Hermione hummed and stood from her seat. She was closing the distance and he was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He could just turn around and walk away as far as possible from her. He had given her an order, and that should be the end of this conversation. The door was right behind him. Yet, he was stuck in place by the alluring pull of her core. The Diary had spoken of this. Every chance he had an opening, he would go on about his found out addiction to snort on her magic for hours, like nothing would compare. It all came down to extreme decisions concerning this witch. Based on his split soul it was all reduced to fuck or kill versus what him as an individual believed to be the real conflict, get her to submit or grant her the prophesied dominion by his side.