AN: So, after nearly a year, I'm here re-uploading this story. It's still basically the same, just with some major improvements...another reason I'm doing this is because I won my school's writing with it, so I thought I'd share this new and improved version.

Freckles

I get what I want because my name's Draco Malfoy. I have many possessions, but none are more enjoyable than my five most useful…

The Weaselette came to my attention last year when she fired a Bat-Bogey hex at my mate Blaise's head. I told him he was an idiot and that nibbling some ginger's ear didn't count as flirting; he's still nurturing a grudge. Despite her obvious affinity to swearing like a pirate, her raging outburst had been a beautiful scene. Her cheeks were flushed, her deep blue eyes glinting and that flaming red hair, which would have made me cringe were the situation any different, was flying around that little head of hers like a fiery halo.

She was indeed, as fierce as a dawn on a pure winter's day.

I had to have her.

"Get off of me, Malfoy!" Ginny, the little Weaselette, snapped snatching her arm from my firm grip.

I smirked, how long could she keep up this act of denial? It was now nearly two months since her fiery outburst that had drawn me to her. Nearly two months since that first time I'd pulled her behind a tapestry. Nearly two months of sneaking, snogging and denial. She had never stopped struggling, and I doubt she ever will.

Now, I had caught her off guard after Transfiguration and pulled her into a hidden alcove behind a tapestry. That was the true magic of Hogwarts: if you didn't want to be found, you probably wouldn't be. This was a particularly quiet part of the castle, you could even hear the lapping of the waves from the Black Lake against the shore, or the whisper of the leaves as the trees in the Forest told of ancient secrets.

Nobody would find us here. Nobody ever did.

"Tut tut, Freckles. That's not very nice, now is it?"

Her face changes when I call her by my pet name for her. Dark blue eyes flashed up at me in what was meant to be anger, but I saw the suppressed passion.

She couldn't resist me. Nobody ever could. She would crack eventually.

"You're such a prat Malfoy."

This was going to be fun. "And you're such a right little beast, Freckles."

I always give my possessions nicknames. Real names are too personal, you run a risk of getting too attached. And that's not an option.

"I'm sick of this! This is wrong. Don't think I haven't heard the stories, Malfoy. Everyone knows how you play the game. I refuse to be another one of your little pets! Another one of your pleasures."

"And yet," I mused, "why aren't you running?" I watched as her jaw clenched, I could almost hear her brain chugging away to find an answer, cogs turning.

Of course, just like all the others, she couldn't find one.

I closed the gap between us, backing her up against the bricks. I heard her breath hitch and felt her heart thumping against my chest. I smiled to myself; she could pretend all she liked and scratch, bite and claw, but I knew what she denied. I knew what I did to her, of course I did. How could I possibly not notice? I'm actually surprised nobody's figured it out yet, she's like an open book. The way she looks at me when we pass in the halls – the pure, undulated lust - , she makes it so painfully obvious.

I let the tip of my nose trail along her pale, freckled cheekbone, smirking as she shuddered against me.

Oh, what a scandal this would cause: Ginny Weasley, the Chosen One's precious girlfriend, secretly meeting me, the notorious bad-boy Slytherin in a chilly alcove.

Classy.

But that's the way I run things. That's the way I play the game.

Freckles is one of the special ones. One of the useful ones. You see, I need them; the useful ones, because they help me achieve the things, the attitudes and behaviours I wouldn't be able to master otherwise. I can admit that without shame.

Most of my possessions aren't useful: they're ordinary. Nothing special. So I pass them on, leaving them as second helpings to my followers. Scraps.

That's the good thing about possessions: they're disposable.

Freckles, however, offers a challenge each and every single time. She's feisty and dependable. She fights back. She keeps me entertained and sharp; I couldn't say what I would do without her. When I'm bored I do things that would send shivers down your spine. You wouldn't be able to sleep comfortably at night. Sometimes, even I, have trouble; that's when I go to her. She's what helps me sleep at night.

That's why she's one of my most useful possessions.

AN: And? Tell me what you think! :)