His fingers dug into the skin of my back, his lips a bruising punishment upon the delicate skin of my neck.
A scream welled in my throat, before I was smothered by his ferocious ardour.
His cold fingers tunnelled through my hair, sending slight trembles down to the base of my spine.
My body grew warm against my will, pulsating against his sinewy frame.
A gasp came unbidden from my throat as he ran his tongue across the seam of my lips…
his eyes glittered a mercurial blue…
no... green…
... grey.
Hermione sighed with discontent, as the wad of parchment ricocheted off the side of the waste basket only to fall to the floor, "stupid. This is so stupid."
Reflexively, she reached for her wand. Accio crap piece of writing, and in an instant, the scrunched up piece of paper flew speedily into her open palm only to be thrusted into her pocket.
Her novel was due in less than a month and she was still a good length from reaching the word limit. Her editor was going to MURDER her. She was going to end up dead in the Forbidden Forest, still glowing a strange shade of green after being freshly decimated by an array of Unforgivables.
Hermione's mind took a second to flash to the pudgy, miserable Mr. Conche, sitting alone in his office, adjusting his spectacles every two minutes. He'd wash his hands with four different types of disinfectant and toilet spray every nook and cranny of his office until it smelt like the Retirees Knitting Club.
Hermione began to reconsider his capacity for murder.
However what she did know was that she wasn't going to get her pay check until the novel was finished. She was woman enough to admit that she was broke. Sure, one would think that having Dentists for parents would solve the problem right away, but not when they found out that she'd accidently spent her pin money on a charitable organisation for homeless gnomes that didn't exist.
Yes, she'd been conned good and proper, if anyone knew…
Embarrassment personified.
Hermione felt the quill fall from her fingers, sending small blotches across the remaining parchment. She slammed her head into her hands, her elbows sending shockwaves across the small wooden writing desk.
She was stuffed.
More stuffed than Ron was for his Potions Practical.
And that was saying something.
There just seemed to be something wrong with her work…
It wasn't right.
OH WAIT.
Maybe it was because she was still a virgin.
Nearly no sexual experience could possibly account for the fact that she had NO IDEA WHAT THE HELL SHE WAS WRITING ABOUT.
Hermione mumbled angrily beneath her breath, "I can't exactly go up to Harry and Ron and tell them I need them to… to…"
A flurried blush suffused her features as she thought about the absolute horror that would be born of such a situation.
Hermione checked her watch, she was already five minutes late for corridor duty. With haste she pushed away from her desk to pace to the portrait entrance of the Prefect tower. It was bad enough having to perform prefect duties as well as write a sodding novel, but Hermione took it in her stride.
Yep, so much so that she strode right into the hard frame of one very dishevelled Slytherin Prince, who appeared to be returning from one very demanding afternoon in Pansy's dorm room.
"Watch where you're bloody going, Granger," Malfoy yelled as Hermione rammed into him, he moved in such a manner as to block her exit, his arm coming up in support as he leaned menacingly over her, "Sure thing little-miss-know-it-all, feel free to walk all over your inferiors, but don't you dare try such a thing with your betters."
Hermione fumed, her chocolate curls forming a forbidding halo about her face, without thought she jabbed him roughly in the stomach with her wand, causing him to wince in pain, "Malfoy, it's not my fault you are such a skinny rodent easily shoved over by a girl!"
And with that Hermione stormed out, her eyes flashing in barely restrained anger.
Malfoy tried very hard to stop the look of amusement from suffusing his face (beyond his volition of course!), finally pushing his brows into what he hoped was a semblance of disgusted annoyance.
However the look melted away as he noted a small bit of parchment on the floor, and curiosity – although being known to kill the cat, but never a Malfoy- soon took hold.
The first line was all it took to have his eyebrows disappear into his hairline.
Thank you for reading the first chapter of 'novel inspiration'
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love shakespearelozza xx