Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Harry Potter universe, nor do I claim to. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story contains some details and dialogue borrowed directly from the text of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. I reiterate that I am making no money off of this, and that it's all in good fun.
Author's Note: This story was inspired by the song "Helena" by the Misfits. I'm not posting the lyrics here, since fanfiction is already dancing on the line of copyright infringement. However, if you're not familiar with the song, check it out. Also, future chapters will be longer than this, so bear with me… And with no further ado, I present to you Bound and Gagged.
Prologue – And So It Began
He often daydreamed of dismembering the stupid Mudblood bitch. He hated her with an unbridled passion.
He hated the way her arm would wave frantically in the air every time one of their professors would ask a question. He wanted to rip that arm right out of its over-eager socket.
He hated the smile of genuine happiness that would grace her features whenever she conversed with Scar-head and the Weasel. He wanted to smack that look of contentment off her face and make her mouth bleed.
He hated her appalling dirty blood. He wanted to draw a knife across her filthy, heaving chest. He wanted to watch her repulsive blood seep out of the incision and turn her white oxford red.
He hated the swirling motion her uniform skirt made when she walked. He wanted to rip it off her and fuck her until she screamed – with agony or with pleasure, he didn't really care which.
He hated that he had every advantage imaginable – piles of galleons, aristocratic good looks and poise, a keen and cunning mind, along with a Pureblood family who had overwhelming influence over the wizarding community – and yet, he was out of his mind with misery. He hated that the frizzy-headed cunt came from such a despicable background, and yet she seemed so satisfied with her goody-goody life.
Most of all, he hated the inexplicable pull he felt toward her. He hated that she consumed his every waking thought, and he hated that she didn't even notice him. How could she not want to throw herself at his feet? How could she not want to submit herself to do his bidding? Why didn't her eyes cloud over with fear and desire when she looked at him? He was Draco bloody Malfoy, for fuck's sake!
He knew he was an absolute prick to her every chance he got. He didn't understand why she didn't succumb to him anyway. He wanted to lock her up and keep her filthy, intoxicatingly beautiful body hidden away where only he could find it. Where he could stare at her sensual mouth and forbidden curves for as long as he wanted. Where he could carry out all of the fantasies he had ever had concerning her.
But he knew that she hated him with an unbridled passion in return.
He knew that bound and gagged was the only way she would ever be his.
If only he knew that the line separating hate from love was a tricky, elusive one.
And so it began.