Thanks for the lovely reviews: DragonMage, Ambrosius, whitebearwrites,
RainShadow and Crazywish. Here's more just for you.
I say again, this is SLASH. If that is not to your liking, please hit your back button now.
We do not own anything Harry Potter. The lyrics to 'Going to Pasalacqua' belong to Green Day.
Bel xxx.
***
*Oh but then again it seems/ Much more than that but/ I'm not sure exactly what you're thinking*
I hate Draco Malfoy. I hate Draco Malfoy. I hate Draco Malfoy. It's almost like a daily mantra: wake up, try to forget sexually explicit dream, chant 'I hate Draco Malfoy,' go down to breakfast, see Draco Malfoy, resume chanting. If I keep saying that, I might just believe it. It'll be hard, but doable. Maybe.
I hate Draco Malfoy for the fact that he's such an unbelievable twat, but so loveable at the same time. I hate that annoying smirk, but at the same time I love it because it makes him look ultra-sexy. Does that make sense? No. Do I need help? Oh, yes, someone help me!
"Seamus!" hissed Ron, nudging me in the ribs.
"Yeah?"
"What's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you've been staring at the same spot for about ten minutes and you're being quiet. Who's so fascinating this week?"
"I bet it's that little blond Ravenclaw," said Harry. "You know, the one in the year below on the Quidditch team?"
"Nah, it'll be someone a little less innocent, Seamus likes sluts," chimed in Dean. "I bet it's that Nathan Thomas from Hufflepuff, word is he's already worked around half the sixth year."
"It's none of them," I murmured, keeping my eyes on the sexy blond Slytherin.
"Then who is it?" demanded Harry.
"None of your business, Potter."
They tried to get me to talk but I wasn't going to tell them. They'd probably rush me off to St Mungo's or something. I probably deserve it. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin? You must be bloody mad. That's exactly what they'll say. And it's true. I am mad. Mad for Malfoy.
I wish I knew what you're thinking, Draco. Like when you catch my eye, and smirk, and wink. I think you know, but the fact that you're not doing anything about it drives me insane. I know it's gonna be up to me to do something, and I'll only end up embarrassing myself horribly. Maybe you feel the same, maybe you don't. I just wish you wouldn't play such games.
"Bloody hell, whoever Seamus is infatuated with this time must be one hell of a looker!"
Infatuation? Maybe. Or maybe more than that. I don't know. I've been infatuated with other blokes before, but I've usually forgotten about them within a week. It's more of a long-term thing with you. I've been lusting after you for nearly three months now. That's my longest ever non- relationship. I just wish I knew what goes on in your head.
*
Double Potions. Monday morning. It's official: There is no God. If there were, we wouldn't have Double Potions first thing on a Monday morning in the damp February weather with Snape. The wind howling outside sounds like a banshee. It's freezing in the dungeons. I can't concentrate, because Draco is sitting right in front of me….
And I'm partnering him today. Oh, help. Helphelphelphelphelphelphelp….
"What's the matter, Finnigan?"
Gahhh…
"Stop gawking, you look even more stupid than usual."
Gahhh…
"Finnigan!"
Gahhh…
"Anything the matter, Malfoy?"
"Finnigan's being an idiot, sir."
"No change there, then."
Gahhh…
Okay, snap out of this, he thinks you're an idiot, well done boy. No, look at what you're chopping, not at him, do not look at the Gorgeous One… Oh, bloody hell, I've cut my finger!
"Ow!" I muttered, sucking my wounded finger.
"What the bloody hell are you doing, Finnigan?"
"Nothing."
"Sometimes you act as though you've got less brains than Longbottom. And the ones you do have you keep in your trousers." Git. I hate you, Malfoy.
"Leave my trousers out of this. They're no concern of yours."
"I guess not. Pity." Really? This could be good…
"Really? Why 'Pity'?"
"I like leather."
"They're not leather, they're dragon hide."
"You shouldn't wear dragon hide. If the makers had known they'd be wasted on you, they would never have been made." Forget 'hate'. I LOATHE you! Sexy bastard.
"Oh, really?" was all I could come up with.
"Really. They'd look so much better on me, I've got a nicer arse than you."
"I-I-I-I haven't really been paying much attention to your arse," I stammered.
He leaned in close to me, causing me to shiver.
"Liar," he whispered.
"Maybe so, but since when have you been looking at my arse anyway?" He just smirked and said nothing for the rest of the lesson, and when the bell went he swept away without so much as a glance in my direction.
Draco Malfoy, what's going on in your head?
I say again, this is SLASH. If that is not to your liking, please hit your back button now.
We do not own anything Harry Potter. The lyrics to 'Going to Pasalacqua' belong to Green Day.
Bel xxx.
***
*Oh but then again it seems/ Much more than that but/ I'm not sure exactly what you're thinking*
I hate Draco Malfoy. I hate Draco Malfoy. I hate Draco Malfoy. It's almost like a daily mantra: wake up, try to forget sexually explicit dream, chant 'I hate Draco Malfoy,' go down to breakfast, see Draco Malfoy, resume chanting. If I keep saying that, I might just believe it. It'll be hard, but doable. Maybe.
I hate Draco Malfoy for the fact that he's such an unbelievable twat, but so loveable at the same time. I hate that annoying smirk, but at the same time I love it because it makes him look ultra-sexy. Does that make sense? No. Do I need help? Oh, yes, someone help me!
"Seamus!" hissed Ron, nudging me in the ribs.
"Yeah?"
"What's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you've been staring at the same spot for about ten minutes and you're being quiet. Who's so fascinating this week?"
"I bet it's that little blond Ravenclaw," said Harry. "You know, the one in the year below on the Quidditch team?"
"Nah, it'll be someone a little less innocent, Seamus likes sluts," chimed in Dean. "I bet it's that Nathan Thomas from Hufflepuff, word is he's already worked around half the sixth year."
"It's none of them," I murmured, keeping my eyes on the sexy blond Slytherin.
"Then who is it?" demanded Harry.
"None of your business, Potter."
They tried to get me to talk but I wasn't going to tell them. They'd probably rush me off to St Mungo's or something. I probably deserve it. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin? You must be bloody mad. That's exactly what they'll say. And it's true. I am mad. Mad for Malfoy.
I wish I knew what you're thinking, Draco. Like when you catch my eye, and smirk, and wink. I think you know, but the fact that you're not doing anything about it drives me insane. I know it's gonna be up to me to do something, and I'll only end up embarrassing myself horribly. Maybe you feel the same, maybe you don't. I just wish you wouldn't play such games.
"Bloody hell, whoever Seamus is infatuated with this time must be one hell of a looker!"
Infatuation? Maybe. Or maybe more than that. I don't know. I've been infatuated with other blokes before, but I've usually forgotten about them within a week. It's more of a long-term thing with you. I've been lusting after you for nearly three months now. That's my longest ever non- relationship. I just wish I knew what goes on in your head.
*
Double Potions. Monday morning. It's official: There is no God. If there were, we wouldn't have Double Potions first thing on a Monday morning in the damp February weather with Snape. The wind howling outside sounds like a banshee. It's freezing in the dungeons. I can't concentrate, because Draco is sitting right in front of me….
And I'm partnering him today. Oh, help. Helphelphelphelphelphelphelp….
"What's the matter, Finnigan?"
Gahhh…
"Stop gawking, you look even more stupid than usual."
Gahhh…
"Finnigan!"
Gahhh…
"Anything the matter, Malfoy?"
"Finnigan's being an idiot, sir."
"No change there, then."
Gahhh…
Okay, snap out of this, he thinks you're an idiot, well done boy. No, look at what you're chopping, not at him, do not look at the Gorgeous One… Oh, bloody hell, I've cut my finger!
"Ow!" I muttered, sucking my wounded finger.
"What the bloody hell are you doing, Finnigan?"
"Nothing."
"Sometimes you act as though you've got less brains than Longbottom. And the ones you do have you keep in your trousers." Git. I hate you, Malfoy.
"Leave my trousers out of this. They're no concern of yours."
"I guess not. Pity." Really? This could be good…
"Really? Why 'Pity'?"
"I like leather."
"They're not leather, they're dragon hide."
"You shouldn't wear dragon hide. If the makers had known they'd be wasted on you, they would never have been made." Forget 'hate'. I LOATHE you! Sexy bastard.
"Oh, really?" was all I could come up with.
"Really. They'd look so much better on me, I've got a nicer arse than you."
"I-I-I-I haven't really been paying much attention to your arse," I stammered.
He leaned in close to me, causing me to shiver.
"Liar," he whispered.
"Maybe so, but since when have you been looking at my arse anyway?" He just smirked and said nothing for the rest of the lesson, and when the bell went he swept away without so much as a glance in my direction.
Draco Malfoy, what's going on in your head?