Written for Challenge 043: Addiction, at hh_writersblock, a Live Journal community.
Anytime She Wanted
It wasn't her fault.
She'd been engaging in a routine bit of blackmail when, out of nowhere, Grimbly had hexed her! And now she was getting detention for it. How unfair.
"Well, well, well," sneered Filch, the new caretaker. He looked awful, with a hunched back, long hair, and dirty fingernails. Bertha shuddered at the sight, shrinking back into the warm comfort of the Great Hall. "Detention, eh," he continued, baring unbrushed teeth, yellow and fuzzy. "I've got just the thing for you."
Grimbly. He would pay.
If he thought that this would make her keep quiet, then he was as mad as the rumors proclaimed. She would make him feel every blister Bertha had accumulated from a night full of scrubbing grimy trophies. She would make him beg.
But she would need to get some more interesting blackmail on him first. Really, he had completely overreacted. Snogging Florence wasn't a big deal, even if she was a Slytherin. Gryffindors. They never used their brains.
Unless … unless Grimbly was dating her: that Florence slut. But surely not – Florence had never stayed with anyone longer than a week. Well she'd just have to find out.
Bertha reviewed her list. Florence being in Slytherin would make it much easier. She would search the girl's diary first. Then ask her friends if they'd noticed any changed behavior.
Obsessive, her mother hissed at her, from the depths of her memories. Bertha didn't bother replying, simply scrubbing harder at an Order of Merlin – she'd defended herself enough to the woman. It wasn't obsessive, it was simply good sense. She was accumulating information. And she could stop anytime she wanted to….
Grimbly. Focus.
Bertha scrubbed on, formulating her plans of attack. The poor sod wouldn't be able to walk down a hallway without whispers buzzing like bees when she was through with him. It was no less than he deserved, of course.
Maybe she'd follow him. It was a teeny bit drastic, but all very worth it, if she could find out something interesting. If she could know more.
"Alright," Filch wheezed, looking extremely disappointed. As if she hadn't been there for three hours already. "You can go."
Bertha hurried out as fast as her legs could carry her, exceedingly glad to be free from the stench of the polish she'd been using.
"Please."
A single word, so filled with longing that it made Bertha's legs lock, holding her in place.
"Please, Merlin, I won't tell anyone, just … don't."
Bertha's eyes gleamed in the almost non-existent light. She crept closer, taking care not to let her robes ruffle or her shoes scuff.
"I'll think about it."
The voice was male, cold and supremely confident. Bertha would change that. How would he sound when the roles were reversed? When he was the one begging her?
"I'll do anything."
The passion in the other voice was enticing, drawing Bertha closer and closer, making her ignore caution for bigger and better things. She pressed her back up to the rough wall and pushed oval glasses up her now-sweaty nose.
She could stop anytime she wanted to….
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