"Don't touch me!" I screamed, pushing Malfoy away from me. He hit the cold
wall and chuckled like it was nothing.
"Did you really think Weasel was going to stay calm around me? To even protect you from me? Honestly," said Malfoy, stepping closer.
"So you were just trying to get a rouse out of him?" I asked, crossing my arms.
"You could say that."
"Ron would do anything to protect me," I quickly retorted. "Anything."
"Like just telling you to stay away from me? A few useless words wont save you-or anyone at that matter," he said.
I turned around and began to walk away.
"Wait!" he yelled, running up behind me and grabbing my arm. "I wanna show you something."
"Does it require nudity of myself?" I asked.
"I'm hoping."
"What is it?"
"Something that no Gryffinfdor has ever been in," he replied. "The Slytherin common room."
"Are you serious?" I asked, lightly pushing him away. "I am not going in there."
"Why? Scared? Are you too chickensh*t?" he asked, lightly grabbing my shoulders. "Miss Know-It-All afraid?"
I couldn't resist the challenge. I had to; no one calls me chickensh*t and gets away with it-okay. So I it's the first time I'd said that, but hey, I need some confidence to build on. "Fine. I'm in."
"Great. Follow me."
*
Actually, I did really want to see this particular common room. I had never been in there, but Ron and Harry had in our second year, taking the Polyjuice potion. They had described it as cold and heartless. The walls were of black granite or obsidian, one couldn't really tell. The couches were made of leather; ours was of cotton. Everything else was dark green, black, or silver. Red things were maybe just a trick of the light. No one really knew.
He opened the big wooden doors and walked in. He stopped and looked me. "C'mon," he replied.
I followed him in. "Wow, this place is beautiful."
"Really?" he asked.
"No. I just wanted to lie," I answered, looking around. I felt him sneer behind my back as I turned around to examine the dark brown mantelpiece. I guess everything wasn't silver, dark green, or black.
"Amazed?" Malfoy asked, plopping down onto the leather couch.
"A little." I looked into the fireplace and watched the flames dance. Ashes were being spit out onto the cold, stone floor. Looking deeper, I found that there was an edition of Wizard Weekly being burnt to a crisp. Looking closer at the paper, I saw why it was in there in the first place.
It was picture of Lucius Malfoy.
"You hate you father?" I asked, walking over to the couch and sitting a good three feet away from him.
"Is it that obvious?"
"Well, most sons don't go burning a picture of their dads in school fireplaces," I remarked, coldly-perhaps, too coldly.
"Well, most fathers don't go joining Voldemort's fan club under strict observation by the Ministry of Magic," he responded in the same tone.
"So, I take it, you're pretty mad at your father-"
"Wow, you're smart," he answered, sarcastically.
"Draco! I am being serious!" I said.
"Did you just call me Draco?"
I was struck with shock. Did I just call him Draco? Oh, god . . .did I? Yeah. I did.
"Did you?" he asked again, standing up and walking toward me.
I quickly stood. "No," I stammered, looking away from him. God, why was I acting this way? I don't even like him! He's nothing but a bastard! He is cute, though, and hot-really hot.
*But he hurt Ron, Hermione. Remember?* Yeah! He did. And suddenly rage was flowing in my blood and I felt my hands turn into fists.
"Are you blushing?" Malfoy asked, placing his hands on my arms.
I quickly pulled my arms away from him. How dare he touch me? How dare he hurt Ron? How dare he kiss me for no reason? How dare he ruin my life? How dare he? How dare he try to kill Harry? How dare he even live!
"No," I answered coldly, even though I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.
"You are," he whispered into my hair.
Why was he whispering into my hair? It's my hair. He has no right to whisper into my hair. He has not the right to even stand this close to me! Hmm...this gives me a rather fun idea: just wait till his father finds out that his Pureblood son kissed a Mudblood. I smell tons of fun.
He placed his hands on my waist and I jumped. "You just answered yourself," I muttered under my breath.
"What?" he asked, lifting my face with his finger.
I looked into those eyes. I looked for something-something that would prove to me that he meant none of this crap that he was feeding me! I kept looking. I found nothing. Then I realized that this could-and most likely- just be an act. That's it. A bet. A bet!
I pushed him away.
"What was that for?" he asked, throwing his hands up in the air.
"For everything." I turned and headed straight for the portrait hole. I wanted desperately to get out of this hellhole. Everything about this place was just creepy-especially the men in this place. Perfectly ignorant b*stards.
"What did I do this time?"
"You acted like you do everyday." I turned for a brief moment and said: "Like a b*stard," before resuming my wonderful exit.
"You-ugh! You try telling me that we didn't have a moment."
"Okay." I turned around and looked him the eye as he walked closer. "We didn't have a moment."
"What?"
"I said it once already. We didn't have a moment. Let me know when it sinks in, okay?"
"You are full of it, you know that?"
"So are you." I ran to the portrait. Thankfully, the evil witch opened. I ran into the hall, which was painful! In case the reader has forgotten, my toes have blisters. I didn't get a chance to fix the predicament because of Lizard Breath over there.
I heard running footsteps behind me. Malfoy was following.
Ugh. He won't give up, will he?
I ducked into the bathroom and locked the door. My breathing was quick. My heart was beating faster than its usual rate. I slowly slid to the floor and removed my shoes.
"Ouch. That looks painful."
"Did you really think Weasel was going to stay calm around me? To even protect you from me? Honestly," said Malfoy, stepping closer.
"So you were just trying to get a rouse out of him?" I asked, crossing my arms.
"You could say that."
"Ron would do anything to protect me," I quickly retorted. "Anything."
"Like just telling you to stay away from me? A few useless words wont save you-or anyone at that matter," he said.
I turned around and began to walk away.
"Wait!" he yelled, running up behind me and grabbing my arm. "I wanna show you something."
"Does it require nudity of myself?" I asked.
"I'm hoping."
"What is it?"
"Something that no Gryffinfdor has ever been in," he replied. "The Slytherin common room."
"Are you serious?" I asked, lightly pushing him away. "I am not going in there."
"Why? Scared? Are you too chickensh*t?" he asked, lightly grabbing my shoulders. "Miss Know-It-All afraid?"
I couldn't resist the challenge. I had to; no one calls me chickensh*t and gets away with it-okay. So I it's the first time I'd said that, but hey, I need some confidence to build on. "Fine. I'm in."
"Great. Follow me."
*
Actually, I did really want to see this particular common room. I had never been in there, but Ron and Harry had in our second year, taking the Polyjuice potion. They had described it as cold and heartless. The walls were of black granite or obsidian, one couldn't really tell. The couches were made of leather; ours was of cotton. Everything else was dark green, black, or silver. Red things were maybe just a trick of the light. No one really knew.
He opened the big wooden doors and walked in. He stopped and looked me. "C'mon," he replied.
I followed him in. "Wow, this place is beautiful."
"Really?" he asked.
"No. I just wanted to lie," I answered, looking around. I felt him sneer behind my back as I turned around to examine the dark brown mantelpiece. I guess everything wasn't silver, dark green, or black.
"Amazed?" Malfoy asked, plopping down onto the leather couch.
"A little." I looked into the fireplace and watched the flames dance. Ashes were being spit out onto the cold, stone floor. Looking deeper, I found that there was an edition of Wizard Weekly being burnt to a crisp. Looking closer at the paper, I saw why it was in there in the first place.
It was picture of Lucius Malfoy.
"You hate you father?" I asked, walking over to the couch and sitting a good three feet away from him.
"Is it that obvious?"
"Well, most sons don't go burning a picture of their dads in school fireplaces," I remarked, coldly-perhaps, too coldly.
"Well, most fathers don't go joining Voldemort's fan club under strict observation by the Ministry of Magic," he responded in the same tone.
"So, I take it, you're pretty mad at your father-"
"Wow, you're smart," he answered, sarcastically.
"Draco! I am being serious!" I said.
"Did you just call me Draco?"
I was struck with shock. Did I just call him Draco? Oh, god . . .did I? Yeah. I did.
"Did you?" he asked again, standing up and walking toward me.
I quickly stood. "No," I stammered, looking away from him. God, why was I acting this way? I don't even like him! He's nothing but a bastard! He is cute, though, and hot-really hot.
*But he hurt Ron, Hermione. Remember?* Yeah! He did. And suddenly rage was flowing in my blood and I felt my hands turn into fists.
"Are you blushing?" Malfoy asked, placing his hands on my arms.
I quickly pulled my arms away from him. How dare he touch me? How dare he hurt Ron? How dare he kiss me for no reason? How dare he ruin my life? How dare he? How dare he try to kill Harry? How dare he even live!
"No," I answered coldly, even though I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.
"You are," he whispered into my hair.
Why was he whispering into my hair? It's my hair. He has no right to whisper into my hair. He has not the right to even stand this close to me! Hmm...this gives me a rather fun idea: just wait till his father finds out that his Pureblood son kissed a Mudblood. I smell tons of fun.
He placed his hands on my waist and I jumped. "You just answered yourself," I muttered under my breath.
"What?" he asked, lifting my face with his finger.
I looked into those eyes. I looked for something-something that would prove to me that he meant none of this crap that he was feeding me! I kept looking. I found nothing. Then I realized that this could-and most likely- just be an act. That's it. A bet. A bet!
I pushed him away.
"What was that for?" he asked, throwing his hands up in the air.
"For everything." I turned and headed straight for the portrait hole. I wanted desperately to get out of this hellhole. Everything about this place was just creepy-especially the men in this place. Perfectly ignorant b*stards.
"What did I do this time?"
"You acted like you do everyday." I turned for a brief moment and said: "Like a b*stard," before resuming my wonderful exit.
"You-ugh! You try telling me that we didn't have a moment."
"Okay." I turned around and looked him the eye as he walked closer. "We didn't have a moment."
"What?"
"I said it once already. We didn't have a moment. Let me know when it sinks in, okay?"
"You are full of it, you know that?"
"So are you." I ran to the portrait. Thankfully, the evil witch opened. I ran into the hall, which was painful! In case the reader has forgotten, my toes have blisters. I didn't get a chance to fix the predicament because of Lizard Breath over there.
I heard running footsteps behind me. Malfoy was following.
Ugh. He won't give up, will he?
I ducked into the bathroom and locked the door. My breathing was quick. My heart was beating faster than its usual rate. I slowly slid to the floor and removed my shoes.
"Ouch. That looks painful."
