Reviewers: Thankyou, again. Sorry I haven't updated in a WHILE. I've been incredibly busy. I'll try to be more active now.
Chapter Three:
--------------------
"The next few days were as dull and lonely as hell," I start as soon as Amherst sits down.
He flips the page over on his notepad and pulls out a quill. "And how did you feel?"
"Horrible."
Amherst nods, writing a bit of something down. "So we've been at this for a few days now, correct?"
"Correct."
"..And yet you still haven't told me why you killed him."
I sigh, wondering why he had chosen this profession at all. "My story is longer than you'll believe, Doctor. Can I call you that, Doctor?"
"I'd prefer it if you called me Mr. Amherst." He sighs loudly, shaking his head in frustration. I know I've been a pain to him lately, but it only amuses me.
"Fine, Amherst." I continue, sitting up from my horizontal position on my bed. "My story is very long, so if you intend on receiving any answers right away, I would suggest finding a new psychiatrist to take over your postion."
"My dear Ms. Weasley, you do realize this is a complete convenience, on your behalf, that I requested to interview you at all, don't you? Or would you prefer me giving up hope and sending you back to Azkaban where the Dementor's Kiss could be performed at any given moment?" I look up to notice a slight smirk on his handsome features, and I meet his half-smile with my own contorted one.
"Touche, Doctor."
"So, instead of arguing, why don't you get on with your story?" He readjusts himself in his seat, preparing himself for another go of my seemingly neverending tale.
"Well, now that you've asked.."
--------------------
As I said, the next few days were as dull and lonely as hell.
I spent most of my time occupied with various books with morbid contexts, although I couldn't very well concentrate. Sure, I should've been studying or focusing on my school work, but my confused mind just wouldn't hear of it.
My fellow friends had seemed to distance themselves from me, although I didn't even need to wonder why. I had spent the last few months in a horrible wallowing stage, and my mood now was no better. Instead of the always-smiling, always-chipper Ginny Weasley, I was now a solemn, shady character whom people avoided. I used to be a great comfort to my close friends, and had the best shoulder to cry on, but now I received no knocks on my door at two in the morning; I had no one beckoning me to help them with their life issues.
I was alone.
Even Malfoy had left me be, although I still pondered profusely about my encounter with him on the train.
A week later, I found another reason to question his actions.
It was in Potions class, the second Monday of our return to Hogwarts. Usually sixth year students didn't have classes with seventh years, but McGonagall, our new Headmistress, conveniently moved me up for this class, completely oblivious to my reluctance once she informed me of what other students would be in this class. For some reason, although she must have known my history and/or family rivalry with this particular student, McGonagall urged me to converse with Malfoy since apparently he could help me along the way if there were any complications. Dumb fool.
I wish I could partially blame McGonagall for this madness.
So, back to the point. We were being assigned new partners, since there had been some confusion due to Neville Longbottom's stupidity - once again - and as Slughorn read down the list of names quickly, I noticed how the majority of students were now seated with their partners and Malfoy and I were left standing, with only two other students. Just my luck, of course.
"Bulstrode, you are with Patil." He pointed with a chubby finger before skimming his eyes back over the list.
Oh. My. God. We are the only ones left.
"Malfoy, you are with Weasley."
No, no, no.
Malfoy shot me a look and I pretended to ignore it, although I gathered my things and made my way to the back of the room. Of course, since we were last, Malfoy and I must share the very last row in the very back of the room. I noticed, after sitting down, he had a smile on his face as he made his way toward me.
"Buck up, Weasley," He turned to face me after slamming his things on the desk. "I could help you do great things."
"Oh, I'm sure of it," I replied, my words dripped with sarcasm. I bet McGonagall is behind this pairing.
"Don't be so against this match." was his only retort, and I wanted to slap him for it.
"Why, aren't you?" I snapped, opening my book to page four hundred and eighty-seven, like Slughorn instructed.
"You know, actually," He followed suit, only I noticed that his book was newer than mine and in far better condition. "I'm not."
"Your mistake, then." I barked, copying Slughorn's notes off the chalkboard. If only I had noticed Malfoy sneaking glances at me, I could have realized that this would have been the worst match for completely different reasons than the one I carried, and I could have asked to be assigned a new partner. If only. Those words were far too overused in my life.
--------------------
"So that's how you and Malfoy became associated?" Amherst asks as soon as he realizes I'm finished.
I nod, although zoning out on his chair.
"We actually had a reason for us to be together then," I continue, although not breaking my stare. "Or at least he did."
"Carry on."
--------------------
Over the next few days I felt as though Malfoy was trying to talk to me. Or get through to me, somehow. He'd sent plenty of owls signed by Anonymous, yet I threw each and every one of them away without even glancing at their context. What was the point? I knew who sent him and I completely resented the person. Or did I?
Whatever Malfoy really intended on saying, he could do so to my face.
About a week later, Malfoy's owls had reduced to none and I hadn't seen him, even in class, until he approached me randomly in a secluded corridor. I had half expected, half hoped for him to corner me against the wall and take me right then, but there was another matter to discuss, I could tell.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" I spat out, taking time to notice his platinum locks falling into a pair of icey grey eyes.
All he could do was grin, half-heartedly. "Can we meet? To study? I'm not particularly up-to-date in Potions so it would help if my partner could assist me."
"We're in-class partners," I retort, inching furthur away. "Meaning we are only partners while in class."
"Not true," Malfoy objected, as his sneer began to bother me some. "If we're doing a project that requires extra attention outside of class." And at the sight of my eyes widening, he added, "Yes, I knew about it. We aren't all friendless, Weasleby."
"Sod off," I mutter, clutching my textbooks against my chest self-conciously.
"Not before we plan a study session, and yes, this will actually consist of studying." He waggled his eyebrows, as though it was supposed to impress me. Just to have you know, it didn't.
"Gross."
"How about eight thirty, tonight? In the library?" He presses on, ignoring my last remark. All I manage to stifle is the worst fake smile I ever imagined. "See you then."
And he leaves me to watch him, listen to the rhythmic clicking of his shoes against hardwood flooring, and perhaps even gape at his masculine walk. There was always something sexy about the way Draco Malfoy walked.
--------------------
"Doctor," I start, and laugh as he jumps slightly in his seat, startled. "Have you ever been in love?"
Amherst -- or doctor -- looks up from his notebook, eyes fastening into mine already. I love it how he does that. "Once."
"What happened?"
He sighs, the quill-to-paper sounding instantly. "You know, this is about you ... not me."
"Yes, but it makes this so much easier if I know a little bit about my inquirer." I press on, regardless of the few more sighs emitted from his mouth.
"Fine," He concedes. "She's in Egypt."
"Sex trade?"
"She's studying dragons with ... Jim."
"Ooh," He's just fueling my fire now. "Her new boyfriend?"
"She cheated on me with him." I'm surprised at how his voice remains the same, regardless of how his eyes look. Aside from pain, I catch a glimpse of fear, anger. His words are nonchalant, or something along those lines.
"Oh." I stop, wishing I hadn't brought it up in the first place. It's just such an 'oh, wow. Don't want to go there' subject, you know? "I'm sorry."
"No, it's my fault. I spent too much time with my patients and work. She got tired of waiting."
For a minute we remain silent, and he brings the topic up again of Draco and about our meeting later on. I happily, for once, oblige.
--------------------
Well, I showed to the library up at eight thirty ... eighty thirty-three, to be exact.
He wasn't there, much to my relief, and I wasn't surprised. Draco Malfoy was always punctual, unless making an impression. I figured, now, that he was trying to make one. And so I waited, for several minutes -- more like ten, or so -- and the bloody Slytherin finally strode through the library doors, eyes set on me. It didn't take long for me to realize he was intoxicated, on some love drug or another, and I became instantly entranced. "What have you downed this time, Malfoy?" I inquire, although unsure of how he will respond.
"Just another pill," He replies without any hesitation, and I'm sure I saw him wink.
There really wasn't any other way to explain my attraction to Draco Malfoy, but at that moment I wanted him. More than you can possibly imagine. I think it was the way his hair actually showed imperfections, falling into his face with ease, or his eyes had lost the malice within them and were, for once, at peace. Draco Malfoy looked like someone I could take advantage of, and I had never been more turned on in my life.
"There's a book we need, but I can't reach it. Over there." I end up spitting out, yet Malfoy takes a moment to respond.
"Where?" And I stand up to lead him several bookshelves from the very back of the room, perfectly secluded. I'm sure he understood exactly where this was going, because a broad sneer was plastered on his handsome features. To be honest, I wanted to rip the smile off his face, but I also had another plan.
"Up there," I point, but it's no use. After I give another nervous glance to the Slytherin, he's pinned me against the wall.
My arms are instantly pulled over my head and pinned tightly against two seperate books as Malfoy's lips attack mine with ferocity. There was no affection or emotion in his kiss, just plain pain and lust. He forced his tongue into my mouth, although I hardly tried to persuade him otherwise. We were sucking, nipping, biting, and whatever else you can do with your mouth on each other's. His defined chest was tight against mine as his hands slid to the waist of my skirt, toying with a button my mother had re-sewn many a time.
Even if I had wanted to stop him, there wouldn't have been a way to do so. Malfoy's right hand had slid to my inner thigh, working its way up slowly and roughly. He casually moved aside my underwear, the rest of my skirt bunched against my waist, as he thrust his fingers deep in me, working hard against my body. I felt controlled and manipulated, but there was no stopping Draco Malfoy.
There was a fire burning between my legs; a fire of lust and a fire of pain. His touch both hurt me and aroused me, I just had to take my pick at which one I would rather feel. I soon chose arousal, because Malfoy wouldn't stop, and my body's attachment to his fingers wouldn't subside. A slight moan escaped my mouth as I collapsed against the bookshelf in ecstasy, but he held me close to his chest and let his lips begin working at my neck. I could have sworn I felt a sharp pain at the right side of my neck, which I found later to be the result of his bite marks.
Draco continued to finger me for several more minutes, before I shuddered, climaxed, and collapsed against his shoulder. My head found solace in his defined chest and broad shoulders, but he soon had me standing on my own feet in a daze. I wanted to smell him again, the smell of passion and mystery. It was both sensual and addicting, that great smell of his. But I soon heard his sarcastic words of hate again, and decided to try and disregard our previous situation.
"See you later, Weasley." And as soon as these words were finished, Malfoy had turned and left me in my peace.
--------------------
"Mhmm," He nods, shaking his dark strands out of equally dark eyes.
"Yes?"
"Oh," Amherst looks up, unaware and now embarassed of mumbling to himself as he had done. "I uh... I'll see you tomorrow."
"Doctor," I begin, just after he's stood from his seat and turned to head for the door. "I have to tell you something."
I see one eyebrow shoot up in question, just before he asks me to proceed.
"Draco Malfoy didn't kill Harry Potter."
I believe Amherst's ears have just perked up.
"I did."
After a moment of silence, Amherst stands, tucking his notebook between arm and side. "Well, Miss Weasley," He starts, "I believe we have a much bigger matter to discuss ... tomorrow."
-------------------
Finished!
Sorry this took so long.
Reviews are still lovely.
