Malfoy faced back towards me. I opened my mouth, then closed it quickly, struggling to formulate the fighting words that I desperately wanted to say.
Malfoy smirked, satisfied with the damage he'd already caused. It seemed he wouldn't stop until I had nothing left. I had never seen someone so proud to be a bulldozer. To enjoy watching the chaos left in his wake.
"What the bloody hell Malfoy?" I stood up and spit out, finally managing a grip on my words. I crossed my arms. He quirked an eyebrow and formed his lips into a mock pout.
"Whatever do you mean, Pet?" He smiled devilishly, arrogant in adding fuel to my flame.
"What do I mean?!" I asked in a sickeningly sweet voice. I smiled, but it never reached my eyes. I narrowed my gaze and continued.
"YOU KNOW WHAT THE BLOODY HELL I MEAN MALFOY. how dare you interrupt-" I yelled, not caring that the classroom door remained open. Frankly, Voldemort himself could walk by and I wouldn't give a flying damn. My colorful thought was interrupted by Malfoy.
"Interrupt you pitying some puppy dog?" he sneered. "Oh yes, how dare I stop you from going to the ball with some loser. You're welcome, by the way." He rolled his eyes, as if this whole argument was ridiculous.
"I wasn't planning on thanking you." The iciness of my tone could only be rivaled by the freezing temperatures outside.
"It's not your fucking decision who I do or don't go with." I was seething. Malfoy crossed his arms, apparently ready to refute me.
"I disagree, Pet." My hands shook. I'd like nothing more than to throttle this boy.
"You do NOT get to call me that! I'm not your pet, I'm not even your friend. You've made that perfectly clear. You don't get to watch your friends hurt me like it's fucking television one minute, yet care who takes me out the next. What difference does it make to you anyway?! Leave me the hell alone- I want nothing to do with you." I exhaled all this quickly. Just admit it Malfoy. Admit you're a lying hypocritical bas-.Ok, maybe I'm not one to talk right now, because that last remark wouldn't hold up under veritaserum. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to breathe every breath he made, or to never see that disgustingly handsome face again.
Malfoy stalked over to me, long limbs moving gracefully. His eyes narrowed shrewdly on me. I didn't move, feet glued to the floor. Though unmoving, I pointedly looked away in silent protest. Malfoy placed a couple fingers under my chin and moved my head up to look directly at him. His grey eyes bore into my brown ones in a strangely intimate way. The eye contact was so wonderfully painful it made my heart clench and pound. My hands shook from the intensity.
"It makes a difference to me because, Pet, whether you admit it or not, I know you. Who are you kidding? You were just waiting to turn that sucker down. But you weren't fast enough. So I did." I grinded my teeth. He was infuriating for presuming to know what I'm thinking. More infuriating for being correct. The fact remained, though, it wasn't his business to get involved. He clearly wasn't acting on my behalf, rather his own. Was he- was he jealous? The Malfoy heir, jealous of Dean? The thought was laughable, yet…
"I think that you're just jeal-" He cut me off again. Asshole. I desperately wished my body would stop reacting to his closeness, to his fingers still under my chin, chaining me in place.
"Well I think you'd like nothing more than to go to the Yule ball with me." When he spoke, a shiver traveled down my spine. He noticed and laughed cruelly. "Look at you, trembling at this little contact." My eyes widened at his bluntness. I wished I wasn't so transparently affected by him. He moved the hand from under my chin to wrap around my neck. Malfoy dipped his lips a centimeter from mine.
"Imagine how you'd tremble if we kissed." I forgot how to breathe.
What happened next would haunt my nightmares. My stupid, stupid body dared press towards him, trying to close the centimeter gap. For a millisecond our lips brushed. An electrical current travelled from where we met down to the tips of my toes. Malfoy pulled away in a flash, our lips no longer touching.
"Say it. Say you want to be my Yule ball date. Say it and I'll take the air out of your mouth." He taunted me.
My brain yelled to run, run and never return. But my head was still cloudy from that brief touch of his lips on mine, unable to stop my heart from overpowering. I was hooked. I needed more.
"I-" could I really give in like this? Could I really let him take away my last semblance of sanity? Malfoy's eyes gleamed, as if he knew exactly how close I was to giving in. He quickly pressed his lips to my neck to push me over the edge. I was a goner.
I squeaked out, "fine! I want to be your Yule date! There, I said it- just kiss me!" Upon hearing the words, Malfoy suddenly retracted, taking a step back. He turned and sauntered towards the door. Called over his shoulder:
"That's too bad, Pet, because I've already got a date."
He was far out of sight when I yelled. When I picked up my chair and threw it. When I kicked my bag. My quills spilled out and ink spread across the floor. I dropped to my knees. I let my robes soak up my ink and the hot tears dripping down from my face. Nothing released my fury.
He'd played me. Known Dean was coming to ask me to the ball, and showed up to ruin it. Then humiliated me by coercing the admission that I wanted him. Badly.
Maybe Malfoy had been right all those weeks ago. Maybe I was pathetic. I had been willing to do almost anything he had asked at that moment. All for a kiss with a boy I despised. And after all that, he had never even planned to take me out. He had walked into this room already attached. The steel cage of his trap clanged shut around me. I was a prisoner.
Maybe I should Avada kedavra myself, just to end this torture.
But I still wanted that kiss. And I'd get it. I suddenly smiled wickedly.
Realization hit me like a freight train. I couldn't win this game playing by the rules when my opponent wasn't. So I'd play it his way. I'd see how much he liked the taste of his own bitter poison.
By the time I'd be done with him, he'd be begging for mercy.
I didn't plan on giving it.