Thanks go to: Thatz Classified Information, not so fairy L, Az the crazed
vamp and Just Silver.
Yeah, yeah, I know we said we'd only continue with Dace and the sequel to
I'm Still Me, but this one bit me again and I just couldn't resist.
Feedback greatly appreciated. Flames will be used for warmth this winter.
Wyv xxx
***
*Well I throw away my past mistakes/ And contemplate my future/ That's when I say/ What the hey*
Right, that is it. I've had enough of this mental torture you're putting me through, Draco Malfoy! I see you every day, and every day you look at me, and you'll smile, or you'll wink or something and you make me go crazy! I know you know I like you, and I'm going mad wondering just exactly how you're going to use this information and when you're going to embarrass me with it.
Potions is a lovely daily torture. We seem to be partners a lot now. It's your fault, isn't it? You just want to keep the poor, helpless, stupid Gryffindor Mudblood in a state of delicious agony. Well, I've had enough. I want answers from you, Malfoy, and so help me I'll get them!
Hang on. . . Malfoy has a detention tonight, he was caught playing up in Care of Magical Creatures. So maybe I could do something in Potions to make sure I have a detention with him? Okay, so it's not the best-laid plan in the universe, but right now, short of storming up to your dorm to kidnap you, it's the best way I've got of getting you on your own. I mean, I can hardly talk about everything with your two goons there, can I?
"Seamus?" I jerked back to the present. Harry was staring at me from across the lunch table with a grin on his face. I shrugged and returned to prodding my steak-and-kidney pie.
"Harry."
"You just giggled. What are you planning?"
"And when are you going to tell us the name of your mystery man?" sighed Dean. "I've given up trying to work it out!"
"I've told you before, I'm not telling you who it is, you'd think I was mad," I replied.
"Right, we've already worked out that he's in our year and we have classes with him. It can't be too difficult," said Ron. "Is he a Gryffindor?"
"Not saying."
"Hufflepuff?"
"Not saying."
"Ravenclaw?"
"Not saying."
"Ye gods, it's not a Slytherin, is it?"
"I've told you before, Ron, I'm not saying."
"But it's not like you to be so secretive about who you fancy. Usually the whole school knows before you've even worked it out for yourself!"
"This one's different." I only allowed myself a brief glance at Draco, before seeking out cuties in the other Houses. I can't give anything away, at least not until I'm sure where I stand with Draco. Malfoy, sorry. I must stop calling him 'Draco'. It's like I'm fond of him or something. Oh, bloody hell, damn these hormones!
Right. Malfoy next, I mean Potions. Damn, I have to get that boy out of my head. All this lovesick yearning cannot be healthy for a growing boy.
*
"Ah, and what a surprise, I'm partnering Finnigan and his dragon-hide trousers!" I bit my lip as Malfoy moved next to me, smirking in that ever- so-slightly evil and devilishly sexy way of his.
"Afternoon, Malfoy. Forgive me if I make no comment about your trousers, but I haven't really been looking at your lower body."
"And again you tell me lies, Finnigan. You shouldn't do that. It's naughty." Malfoy winked. Oh, bloody hell, I'm losing it. . . of course, there'll be some who argue that I never had it to lose in the first place, but still. . . gahhh!
"What are you playing at, Malfoy?" I snapped. He just smirked and continued adding things to the cauldron. I was dimly aware of having to chop something up, so I pulled the dead Flobberworms to me and started slicing.
"Finnigan, once again your capacity for understanding instructions is amazing." I jumped as Snape appeared at my shoulder. "I quite plainly said that the Flobberworms were to be sliced lengthways, not widthways. Ten points from Gryffindor for the inability to listen in my lessons." I sighed, and went to get some fresh Flobberworms. Malfoy reached out and patted my hand.
"There, there, Finnigan. Don't look so sad. I'm sure the Golden Boy will earn those points back in yet another wanton display of heroics." I froze. Malfoy still had not let go of my hand. I tried to pull it away but he gripped harder.
"Excuse me, but I kind of need my hand if I'm supposed to chop these bloody things properly. Wouldn't want the potion going wrong now, would we?" Malfoy removed his hand, grinned, and licked his lips. That was it! No more of this! I cracked and threw the mutilated Flobberworms right into his smirking face.
"That's it, Finnigan!" roared Snape, bearing down on me. "Detention! You will be joining Mr Malfoy in the Trophy Room at nine o'clock this evening, and hopefully you'll be able to work out the hostility between yourselves. Maybe then you'll be able to concentrate in my class!"
Oh well, at least it worked. 'Til nine o'clock then. Maybe I'll finally get my answers.
*
I arrived at the Trophy Room five minutes late. The fact that I was late wasn't my fault; I'd run into Peeves halfway up a staircase, and he'd tripped me up, sending me falling right back down to the bottom of the stairwell. One day, I swear I'll get my own back on that blasted poltergeist.
"You're late," remarked Malfoy. He'd already rolled up his sleeves and started polishing a large trophy.
"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed."
"You look rather flustered. Is the sight of my arse in these trousers really too much for you?"
"Right." I snatched the duster and polish out of the boy's hands and stood in front of him. "What the bloody hell is going on, Malfoy? You've been playing with me for ages now, and I want some answers!"
"I've just been having a little fun, Finnigan. Playing a game of cat-and- mouse, if you like."
"Oh, really? So why are you chasing me?"
"Because you like me, and it's amusing to watch you struggle with your emotions."
"Well, stop it, it's not fair!" Malfoy laughed. My throat was suddenly dry, and I felt panicky. He had a sort of hungry look in his eyes. Oh, help, what have I got myself into?
"Don't worry. I'm tired of that game now." He moved closer to me. I wanted to get out of there and run, but a Finnigan has never run from a challenge, so I stood and stared defiantly into his grey-blue eyes. "I want to play a new game."
"Wha." I broke off as his mouth covered mine, and his tongue forced its way into my mouth. Well, me mam did always say it was rude to talk with your mouth full. . .
***
*Well I throw away my past mistakes/ And contemplate my future/ That's when I say/ What the hey*
Right, that is it. I've had enough of this mental torture you're putting me through, Draco Malfoy! I see you every day, and every day you look at me, and you'll smile, or you'll wink or something and you make me go crazy! I know you know I like you, and I'm going mad wondering just exactly how you're going to use this information and when you're going to embarrass me with it.
Potions is a lovely daily torture. We seem to be partners a lot now. It's your fault, isn't it? You just want to keep the poor, helpless, stupid Gryffindor Mudblood in a state of delicious agony. Well, I've had enough. I want answers from you, Malfoy, and so help me I'll get them!
Hang on. . . Malfoy has a detention tonight, he was caught playing up in Care of Magical Creatures. So maybe I could do something in Potions to make sure I have a detention with him? Okay, so it's not the best-laid plan in the universe, but right now, short of storming up to your dorm to kidnap you, it's the best way I've got of getting you on your own. I mean, I can hardly talk about everything with your two goons there, can I?
"Seamus?" I jerked back to the present. Harry was staring at me from across the lunch table with a grin on his face. I shrugged and returned to prodding my steak-and-kidney pie.
"Harry."
"You just giggled. What are you planning?"
"And when are you going to tell us the name of your mystery man?" sighed Dean. "I've given up trying to work it out!"
"I've told you before, I'm not telling you who it is, you'd think I was mad," I replied.
"Right, we've already worked out that he's in our year and we have classes with him. It can't be too difficult," said Ron. "Is he a Gryffindor?"
"Not saying."
"Hufflepuff?"
"Not saying."
"Ravenclaw?"
"Not saying."
"Ye gods, it's not a Slytherin, is it?"
"I've told you before, Ron, I'm not saying."
"But it's not like you to be so secretive about who you fancy. Usually the whole school knows before you've even worked it out for yourself!"
"This one's different." I only allowed myself a brief glance at Draco, before seeking out cuties in the other Houses. I can't give anything away, at least not until I'm sure where I stand with Draco. Malfoy, sorry. I must stop calling him 'Draco'. It's like I'm fond of him or something. Oh, bloody hell, damn these hormones!
Right. Malfoy next, I mean Potions. Damn, I have to get that boy out of my head. All this lovesick yearning cannot be healthy for a growing boy.
*
"Ah, and what a surprise, I'm partnering Finnigan and his dragon-hide trousers!" I bit my lip as Malfoy moved next to me, smirking in that ever- so-slightly evil and devilishly sexy way of his.
"Afternoon, Malfoy. Forgive me if I make no comment about your trousers, but I haven't really been looking at your lower body."
"And again you tell me lies, Finnigan. You shouldn't do that. It's naughty." Malfoy winked. Oh, bloody hell, I'm losing it. . . of course, there'll be some who argue that I never had it to lose in the first place, but still. . . gahhh!
"What are you playing at, Malfoy?" I snapped. He just smirked and continued adding things to the cauldron. I was dimly aware of having to chop something up, so I pulled the dead Flobberworms to me and started slicing.
"Finnigan, once again your capacity for understanding instructions is amazing." I jumped as Snape appeared at my shoulder. "I quite plainly said that the Flobberworms were to be sliced lengthways, not widthways. Ten points from Gryffindor for the inability to listen in my lessons." I sighed, and went to get some fresh Flobberworms. Malfoy reached out and patted my hand.
"There, there, Finnigan. Don't look so sad. I'm sure the Golden Boy will earn those points back in yet another wanton display of heroics." I froze. Malfoy still had not let go of my hand. I tried to pull it away but he gripped harder.
"Excuse me, but I kind of need my hand if I'm supposed to chop these bloody things properly. Wouldn't want the potion going wrong now, would we?" Malfoy removed his hand, grinned, and licked his lips. That was it! No more of this! I cracked and threw the mutilated Flobberworms right into his smirking face.
"That's it, Finnigan!" roared Snape, bearing down on me. "Detention! You will be joining Mr Malfoy in the Trophy Room at nine o'clock this evening, and hopefully you'll be able to work out the hostility between yourselves. Maybe then you'll be able to concentrate in my class!"
Oh well, at least it worked. 'Til nine o'clock then. Maybe I'll finally get my answers.
*
I arrived at the Trophy Room five minutes late. The fact that I was late wasn't my fault; I'd run into Peeves halfway up a staircase, and he'd tripped me up, sending me falling right back down to the bottom of the stairwell. One day, I swear I'll get my own back on that blasted poltergeist.
"You're late," remarked Malfoy. He'd already rolled up his sleeves and started polishing a large trophy.
"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed."
"You look rather flustered. Is the sight of my arse in these trousers really too much for you?"
"Right." I snatched the duster and polish out of the boy's hands and stood in front of him. "What the bloody hell is going on, Malfoy? You've been playing with me for ages now, and I want some answers!"
"I've just been having a little fun, Finnigan. Playing a game of cat-and- mouse, if you like."
"Oh, really? So why are you chasing me?"
"Because you like me, and it's amusing to watch you struggle with your emotions."
"Well, stop it, it's not fair!" Malfoy laughed. My throat was suddenly dry, and I felt panicky. He had a sort of hungry look in his eyes. Oh, help, what have I got myself into?
"Don't worry. I'm tired of that game now." He moved closer to me. I wanted to get out of there and run, but a Finnigan has never run from a challenge, so I stood and stared defiantly into his grey-blue eyes. "I want to play a new game."
"Wha." I broke off as his mouth covered mine, and his tongue forced its way into my mouth. Well, me mam did always say it was rude to talk with your mouth full. . .