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Post by Hermione Granger on Dec 26, 2005 20:14:01 GMT -5
A/N: Okay, guys, this is my little experiment, so... bear with me. It’s a dark fic, and in Draco’s POV. I just had a sudden burst of inspiration. Also, originally, it was going to be in third-person, but I think putting it in Draco’s POV will look much better, considering the title. Well, here it goes!
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Obsession. Quite the peculiar word, isn’t it? One might say that I have an obsession. If you want to call it that, be my guest. But ‘obsessed’ is what the lazy call ‘dedicated’ right? That’s how I think of it. I’m very dedicated to her... more so than she will ever know. And perhaps, it’s for the best that she doesn’t. She wouldn’t be too fond of that idea, learning that I watch her in the mornings and evenings in the Great Hall, that I stare at her in class and never listen to what the professor is lecturing, that every time I shag someone I’m picturing her instead of who I’m with. Yes... she wouldn’t like the thought of knowing all of this.
But she doesn’t have to know... right?
It could just be my little secret, as it has been for almost five years now. Five long years of concealing this emotion, though... at the time... I knew nothing of it. I just thought it was an extreme form of hatred. But, I came to learn that your heart doing a somersault wasn’t a symptom of antipathy. That’s what she did to me. She made my heart flip, my stomach settle uncomfortably in my throat and my entire calm-cool-and-collected attitude fade into a fit of nervousness. It was those damned chocolate eyes... and that bloody, bushy-brown hair... and the warm smile that I always wished was being sent my way...
“Purebloods and Mudbloods are not meant to intermingle”, or so my father says. He says it’s almost sinful to even think such thoughts. But... why can’t I stop feeling this way? All I do is think, dream and talk about her. Though... when I talk about her... it’s not usually in the “I like you” way.
“You filthy, f**king, little Mudblood!”
“You’re just a worthless Mudblood.”
“I’ll get that Mudblood, I swear on it!”
Yes... to her, I’m not the nicest person. You could say we’re rivals, because that’s what most people consider us to be. We’re always competing for the top spot in our year, and she’s usually got it. Yes… she’s very intelligent, as am I. I use our rivalry as a chance to talk with her. If I get a better grade on something, then I’ll confront her and rub it in her face, just to see her cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and anger. She’s lovely when she’s not doing anything in particular, but she’s beautiful when she’s angry or frustrated. It’s funny that I still have that ‘torment them’ attitude about a girl I really like. I tormented Pansy a little in third and fourth year, and we dated, then broke up. But I can’t date her again, not after our break up in the middle of last year. I told her I didn’t love her anymore, and she took it harder than I imagined.
But I don’t want to be with her, anyway.
No… my obsession lies in a middle-class home just outside of London… sleeping soundly in the dead of night whilst I think of her.
But she will never know.
Right?
“Congratulations, Draco!” Mother squealed as I showed her my letter from Hogwarts. It was the usual letter; my supplies and classes written, along with a nice little acceptance body copy. But there was something more this year, I had made Head Boy. Yes, after studying my donkey off these past six years to strive to be the best, and succeeding only a few times, I am finally being recognized and rewarded for it. I always had a feeling I’d make Head Boy, seeing as though for the past two years I was a Prefect. I just never thought it would actually happen. Now and then, I had some suspicion that Potter was going to be Head Boy, and the world would, once again, grovel at his feet. But it looks like they actually do choose, not out of favouritism, but out of skill and worthiness. Yes… there would definitely be a moment of me rubbing his face in this.
But I did think to remember who, exactly, would be beside me. That was one of the only things I could think about. Her as Head Girl, myself as Head Boy… this would be the perfect year. Maybe I could talk with her... maybe... I could... make her mine.
‘She could be yours, Draco. With just a little provoking, she could be yours.’
My thoughts seduced me as I sat in my chair at the dinner table, my mother and father chatting about how nice it was to finally have me as Head Boy and other manners involving my schoolwork. I leaned back in the chair, in awe as a plan drew itself up. But what I was thinking was wrong... it was inhumane... it was cruel... yet, it was so perfect. It was the only way to show her, show her how I was always feeling. It would be painful, and it may leave some emotional scarring, but it had to be done. There was no other way.
And my planning began there as I excused myself from the table and went straight to my study to draw up my plans. I needed to be alone, and uninterrupted, for this plan had to be flawless. One chink in the chain and it would spiral out of control. No... no screw-ups... this plan... my plan... had to be perfect. I couldn’t allow anything other than perfection for this particular plan. I was finally going to show her how I felt, and no one had to know. If someone found out... I don’t even want to think about that...
So for now... only to myself... only I must know... but I will see her soon... and when that time comes...
I will leave my mark.
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Well... how do you like it so far? I think it’s coming along fine. I hope you guys like it! I’ll continue it if you think it has potential. Review, please!
-Hermione Granger
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Post by Hermione Granger on Dec 26, 2005 20:15:24 GMT -5
A/N: Okay, was he a little creepy in the first chapter, or what? I noticed some of you said just that. And that makes me HAPPY! Why does that make me happy, you ask? Because that’s EXACTLY what I was going for! You see, dear readers, that was just a glimpse of the Draco that will be in my story. Usually, you see some sex-crazed Draco that just goes around shagging anything with breasts then finally finds the best shag of his life in Hermione, or you’ll see some Draco who becomes good and sensitive just for Hermione. Aww… how incredibly perverted and fluffy…
Well, if you like that kind of stuff, then this is something new for you. This is a crazy, morbid, twisted, psychotic side of Draco few touch into. I’ve read a total of seven fanfics about a psychotic Draco, and even fewer do it in this way. What I want, dear readers, is for you to read Draco’s innermost thoughts and get the creeps at what you’re reading. I want to you read some of the later scenes in this story and want to stop reading, but can’t seem to look away.
So, I hope we all get what we want- you to get a good read, and myself to give you something that makes your skin crawl.
Enjoy, the lot of you.
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“DRACO ADRIAN MALFOY! GET UP THIS INSTANT! YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR THE TRAIN AND, IF YOU ARE LATE, YOU WILL NOT LIKE THE CONSEQUENCES, MY BOY!”
Ugh… must he do that every morning we are to leave for the platform? My father, the over reactive-lapdog… it’s a pity, isn’t it? Though, don’t get me wrong, I have much respect for the man, and he’s been my hero for forever, but what I said was true. He does over react, and he is a lapdog. He won’t admit it, and probably would kill me for saying it, but that’s what he is. Everyone knows it- Mother, You-Know-Who, all the Death Eaters, even he knows. But we’re Malfoys. We have pride, and we’re too damned stubborn for our own good. So his pride and stubborn ness won’t let him admit it.
“DRACO!” He yelled again, this time beating his cane on the door.
“Yes, Father, I know. I heard you the first time you decided to shatter my eardrums this morn,” I said whilst getting up and walking over to the door, opening it abruptly.
“Draco, I-“ He stopped after looking down at me, boxer-clad, and then back at my bed, girl-clad. He rose an eyebrow after identifying the girl in the sheets. “Why is Miss Parkinson curled up in your sheets?”
Now, I could give him the truth- which was Pansy came over extremely early this morning through my window after her parents had a fight and her father hit her mother and she panicked. I mean, the girl had clothes on, just not the jacket she had been wearing the night before. Or I could just tell him what he was thinking in that perverted mind of his.
“She came over last night.”
Yes, that would work… I wasn’t lying, I wasn’t telling the whole truth, and more dirty thoughts were flooding my father’s head.
“Ah… well, tell her to get dressed, and you do the same. We’re leaving in thirty, Draco. Not one second more.” He took a glance at Pansy one last time before closing the door and stalking down the hallway.
I sighed and turned back to Pansy, making my way to the bed. I slept on a loveseat near my fireplace, giving my closest friend my wonderful bed. Stupid girls and their stupid problems that they cry about. Pansy and I have been friends since we were in nappies, so of course she’d come here first. Everyone thought we were together, as in boyfriend and girlfriend. Though, to both of our distastes, no one seems to notice she and Zabini sucking face in the halls at school.
I ruffled Pansy’s hair, causing a stir to come from the girl. Her hazel eyes glared up at me as I smirked down at her.
“C’mon, Pans, up with you. Father said we’re leaving in thirty minutes for the platform, so if you want to shower today-“
“Are you trying to tell me something, Draco?” She asked, hazel eyes still fiery with aggravation. I rolled my eyes for a moment, delaying my answer on purpose.
“Well… don’t you usually shower in the mornings?”
Pansy frowned for a moment, obviously knowing that I had a point. She threw the sheets off and revealed her knickers. Oh yeah… seeing the girl whom you consider a sister in her underwear was the best way to start the day off…
“Pans, jeez, I thought you were dressed!” I looked away, grimacing. I mean, she wasn’t fat or anything, it was like seeing your sister, though, and that alone made it wrong.
“Well, jeez, Draco, do you think I want to wrinkle my clothes?” She rolled her eyes at me and huffed away, slamming the door to my bathroom. Hey… you’re going to break the damned thing, stupid!
I looked over to the closet and saw her clothes hanging on a hanger on the coat hanger on my door. Must have done that while I was asleep. I mean, she came at around one-thirty this morning and nearly scared me half to death with her beating on my window for dear life. So I got her to stop crying, or at least calm down enough to tell me what happened, and gave up my bed to her. As soon as I hit that loveseat, I was out. So she must have undressed right after that.
I heard the shower running and humming coming deep from within the bathroom. Pansy was a hummer. She would hum music she played on the piano, or just whatever popped into her head. It bugged the bloody hell out of me most of the time, but Blaise seemed to like it so, whatever. She’s his girlfriend, so that’s fine with me. When they’re forty with six kids and she’s humming after a long day of fighting those little monsters while he’s trying to sleep, he’ll see it my way.
I stretched in the middle of my room for a moment, before yawning and walking over to the closet to choose an ensemble for the day. Hmm… black, black, black, black, green, black, black, black… no real colours, and no leather, either, might I add. Leather is chaffing and makes strange noises. Malfoys do not make strange noises. So that’s the end of that conversation, onto the next. Ah, here’s something… a white-oxford and a pair of khaki slacks with my dragon-hide boots. Hmm… they weren’t black… and black is getting kind of… boring, so I guess I’ve found something.
I pulled on the pants just in time for Pansy to walk out, one towel hugging her body and one on her head. I rose an eyebrow as she gave me a look that said ‘What now?’
“What! I don’t want my hair to frizz, you know.” She huffed and walked over to me. Well, I thought she was walking over to me. Turns out she was getting her clothes, surprise surprise, before strutting back into the bathroom. Yes, you heard me right. She was strutting. What for? Hmmm… you’ve got me there.
“Pansy, when are you going to be done? We’re leaving in less than five minutes!” I said after pulling my oxford on, making my way to the bathroom door and holding up my hand to bang on said door. But right before my hand could make contact with the mahogany wood, Pansy opened the door, my fist stopping in mid-air. Her hair was dry and fixed, her make-up was on, and her teeth were sparkling white. Wow… magic… it was a wonderful thing.
“Did I mention I love being able to use magic outside of school now that I’m seventeen!” She exclaimed, looking quite excited. Yes, we were both seventeen now and she simply loved doing magic outside of school. Just the thought excited her. Yes, I know she’s strange.
“Hmm… now where have I heard that before… ? Oh yes, you told me this morning, when you came to my window and you were standing on my balcony with your Hogwarts trunk and all your stuff and I asked you how you got up there.” I said, smirking down at her. Yes, Pansy was at least eight inches shorter than I.
“Yes, but still! I just love being able to say that!” She giggled and waltzed past me, opening the door and clearing her throat. “Dinky! Come get my trunk, please! And send someone for Draco’s, too.” She called out, her voice echoing throughout my house. That was kind of creepy, might I add. I mean, the wood and stone made anything echo, even a cough.
“Yes, Miss Pansy, Dinky gets it,” The house-elf said as he scurried into my room, followed by another. I rolled my eyes and walked into my bathroom, planning on brushing my teeth before leaving. I mean, I know my teeth are perfect, but hey… they can’t be too perfect, can they?
As I was brushing, that’s when the thought hit me. Teeth… buck-teeth…. Granger. Damn! Not now! Get. The. Images. OUT! Not images of her now-normal teeth, but images of her in many different scenarios, all involving her screaming bloody murder as I rape her. Yes… that was my plan. I was actually going to rape her. I mean, how else could I do it? I am not becoming a softie, and she’s not becoming evil, that’s for sure. And not to remind you of the fact that she’s a Mudblood. And the thought always left me uncomfortable. I am no blushing-virgin, but the thought of rape is… strong. It’s intoxicating, in a way. The thought was… so… tempting. I mean, sex is one thing, but rape? It was, almost, like a taboo. And taboos are not meant to be broken, but people still seemed to forget all shame and embarrassment -not to mention morals- to perform these forbidden acts. And now… one taboo was certainly leaving the imaginary behind and becoming closer to a reality as something could get.
“Draco! Come on, your father is going to have a culinary if we’re not downstairs soon!” Pansy said, banging the door momentarily. Wow… must have lost track of what I was doing. I spit out the remaining toothpaste in my mouth and wiped the water and excess paste from my lips before bolting out of the door, mussing Pansy’s hair, and running into the hall, laughing tauntingly at her.
She chased after me and yelled as she ran, trying her best to keep up. I took a glance over my shoulder, and realised the gap between us. The moment I turned back, though, Father was standing there. He had stopped me and was giving me that stern look he’d perfected. Anyone, even his “master”, could cringe under that stare. I heard Pansy’s quick footsteps become very slow as they got closer, and lighter at that.
“Draco… how many times have you been told not to run through the manor?” He glared down at me, then over at Pansy. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see Pansy’s head lower to gaze at the ground, obviously intimidated.
“I’m sorry, Father. We were just-“
“I don’t care, Draco, you were told one-too-many times as a child to just forget. You’re lucky we have somewhere to go, or it would be three lashings for you.” He spat his words like venom as I nodded. Wow… really creepy…
“Yes Father.”
“There’s a good lad, now, come along, you too, Pansy. We’re going to be late.” He turned and swiftly walked away, leaving Pansy and I in the hall. Pansy walked up to me and grabbed the elbow of the sleeve of my oxford.
“Aren’t you the lucky one? Thank Merlin for school, eh Draco?” She joked, trying to lighten the now-darkened mood that was set in the air. I smirked, chuckled, and nodded.
“Yes, my arse thanks Merlin for school every day.” I joked back nudging her, and getting nudged in return as we started after my father.
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“Good bye, Draco, write to me once a week! Give Mummy kisses!” Mother wept as she pulled me into another one of her vice grips, kissing my cheeks.
“Mother, please!” I growled, trying to push her off. But I failed, she’d gotten me. No, no, Pansy… go on without me… there’s no hope left, now.
“Narcissa, let go of the boy. He’ll miss the train,” Father growled, as well, pulling my mother by the elbow away from me. I swear, the way she was acting, it was as if I was going to war, or something.
“Of course, of course. Bye, darling! Have fun at school!” She called out and waved before I returned her wave and walked off through the portal with Pansy, two elves pushing our carts. And who is the person she sees as soon as we reach the other side?
Blaise Xavier Zabini- her boyfriend of two years and my closest mate. Yes… it was like some reunion you only read about in books- Pansy took off faster than a Firebolt and straight into his arms as they began to snog passionately, clinging to one another as if for dear life. See? I told you it was like one of those scenes from a book.
“Hey Zabini, how was your summer?” I asked as I made my way to the happy couple, a little grossed out at their snogging, but felt my stomach ease as he broke the kiss.
“Meh, it was okay. What about yours, Malfoy? I mean, being the single guy you are.” He smirked and wriggled his eyebrows, obviously asking if I’d shagged anyone.
“Nothing special, Zabini, nothing special at all,” I returned his smirk, chucking deeply.
Blaise was one to use last names in conversation with everyone but his family. He called his father ‘Father’, his mother ‘Mother’, and his nine-year-old sister ‘Monster’, whose real name was Blare.
“Ah… not much action, or just not good action?”
“A little bit of both… but not so much the latter,” I shrugged it off, seeing Crabbe and Goyle come huffing and puffing over to our little group and taking their places on each side of me. My henchmen-toadies, how I loved having them around. The three of us had the perfect group- I was the brains, and they were the muscle. Well… not so much the perfect group as the one that was approaching right now.
The Golden Trio, the Awesome Threesome, the Heroes, the Golden Circle of Blissful-f**king-Friendship.
Whatever you called it, it was Potter, Weasley and Granger. And they had everything a group of three could need. Harry Potter was the brave, virtuous hero who would sacrifice his life to save the world- or his friends. Ron Weasley was the wise-cracking, ginger sidekick of the hero who would panic when things started to get ugly. And then there was Hermione Granger- the brains and, recently, beauty of the group. She helped them solve just about anything that came their way, and asked for nothing in return.
Everyone just seemed to love, adore and worship them- not to mention grovel at their feet. It was sickening, which made my morbid fantasies worse.
Potter and Weasley spotted our group of five first, sending us warning glares. Granger was going on about something involving that giant monster she calls a cat and a book she’d read over the summer. It took her a moment to follow their gaze, but when she did, we locked eyes. Silver and brown held a stare. I couldn’t find any emotion in her orbs, and mine didn’t give much emotion away. And for a moment, something… clicked.
And as soon it did, we both looked away. Which, I must mention, made Granger receive odd looks from Potter and Weasley.
“What was that all about, Malfoy?” Goyle’s deep voice asked from my right. I rolled my eyes and smacked the back of his head. Hey, it’s not like he lost many brain cells. I think I may have killed of the, what, three that were in there? The ones that told him to breathe, blink and eat.
“Nothing, you idiot. They just think they’re better than everybody else because one’s got a scar, the other has the emotional range of a teasthingy and the girl’s a walking encyclopaedia.” This got a laugh from the group of Slytherins that had made their way to where our group was, including one from my group. I smirked as the trio turned about and Weasley’s ears were as pink as Granger’s jacket.
“You dirty ferret, say that to my face!” Weasley shouted, storming over to us, only to be grabbed by the elbow by Granger.
“Ron, stop this nonsense. Now.” Her tone was rock-solid, and her face was set in stone. She meant what she’d said, but I wasn’t going to realise that, right? Of course not, I live to start trouble with them. That’s my only purpose until we leave school.
“Oh, Weasel-Bee, I didn’t know you had a girl, and a Mudblood at that, to push you around. I’ve been wasting a lot of time if someone’s been doing my work for me,” I sneered, smirking as the group of, at least, fifteen Slytherins tightened together behind me.
“Don’t call Hermione a Mudblood, you sick prat!” Potter spat, coming in front of Granger. Aww… so Potter has a soft spot for the Mudblood? Cute… a little cliché… but cute.
“I should have known you would fall for Granger, Potty. I mean, the disgusting odour of Mudblood must remind you of your mother.” I smirked, knowing I’d stricken a nerve. In fifth year, the idiot nearly attacked me when I spoke of his mother, and now was no different. Potter lunged at me, only to be stopped by Granger’s other arm. Merlin, the girl kept a good grip on two anger-driven adolescent boys.
“Stop it, both of you!” She shouted, as they tried to writhe out of her grip.
“Having trouble with your dogs, Granger? You should keep them on shorter leashes, if you ask me.” I spat, receiving more laughs from my group.
“Shut up, Malfoy,” She sneered, frigidly, as the two boys in her hands calmed a bit and walked back to her side.
“Watch your tongue, Granger,” I breathed, locking eyes with her again.
“C’mon, let’s go. He’s not worth it,” Potter spat, taking Granger by the wrist and Weasley by the shoulder. Weasley made the backwards peace sign, a form of the middle-finger in the UK, and walked off with Potter and Granger. I rolled my eyes and turned to the group behind me as we all laughed like the evil, orthodox Slytherins we were.
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“Go and fetch Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy. We have something to discuss with the both of you,” Professor Snape said as he glanced over at the pursing McGonagall. I hate it when she gave people that look, it looked as if the woman was sucking on a lemon, or something. I nodded and stood, making my way out of the Heads compartment and began my search about the train for Granger.
After noticing not many people out of a compartment whilst the train was moving, sordid thoughts began to fill my conscience.
‘You could cast the silencing charm on her and do it right out here… no one would know…’
I grimaced at the suggestion and shook the cool chill off my spine. It sounded so… tempting and stimulating… but I couldn’t. Not yet… not until the time was right and now was not the time. Quiet, you, or it’ll be my sweaty hand for the next week!
… Oh Merlin… I’m carrying mental conversations with my penis…
After peeking through about twenty different compartments, I finally found the one I had been looking for. Of course, I didn’t need to look through it to know she was in there. It was opened slightly, and I could hear her talking.
“But, Harry has to be more careful this year. It’s his last year at Hogwarts, and I know You-Know-Who will attempt something. We can’t put Harry in danger, Ron.”
“You’re acting like Harry hasn’t done this before, ‘Mione! He’s not in any more danger than he’s been in the past six years.”
I sighed noiselessly to myself. Was this all they ever talked, thought or dreamed about? I hate to admit it, but You-Know-Who doesn’t seem like he’ll be able to make it for the next two minutes. He’s… oh, I can’t say. I can’t find the words to say what I’m thinking, and I really don’t even want to say it. Saying that would be agreeing that I have reliability in “good triumphing over evil” and my father would slay me if he heard me admit to something like that.
“Ron, Hermione’s just concerned. But, Hermione, I want to kill him. I want to make him pay for what he’s done to my parents, and for Sirius… he has to pay for what he’s done.” Who knew Potter could be so serious about killing someone? Ever since the end of fifth year, he’s been a little blood-thirsty. Kind of atypical if you ask me. Well, time to make my striking appearance.
“A little homicidal, don’t you think so, Potter?” I mocked, pushing open the compartment door fully. Oh, so it was just the trio this time? No Weaslette, no Loony Lovegood, no Longbottom? From the looks of murderous rage they were giving me, I’m guessing this was a group meeting.
“What do you want, Mal-ferret?” Weasley sneered at me, giving me this look that said, ‘Look, I can insult, too!’
“Actually, Granger.” I smirked, watching the bewildered looks come on Weasley and Granger’s faces whilst a much different, more possessively-enraged look came upon Potter’s.
“What do you want with Hermione?” Potter spat, frostily, staring me down with this death glare. Merlin, the way he was glaring, you’d think I was You-Know-Who…
“Can’t say. You know, special people only.” I spat back, glancing over at Granger, who seemed to have figured out what I meant. Oh, this was going to be fun…
“Why you-“
“Harry, no. I’ll see you two later,” she said, getting up from her spot next to Potter. I rose an eyebrow, slightly surprised that she would be so nippy as to get up and leave her two best friends and walk away with a rival.
“But… Hermione…” Potter began, just to be cut off by Granger again.
“No, Harry. It’s fine. I’ll talk to you two later. Watch my stuff, alright?”
“You may want to grab it, Mudblood. We’re not coming back, you know.” I sneered, causing Weasley and Potter to stand as Granger picked up her book bag and that monster of a cat.
“Where are you taking her, Malfoy!” Weasley asked, ears pink with fury. Jeez, everyone always gets so worked up, don’t they?
“No where, Weasley. Besides, I wouldn’t tell you, anyway. You’re not fortunate enough to know.” I smirked before getting pushed out of the compartment by Weasley, slamming hard into a wall behind me. I winced a bit as Potter came up beside Weasley, wand aimed at my neck. And all I could do was smirk.
“Get off of him, you two! Every day, a row with the three of you!” Granger yelled, pulling Weasley off of me and Potter away. Her yelling caused some people to come out of their compartments to see what was going on. I simply brushed off my robes and sighed, turning to the heads popping outside of doorways.
“It’s alright, everyone. It’s just Weasley, it’s just… Weasley.” I said, causing a few snickers to come from some compartments. I heard a growl from behind me, and turned to see an enraged Weasley, an annoyed Potter and a stressed Granger who was trying to pull me away from the scene.
Oh, this can’t look good. Granger pulling me away? No. We can’t have this. I scoffed, prying Granger’s hands off my robes.
“Get off of me, Mudblood! I don’t want my robes to be dirty before the ceremony.” Granger growled lowly in frustration and let go of my robes, turning to see nothing but an empty train behind us. She stopped in front of me, her cinnamon-brown eyes flickering with scepticism. Then… the feelings came back again… the images of myself throwing her petite body against a wall and ravishing her was all too much for me to handle.
“You’re Head Boy, aren’t you?” She asked, nervously, sounding as if she was trying to convince herself. I smirked and took a lock of her chestnut-brown curls in my hand, twisting it around one of my long, pale fingers.
“Maybe… but you want an answer, don’t you Mudblood?” She winced at the name as she pulled away from my hand, which brought a glimmer of disclosure to my eyes. Was she that bothered by the name? I’d been calling her a Mudblood for five years now! How could she still be bothered by it?
“Yes. I want you to tell me if you’re Head Boy. I’m Head Girl,” she flashed her Head Girl badge under the Gryffindor patch on her robes, “and I knew Harry and Ron weren’t Head Boy. I knew when you said only special people could know.” She took a deep breath, as if readying herself for the blatant news. I smirked and nodded, taking my Head Boy badge from a pocket of my robes and pinning it under the Slytherin patch on mine.
“Well, then you really are the brightest witch of your age, aren’t you? Very observant, and clever, too,” I said, a sinister kind of seduction in my voice. Merlin, where did that come from? I took a step toward her, a quick flash of fear sweeping through her orbs. I chuckled, taking another step. She seemed frozen with either shock or fear –or maybe both- as I surpassed over her. She and Pansy seemed about the same height, so it was fun looking straight down at her. I felt… dominant.
Without warning, I grabbed her by the arms and threw her, vigorously, against a wall, my arms on either side of her. Our faces were close, and I could feel her rapid hot-breath on my face. I smirked wickedly at her as she gulped, frozen under my gaze. It was then that I brought my lips crashing down onto hers, which caused her to yelp in surprise. She thrashed under me- pushing, pulling hair and hitting whatever she could reach. Then she bit my tongue, hard. I pulled away and felt that proverbial copper-taste in my mouth. I chuckled, sticking out my tongue a bit and wiping some of the blood away with a finger.
“Merlin, Granger, you bite hard,” I smirked, swallowing the unpleasant taste of my own blood. She simply stared at me, wide-eyed and flushed.
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