POISON FIGS

Chapter 1 - VIOLENT DELIGHTS

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Which, as they kiss, consume"

- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Draco

Draco stretched in the soft bed, his legs too long for the four poster. The sound of the lake water splashing against the wall. The whole dorm had a tint of green, so Draco had to sit for a moment in the dark, letting his eyes adjust.

Most of the other dorms, he knew, were above ground, but Draco wouldn't have chosen any other. The Slytherin dorm was old, and slightly damp, but it was full of secrets as black as sin.

Draco revelled in it.

He had a photo of his parents in the drawer of his sidetable, and he tried not to wake anyone else as he opened the old drawer, and pulled out the photograph.

He was very small back then, about to head off to Hogwarts, and his hair was more gold than the silver-white it had turned into. He still had the hint of a genuine smile, not the snide cocky one he prided himself in. His father was gaunt and stern, with pure white hair and a frown. Draco's mother had her arm around his little shoulders, beautiful as ever, but with a sad smile. The figures in the photo attempted to stand still outside the Malfoy Manor, the wind catching at their long hair. Draco smiled at the memory of how Narcissa had scraped and greased his hair back.

"You've got to show them who you are, Draco. You're a Malfoy, and as far as I know that still counts for something."

Draco scratched his head and buried the photo back in the drawer, amongst the clutter of unfinished essays and his prefect badge. Draco pulled a face at thats and thought about blowing it up, but he was awake early and some of the other boys in the Dorm would probably wake up.

Draco walked to Defence Against the Dark Arts, flanked by those idiots Crabbe and Goyle. If he could he would get rid of them as fast as possible, but the twats could never take a hex for an answer and usually just came trawling back. They were useful when first years needed a good lesson, but otherwise they were simply painful, annoying….ugh.

Draco could see that mudblood Granger coming up with tall, ginger Weaselbee and slouchy Potter, her frizzy hair slightly tamed but still slipping out of the enormous clip she had bound it up in.

He found himself staring at the back of her head in class, watching a small curl escape, curling around her ear. It was annoying him so much that he wanted to reach forward and push it back into place, but then he shivered and realised class had finished.

He knew he had to ditch Crabbe and Goyle to get to the Room of Requirement, so he muttered under his breath and split both their robes over their arses.

He laughed under his breath as they both skittered back to the Dungeons.

Draco looked at his watch and swore under his breath. It was already 5 pm and he would have to skip Astronomy, but it was worth it. He had finally found an answer,and he couldn't just let the opportunity pass.

Draco walked throughout the hallways of the school, cursing his terrible sense of direction, but finally he found himself facing the large expanse of empty wall, apparently unmarked by time.

Draco had to think hard of the Vanishing Cabinet, and he had to walk very slowly, but finally the familiar tall black door appeared out of nowhere. Draco walked into the Room of Requirement, with the weirdest feeling that someone was following him.

Hermione

Hermione managed to sneak inside the Room before this door shut itself, and she hid herself behind a pile of chairs, brooms and other oddments.

She watched Draco walk further into the Room, making a pathway through the piles of junk and hidden treasures, and Hermione followed him, darting between chests of clothes and piles of books till she had a good view of drake searching through a wooden box of books.

Hermione meant to edge closer but a small letter opener fell off the table she was hiding behind, and it landed with a heavy clatter. Draco spun around, his hair dishevelled, the white top layers so mussed they revealed the warm gold underneath. She had taken him by surprise, and for a moment his grey eyes turned a pale shade of turquoise, innocent and vulnerable and-

'Lovely,' Hermione hadn't meant to say the word aloud, but it slipped from her lips.

Dracos lips turned into an easy, cocky smile, and any hint of vulnerability disappeared, the turquoise replaced by the usual dead, cold grey.

'Hello, Hermione,' Draco said, relaxing a little, pushing his hair back into shape. He sneered on her name, but she had expected it.

'Hello. What are you doing in here?'

'I could say the same to you, but I'm having the oddest feeling that you're inclined to talk over any explanation anyone could offer to your frizzy-haired self.'

Hermione cocked her heat for a moment, wondering why he hadn't thrown an insult yet, but she decided that she was better off not knowing.

'No one really knows about this room, no one who's a student anyway. I've seen you come here before, you know,' Hermione blurted.

'How did you know I was coming here today though?' Draco's smile fell away and his hand edged to his wand in his pocket.

'You split Crabbe and Goyle's robes, and you usually only make that much effort to get rid of them when you come here,' Hermione slipped her own hand into her pocket, feeling for the faithful Dragon heartstring.

Draco relaxed a little and walked towards her, and Hermione tensed up a little, uncomfortably aware of pale hands, and his easy stride, as well as how when he wasn't being sarcastic as something, his face was quite nice.

Draco stopped about 10 centimetres from Hermione, and she could feel his breath on her face.

'So… what were you hoping to see, Granger?' Draco whispered.

'I wanted to see what you were up to,' Hermione tried to keep her breathing steady, all too aware of how dangerous he was.

'Well, as you can see, I'm not doing anything. And I think you've got somewhere to go,' Draco inclined his head towards the doorway, and Hermione realised she would have to let it go, but inside herself she vowed to find out what he was doing in the Room of Requirement.

Draco

Granger turned to leave, but Draco couldn't help himself.

'Granger,' she halted.

Draco reached forward and pushed a loose curl behind her ear.

'It was bloody annoying,' he smiled slightly at Granger's confused facial expression. She shrugged her head and walked through the doorway, and Draco sat down on a threadbare ottoman to think.