Chapter 10

Malfoy sent me dozens of glares throughout the day. I guess he wanted to make his hatred of me obvious. The whole thing confused me, really. Sometimes I believed that I must have imagined the portion of the summer that I thought I spent with him. Draco Malfoy couldn't have been the same boy that I had been halfway friends with merely months ago.

I honestly had no idea what had changed. I spent good amount of time trying to figure out what I had done to offend him, but I never came up with any real answer.

After we went our separate ways, we hadn't been friendly with one another at all. At first, we kept a distance, carefully ignoring each other. Then, slowly, he began to hate me. At first it was just a few snide comments - rather typical of Malfoy really. But then it grew into bullying that was much more biting, personal, and vengeful than it had ever been before.

And, well, I hated to admit it, but it hurt more than it ever did before as well. It wasn't because he had grown more aggressive with his taunts and attacks.

No, it was because it was a friend who was attacking me. I made sure not to show that his recent rise in abuse affected me any more than normal, but deep down, I hated every second of it.

All that trouble, all those issues caused the hours to move by at a sluggish pace during that day of our first detention. We would have to clean the trophy room together that night; and we wouldn't have anyone else around to answer to. Maybe he would finally just tell me what it was he was so angry about and I could fix this mess.

Even if we didn't go back to being friends, it would be nice to have him off my back. I felt isolated already with Ron and Hermione's constant bickering. Typically, if they were angry at one another, they'd just keep a distance until coming to a resolution. This year was different though. Ignoring each other I could handle. But their constant arguing was driving me insane.

So as they bickered all day long, I wondered how my detention that night would go.

Finally, after all my hours of waiting for time to move by, it did. It was supper time in the Great Hall.

And Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be found.

It wasn't my problem, but it still made me a little nervous. Would he miss our detention? Was he skipping out on it?

I finished my plate and made my way to the trophy room.

When I got there I found both Filch and Malfoy waiting for me, both looking highly agitated. I wondered why Malfoy had skipped dinner.

Filch interrupted my thoughts, "I will have you take turns each night. One of you will do manual labor while the other will write lines."

I immediately said, "Manual labor then," while Malfoy simultaneously commanded, "I will write lines."

Filch grinned, "Potter with the quill and Malfoy with the rag. I will be back in two hours to check your progress. Same jobs tomorrow night," he limped away seeming pleased with himself.

Surprisingly, Malfoy didn't say anything to me, even after Filch had gone. He took the rag in his hand (rather daintily, I have to say), and began his work.

In this situation, I felt awkward at the idea of trying to ask him why he hated me. So instead of making conversation, I too went straight to work.

I grabbed the quill left out for me and started copying the line that Filch had written at the top of the parchment, 'Dueling in the hall is forbidden and punishable by death.' I chuckled at the exaggeration.

Malfoy glanced over at me with an inquisitive look on his face. I read the line aloud so he would know why I laughed. He didn't answer me in any way, but I think I heard him mumble, "Such hyperbole."

He continued working silently, but every so often, I felt his eyes on me.

I had lost count of the time and the number of lines I had written when I felt myself toppling over.

Malfoy had lunged on me from the right side of my body and we tumbled to the ground in a heap of robes, limbs, and chair.

He pinned me down by my arms. I glowered furiously into his silver-blue eyes, but I didn't move him off me.

"What the hell is with you?" I shouted into his face.

He didn't move a muscle; he only continued staring down at me.

I sighed, frustration melting out of my body. "What do you want from me, Malfoy?" I heard the plea in my own voice.

He slowly inclined his head down toward mine. Our faces were merely inches apart. I could feel the heat from his breath across my face. His silvery orbs were focused on my face.

He leaned in the extra couple of inches and pressed his mouth onto mine.

I was lost. I wanted to be lost.

At first his lips pressed gently, seeking some sort of affirmation. I quickly complied. In response, his tongue danced across my lips. I gladly parted my mouth and he moved his tongue against mine. He tasted wonderful: he was sweet, like cream and strawberries. I breathed in his scent as my tongue dueled with his. It was intoxicating.

So intoxicating that I hadn't even noticed my body responding at first, but I quickly realised that my erection was uncomfortably constrained against my trousers. I didn't mind though: I was too drunk on Malfoy to care. Until I heard someone limping down the corridor.

I forced my arms out from underneath his hands – he had still been holding me down. I pushed his shoulders up in alarm and jumped to my feet.

As soon as I righted the chair, I heard the door creak open. Luckily, when I turned around, Malfoy had once again positioned himself as though he had been working. He looked remarkably composed. Aside from the slight tinge of pink in his cheeks, I wouldn't have noticed any difference between how he looked then from how he had looked half an hour prior. I was certain that I didn't look half as collected as he did. I could still feel a ghost of the warmth of his lips on mine. My robes were a mess and my hair even more ruffled than usual. Luckily again, Filch didn't seem to notice.

All he said was, "I'll see you boys again tomorrow night at the same time. Don't be late."

I avoided Malfoy's eyes and hurried out of the trophy room. I felt ashamed at my lack of Gryffindor bravery as I lumbered up to the common room. But really, I didn't know how else to act. Draco Malfoy had kissed me, and I… I enjoyed every second of it.

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There is absolutely no excuse for my tardiness in posting this chapter… so I won't attempt to give one.

Hope you enjoyed it anyhow!