Draco Malfoy sat on his four-poster bed, gingerly holding the green apple in the palm of his hand. There was no sound in the Slytherin boys' dormitory. Everyone had fallen asleep. All besides Draco (and his Apple).
He let out a sigh, running a finger down the apple's side. He imagined her shivering at their contact. "Oh, my Apple," he cooed softly. "It's just you and me now. Nobody else can bother us. You're the only one who knows my darkest secrets. I can tell you anything, and you never tell anyone else about them, hmm?"
The Apple remained silent.
"I knew it," Draco purred, pressing his lips against Apple. Merlin, she smelled good. "People make fun of me all the time," the blond went on sadly, "especially Potter. But you, Dearest, understand me well, and I know you would never dream to hurt me. You have been there for me for all this time, Apple." As he paused, Draco's stomach rumbled loudly. He groaned. He hadn't had much of an appetite at dinner that night, and he wasn't in the mood to sneak down into the kitchens, either. The only food source currently available was Apple. "And you're here for me now, love," murmured Draco as he opened his mouth slightly, "here to satisfy my hunger…"
Apple did not protest—she simply continued sitting in his hand. Taking her silence as permission, he sank his teeth into the apple's tempting, juicy flesh.
Merlin, Apple tasted absolutely delicious. He briefly wondered why he hadn't thought of eating the apple sooner.
No matter.
A/n: Harry Potter is not mine.
This was meant as a parody. I really don't understand Drapple... -_-