A/N: Hey, everybody! One-shot fic here. It's short and sweet, and not fluff at all.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this because I am poor and sad and uncreative.
Though the Annual Slytherin Christmas Party is open to all persons, I hardly expected to see her there. Not only was she not a Slytherin, she was detested but all of our house. After all, she was Harry Potter's girlfriend.
But there she sat, in our common room, on our couch, drinking our Firewhiskey. Her hair was slightly mussed and her cheeks were rather flushed. She smiled coyly at Pansy Parkinson, indicating that she had had too much to drink. Pansy, who had been sitting next to her and supplying her with drinks, grinned at her evilly.
I stared at the girl from across the common room. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Her graceful hands, which held Harry Potter's nearly every day, now clutching a small glass. Her shoulders, which were usually draped with Harry Potter's arm, now shook with laughter. Her mouth, her small, pink mouth which had kissed Harry Potter's mouth, now sipped from her glass.
I remembered that night that I saw them together. They should have picked a more private place than the floor of the Astronomy Tower. I remember opening the door silently and being surprised by the two of them. Surprised, and entranced.
Pansy Parkinson's hand interrupted my gaze as well as my thoughts. I hadn't noticed that she had gotten up from the couch and approached me. She smiled at me, her eyes conveying amusement at my situation. "Draco," she said softly, clutching my sleeve with her long, nimble fingers. "Come on." She pulled me in the direction of the couch where Harry Potter's girlfriend sat. Pansy released my sleeve and grasped the girl by her shoulders, pulling her into a standing position. Not able to stand anymore, the girl toppled forward, clutching at the front of my shirt to keep from collapsing.
"No one is in my room," Pansy told me, slyly. "Merry Christmas, Draco." She sauntered off toward Blaise, leaving me alone with the girl.
"Hi," Harry Potter's girlfriend giggled. Her breath smelled of alcohol. "Can you please," she continued, "tell me where I am?" She started to lean to far to her left and I had to grab her waist to keep her from falling. She leaned her head against my shoulder, groaning. She smelled like him. I could see him running his fingers through her long hair that night as they lay on the Astronomy Tower floor. I could see his bare, wiry arms moving in the moonlight. I could see his hands, hands that always took what I wanted, sliding along her smooth, pale skin. I suddenly realized what Pansy knew I would do.
Without a second thought, I scooped the drunken girl into my arms and carried her into Pansy's room. She moaned softly, protesting the sudden movement, but I was quite sure she didn't know what was happening. I remembered the way she moaned that night, relishing the pleasure of her boyfriend. I kicked the door shut behind me and placed the girl on the nearest bed in the room. I took out my wand and quickly placed the most advanced locking charm I knew on the door.
"Water?" she muttered from the bed.
"No water yet," I said. I sat next to where she lay and stared at her. I had never really seen her up close before. Not this close. I had always seen her at a distance. From across The Great Hall, she would always be next to Potter. They would touch each other's hands, play with each other's hair, eat off each other's plates, sometimes even kiss. Oh, the first time they kissed at breakfast, I didn't eat the rest of the day.
But she was here. She wasn't with Potter right now. She was with me. Her house, her family, even her name didn't matter to me at the moment. All that mattered was that she was Harry Potter's girlfriend, and she was with me.
"Where's Harry?" she moaned, sitting up slowly. She grabbed onto my shoulder for support. I took her hand and held it for a moment. It was so small, so thin. I lightly brushed my thumb across her knuckles, watching her fingers twitch in response. My fingers caressed the palm of her hand, reveling in the softness of her delicate, pale skin. Quickly, without warning, I leaned against her, causing her to fall back on the bed. Nimbly, I moved over her, propping myself up on my elbows.
"Who?" I asked, a slight smile on my face. Her hair smelled like Harry Potter. Her clothes had been chosen with him in mind. Her skin had been touched, had been had by Harry Potter. And now she was with me. I lightly bit at her exposed color bone. Her skin was incredibly soft. Harry Potter had touched it that night. He had nipped it lightly with his teeth, just as I had done.
"Harry," she answered, gasping because of the unexpected contact. Her eyes were cloudy and unfocused.
One of my hands brushed up her shirt and danced across her bare stomach, so soft, so pale in the dark room. Her breath caught. I knew my fingers must be cold. Harry Potter's hands probably never were. They were always warm. I slowly lowered my face toward hers. "Who?" I asked again.
"Harry!" she hissed, frustrated with me. "Harry, Harry, Harry!"
I smirked, loving the way she shouted his name. She had shouted it that night. She had screamed it, moaned it, sighed it. And then she told him she loved him. "Yes," I said softly, before crushing my lips upon hers. Just like Harry Potter had done. His girlfriend kissed me back, opening her mouth happily. My tongue slid over hers. Harry Potter's tongue had been here.
I remembered that night in the Astronomy Tower yet again. I remembered how Potter's shoulders moved in the darkness, how his hair was even more messy than it usually was, how his girlfriend had kissed him so passionately. She had reminded me of a Dementor at that moment, sucking his soul out through his mouth. Taking what wasn't hers and not even knowing what she had.
But it didn't matter. Not anymore. Because she wasn't with him. She was with me, not Harry. He couldn't' have her, and she couldn't have him. Not tonight anyway. Because tonight, I was kissing Harry Potter's girlfriend.