Goldmine
by Vera Priscaleth
Rating: PG (just in case)
Summary: Draco has taken up a new fancy… Lavender Brown? Ficlet.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling ownz.
Author's Notes: I just surfed through the net and stumbled upon the improv-thingy at femgeek.net [go check it out!] It gave me the pairing Draco/Lavender and the word goldmine and damn… I just had to write. I'm digging Lavender a lot. Is Draco OOC here? Tell me!
Pretty, but pretty isn't everything this world has got to offer. Why are you in my head? It's not like I want you to be there. What are you? You're something so ordinary, yet there's something about you that tells me I should be more interested. More engrossed, and believe me, I am. I'm getting so into you, I don't even wish to hide it. I openly stare at you, at Potions-class, when I'm not busy sneering at Potter or laughing at Longbottom's idiotic mistakes. I'm watching you, Lavender Brown and I hope you hate it.
For some reason I'd hate to think you'd end up liking it. Liking me. As if anyone could do that. Love, respect, what's it all worth? I don't love anybody, I don't respect anybody. Not even my father, because no matter what privileges his name offers me, none of them are worth it.
You look down on me, I'm guessing. As if I was slime of some sort. And I don't even care. But you are in my head, Lavender Brown and you aren't leaving, you're here to stay and I like it. Everything about you is unfamiliar, yet exciting. I'm sure it wouldn't work out between us. Pansy would never let me get off with someone prettier than she is. Pansy, that lame bitch. Slytherin girls are about as possessive as the boys, even more. Besides, you're not too perfect yourself, my pretty Gryffindor. You talk too much, way too much. You giggle, silly. You're just a girl. Yet, you're a goldmine and no one's here to rob you from me. Even if they do take you away, I should have you back. I like to keep things simple, no matter what anyone says. After all, isn't it all to plain to see? You're just a girl and I'm just a boy.
I like you. You're in my thoughts, tossing and turning and aching, but mending the pain. And even though destiny, faith, whatever, will lead us separate ways, I'm sure we'll meet again someday and then you'll be mine, because then I won't be a Slytherin and you won't be a Gryffindor.
You throw your head back and laugh at something that Patil said to you. Snape gives you a glare, you flush and return to your assignment and I smile, inside, so no one can see me lay out my plan. Mark my words. You will be mine.