Draco Malfoy reached into his heavy oaken chest and drew out a jar. There it lay, on the bottom: a luscious green apple, perfect in shape and size. The fairest of them all. He had seen it in the great hall three days before, it sat in one of the serving bowls the house elves brought for breakfast. Goyle reached for it with his fat, greedy fingers, but one venomous look from Draco stopped him. He reached out a hand and curled his slender fingers around its supple form with barely-contained lust, placing it in his pocket.

It spoke to him, like that other one he'd had last month. What a mistake that had been. He'd wolfed it down greedily without appreciating its perfection. This time, he was going to take his sweet time savouring it. When he got to his dormitory, he gingerly placed it in a jar and filled it with preserving fluid. Every day for three days he gazed at it longingly, imagining the moment of their union, it in his mouth, his tongue licking and lapping at the juice of its tender white flesh. It whispered to him, a soft, crooning voice that only he could hear. "Draco... when will you be ready for me?" Today was the day.

He lifted it out of the jar reverently. Thanks to the preserving fluid, it was as beautiful as the day he'd laid eyes on it. A quick Air-dry Charm, and it was ready for him. One last thing: he drew the curtains around his bed closed, he didn't want any interruptions. The apple let out a coy "Oooooh!" and made a squeaky sound - Draco assumed it to be the apple equivalent of a girlish giggle. He tried not to think about the impossibility of that, he was beyond the point of no return.

He ran his fingers on its surface. He could feel the minute tremors under the skin, it was responsive to his touch. This excited him. He followed the trail of his fingers with his tongue, leaving a moist trail. He sucked at the stem.

The apple moaned as Draco licked its underside. Shivers ran down its core as the boy's teeth grazed his skin. The pressure of his teeth promised untold amounts of pleasure. Its flesh was just about ready to burst out of its skin, to meet the teeth and tongue that ached for it, to feel that warmth.

Draco sunk his teeth into the apple. Its juices flooded his mouth, never had he experienced such overwhelming flavour. He sucked its flesh greedily, revelling in the texture. He moaned. The apple's pure white meat pulsated with lust. He placed his lips on it, trying to imprint their shape into it forever. But lust overcame him and he took another bite... and then another, gasping and moaning with every bite.

Within seconds, the apple was down to its core. Draco breathed heavily, eyes lidded, juice running down his chin and onto his shirt. He didn't care. This was something he would never forget. He grasped the core with shaky fingers. He would treasure it forever.

He straightened up and pulled back his curtains - and froze. The black cat of dread settled on his shoulders and curled up like a scarf. Most of Slytherin house stood in front of his bed with incredulous looks on their faces, jaws slackened. The room was dead quiet.

"What's that in your hand, Malfoy?" Flint asked. Before he could react, he had snatched the core from his hand. "An apple? You were eating an apple, Malfoy?" He raised the core by its stem for everyone to see. The room burst out in giggles, snorts, guffaws and chuckles. All eyes were on Draco, whose face had gone faintly green with mortification. How was he ever going to live this down?

Without a second thought, he dove into the crowd Pushing and kicking, he broke out from the other side and ran. He had to disappear for a few days.

Obviously not meant to be taken seriously. Also, don't ask me what the preserving fluid is.