Scourckstocks
By Narya
written for the Romance Fiction Contest in The Third Floor.
(Be nice with me because it's my first time writing in English)
There she was again.
She was weird and everything pointed to a good bit of craziness.
Ok, a great deal of craziness.
It was said that her mom took her own life when she was a child, also it was said that Loony was there to see the whole thing. Maybe that was the reason her mind was so messed up. It would be certainly comprehensible if that was the reason (not that he ever could admit so).
But, deep inside, he knew it wasn't that.
That special way she had to approach life must come from another source; otherwise she should be a lot more depressive.
His father was as crazy as her...
No, it wasn't that either.
-You should not be staring-she said. The most reasonable thing he has ever heard her.
-I know. Its rude-he said rolling his eyes, looking everything but abashed.
-Who was saying anything about being rude? When you stare, Scourckstocks can take the chance and steal a bit of your mind, unless you are lucky you could never have it back.
Ok, there it went the most reasonable thing ever.
Suddenly there was a blonde girl in his lap, kissing him. It wasn't a great kiss, it was a bit too forced for him to like it. His eyes where as open, as where hers. Her mouth was just put over his, that wasn't a kiss! It was more like... a face crash!
-See, you are not staring anymore-she said almost 12 feets away. When did she get there?
-What... you... what were...
-You don't have to thank me, Draco. I know you are grateful-she said, going through the open doors of the Great Hall, oblivious to the stares of almost everyone in there.
And there he was, still at the door, without knowing in which way he should be reacting to something like that.
It was a really bad kiss, only out of obligation and... It was a bad kiss really.
And the Slytherin Prince was not in shock.
And he was not staring at Loony in confusion.
And there was not a weird beating in his chest.
And he was not trying to justify in his head the fact that he had still to gag.
And he was not walking to his seat, red in the face.
And he was not hoping he could stare at her another day, and maybe she could distract him.
And he was not cursing the fact that, as he played with the food on his plate, in his mind he was screaming "God bless Scourckstocks".