along the Healer Pendant.
Hermione made a serious effort to not react to his touch. So, rather than focus her energy on the hair standing on end and the butterflies in her stomach, she laughed nervously at him. Yeah, it was rather ballsy of him to kiss me but admittedly it worked for the better. "Does this mean we're real friends now?"
"Yes." Draco's voice was a low rumble, almost husky. "It does." He withdrew his finger from her pendant.
Then silence.
A comfortable silence blanketed them and Hermione couldn't have asked for a better 'flying-lesson.' The arm that was wrapped around her shoulder began massaging her lightly and Hermione, subconsciously, snuggled closer into him. "This is nice," she whispered, afraid her voice might break the serene atmosphere. "I'm sure I wouldn't have such a great time with Hufflepuff Malfoy."
Draco's chest rumbled with laughter and he gave her shoulder another gentle squeeze. "He can't outshine the master, now can he? Though I'm sure you could have an equally good time with Flint."
"Malfoy!" Hermione playfully smacked his chest. Draco snickered at her measly attempt to faux-hurt him. "I thought we were never going to bring that up."
"When did we agree to that?"
Hermione paused, trying to think of a witty response. "Your dreams?"
"In your dreams."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "He aged gracefully, let's put it that way."
"He became graceful when the ogre in his mouth was fixed," Draco snorted. "Even we made fun of him."
"And how did he become a professor? Of a brand new subject, might I add?"
Draco shrugged. "Beats me. I have to ask him; trust me, we're as surprised as you guys are. He failed a year too; I don't know what in bloody Merlin's name possessed McGonagall to hire him."
"She sees the good in people," Hermione mumbled. "I guess the world would be a better place if everybody did."
Not knowing what to say, Draco kissed her cheek. Surprised, Hermione glanced over at him and he took that opportunity to capture her lips. The kiss was unlike the previous night; it was gentler, slower, and filled with more passion. Draco used the force of his head to tilt her face up and when her mouth was angled with his properly, he deepened the kiss. Hermione bit his lower lip and he brought his free hand up to comb through her hair- oh, he loved her hair so much.
"Lesson two, in flying," Draco murmured into her lips, "always do what the teacher does."
"Hmm?" Hermione said, not at all listening to what he was saying to her.
The hand that was holding onto her hair released and Draco curled it around the back of her neck. He wanted to taste more of her, feel more of her... her lips were amazing and kissing her had to be the best thing he had ever experienced. Needing air, they pulled back to catch their breath. Draco pushed some of her bangs out of her eyes. "Hogsmeade weekend tomorrow," He whispered, "the Slytherins are going. Do you want to have another picnic with me?"
Hermione's face lit up. "Will you make the snacks?"
Draco chuckled. "If you insist."
"Great, then I'll join you."
Finding her irresistibly cute, Draco kissed her once again.
.xx.
Edited: August 7, 2016
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In the Arms of her Dragon