To The Core
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, that's all J.K. Rowling's stuff.
It was just another day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for Draco Malfoy. Bullying Gryffindors, bossing around Crabbe and Goyle, taking advantage of first years. He even had gotten a chance to call out that filthy Mudblood - Granger. He snickered, hands in pockets, as he thought to himself of the joys of being a Slytherin. Oh, how lucky he was, raised on an ivory pedestal by the Dark Lord. How lovely it would be when he actually would fulfill the orders of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and given full credit for it! Well, maybe not full credit. It was the Dark Lord after all. He could be a little…selfish to say the least. No, Draco shook his head. He mustn't think such thoughts about the Dark Lord. He might hear him.
Draco's thoughts strayed like this all the way until he loomed in front of the Slytherin dormitory door, muttered the password, and snuck in. The question was when, when would the Dark Lord decide to put his trust in him? What fateful task would he have to complete? He had been jitterish for the whole week, awaiting word from his father, Snape, anyone. His hands grew damp from anxiety. He wiped them on the side of his pants.
Damn, he couldn't blow his cover. He opened the door to his dormitory and began to take off his cape and loosened his tie when he suddenly noticed a very sweet, feminine scent. It wasn't Pansy's perfume, she hadn't been in his room in ages, a not he stored in the back of his hand for future use. He proceeded to look through his things to try and find this intoxicating breath of life hovering in his room. His eyes swept over his bed and suddenly he froze.
A single green apple laid on the top of his bed, lounging casually as if expecting him.
His sheets were rumpled and there was a small imprint on the pillow next to his.
"What the…"
He walked over to his bed, snatching the apple up and into his hand. The effect was startling. His fingers jerked, breath taken aback; a shiver ran down his spine. He smelled his sheets and pillow and knew, just knew that the apple had been permeating her heavenly smell all across his bed. He closed his eyes, slowly stroking his thumb across the apple's soft, supple skin, taking in her curves and fertile plumpness. She was so juicy, heavily laden with dark secrets and desires, a femme fatal of enchanting fruits.
He ran his nose against her peel, groaning and shuddering from the blissful contact. He bit his lip. With lazy eyes, Draco gazed at the apple and suppressed the desire to take a bite. He sighed softly and with all his strength, he placed his precious apple inside his closet, closing the door behind him. Taking a deep breath and lots of willpower, Draco drifted to sleep without once laying his eyes upon his beloved apple.
When morning came, the first thing Draco did was to run to his closet and fling the door open, worried someone had stolen his precious darling. But just like the night before, she was there as expected, waiting for him and shining, shining gloriously in front of his bulging eyes. He couldn't believe it. He gave her a few caresses before softly murmuring goodbye to head downstairs to breakfast.
And so it remained like this for the next several weeks. Draco would wake up, throw open the closet, caressing and cradling his apple, denying himself a lick, a bite. Warding off the overwhelming temptation permeating from within his core. One night after a long and arduous day of harassing first years and passing out wedgies to Hufflepuffs, he flopped onto his bed and sighed, drinking in the still-stained smell of the apple on his sheets. He closed his eyes, paced about, read a book, attempted to finish an essay for Snape's class. He tried anything, anything to get away from the thought of his succulent moist apple. When he could take it no longer after thrashing all about his room, he ripped the closet door open, clutched the apple with a strong grip in his calloused hands and bit into it deeply, passionately, lovingly.
The apple's juice filled Draco's mouth, titillating his tongue and tickling his nostrils, rolling his eyes to the back of his head in ecstasy. With each bite, the apple's green skin revealed soft, creamy flesh and raw delight underneath. Draco ate and ate and ate his jewel until his heart bursted and he moaned loudly, crying out and leaning against the wall for support, fearing his legs would give out from the sheer pleasure of his apple.
After his breathing became even again, he opened his eyes and smiled.
He had eaten it all.
Right down to the core.