Harry noticed Abby's odd behavior first. "What's the matter, Ab?"
She looked up and smiled, shaking her head. "Nothing. I'm fine."
Ron courageously took a stab at making himself part of the conversation for the first time. "Has that bloke been er.. bothering you?"
Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Luna all snickered behind their butterbeers.
Abby giggled herself. "No. He hasn't bothered me. He isn't so bad."
The other five stared at her. Abby felt her cheeks heat up.
"You're barking," Ron said, forgetting his nervousness. "Malfoy's a ruddy prat. What are you doing sticking up for him? Are you feeling well?" He felt her forehead which was now rather warm by embarrassment.
She moved his hand away. "You know, I don't think I am. I'll see you in the common room tonight?" Abby dropped a few sickles on the table for her butterbeer. She got up quickly and left through the clanging door.
---
Draco was feeling rather sour. His plan hadn't worked out, because he'd grown bored, and then.. he saw her. He realized that jealousy wouldn't work for Abby. Especially if she was trying to get him jealous with Weasley. Draco laughed mirthlessly to himself as he strode back to the castle gates. The chirping of the birds was annoying him. His reflexes were fast, and he snatched a happily whistling, little bird in his hand off of a low tree branch. He squeezed it and it squaked loudly before he threw it unceremoniously to the side. Immediately afterward, he slipped in a great puddle of mud, and was soilded from head to foot.
Draco Malfoy, when mad, is amusing to the outsider's eye.
He pushed a small first year to the side, who had emitted a high pitched squeak, not only at his momentum, but at Draco's appearance. Once he reached the large oak doors he pushed them open and sauntered inside, glaring at anyone who looked his way. This was just about everyone. Who doesn't notice dragon droppings when they strut into a room?
With many squishes of his shoes, Draco followed the corridor down to the Slytherin common room. Once halfway to the bathroom, he shook his muddy robe off of his shoulders and threw it on the fireplace. It was an old robe anyways. He mustn't have old robes. New robes! Shiny! The best! Brand spankin' new, partner!
He worked open the buttons on his now brown oxford shirt as he opened the door to the lavatory. Draco threw his shirt in the sink and undid his trousers and let them drop to the floor as he stepped out of them. He took off his green boxers and threw them over his shoulder.
Stepping into the shower, Draco groaned. The warm pressure of the jets against his shoulders was just what he needed. There was a click of the door as Draco made the water hotter, allowing it to stream down his chest. He closed his eyes and let the water cascade down his face. The mud was washed clean now and as he went to reach for the soap, the shower curtain was wrenched open.
"Bloody hell!" Draco yelled as he looked at the person who'd disturbed his shower.
It was Warrington, the tall Quidditch captain. He was staring at Draco in a most peculiar fashion.
"Would you SHUT IT? LEAVE?!" Draco yelled, trying to cover himself with an oh-so-sadly-too-small wash cloth.
Warrington sighed as if he were bored. Draco looked at him in disbelief, then reached up and closed the curtain himself.
Warrington opened it again. Draco stared at him with wide eyes before closing it once more. Warrington gave a frusterated sigh and wrenched it open a last time.
"Would you LEAVE already?!" Draco yelled, becoming frantic.
Warrington closed his eyes. Draco rolled his own. "Oh NOW you don't want to look? ..Mate, if you're going to just stand there with your eyes closed you might as well step away and close the--"
Draco stopped. Warrington's features had softened. They had softened too much. Way too much. Why were they softening so? Warrington's face was becoming much less ugly. His hair was growing into large, dark brown curls now cradling... Abby's face?
"You!" Draco yelled, covering himself with as many bath products as he could reach.
Abby rolled her pretty green eyes. "Oh honestly, Draco. I've already seen it. Congratulations."
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Thank y--"
"You need to stop this possession thing that you have with me," Abby said crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"Possession thing? You're out of your god-forsaken mind," Draco breathed. "And will you pass me that towel?"
"Have you shampooed yet?" she asked in a bored fashion.
"What? No, but--" he started.
"Well by the looks of your clothes, you mustn't be very clean." She began rolling up her sleeves. "Give me that." She pointed to his groin.
"WHAT?!" Draco yelled, his loudest yet.
"Uggh. Dear Gods, boy. I meant the shampoo bottle. And turn around," she commanded. He did so. "Thatta puppet," she cooed with a grin that he couldn't see, but sense. She looked down and gave an impressed look.
"You're a vile, wicked girl," Draco spoke into to the tiled wall.
"Sticks and stones, love." Abby squeezed a small amount of shampoo into her small hand. "Nice arse, by the way."
Draco smirked to himself. Then he felt Abby's small fingers on his head and he felt a funny jolt in the pit of his stomach.
Abby struggled for a moment and Draco gave an exaggerated 'ouch!' "Well honestly, Draco. You've definately been abusing the concept of gel." A few moments later though, the shampoo and water had made his hair humanly again, and Abby's fingers massaged his scalp freely. Draco tried to remain still, and he knew now that turning around would be a terrible idea.
"Lean your head back," Abby said, as she tugged his hair back anyways, yanking his head under the jets of water.
"Gods, woman! I would have complied." Draco blindly swatted behind his head.
Abby laughed. "You're getting me all wet. And I take it you sleep with gel in there too?"
Draco remained quiet. "Err.. no. Well.. oh would you just get me a towel?" Abby reached for a towel, but when Draco looked over his shoulder at her he made a face to mock her. "One bigger than a rag, wench."
While Abby went to find a larger towel, Draco made the water its coldest and let it run down his front. Sure, it was uncomfortable. But it was better than his towel becoming a tent.
"Here you are," Abby said holding the towel up for him. She was lightly sprayed with freezing water on her face and she wiped it away, grinning.
Draco turned off the water and snatched the towel from her. He wrapped it around his waist and turned around, seizing Abby by the wrists. She tried to wrench her hands away, but he only tightened his grip.
"Abigail, DARLING, now what is it that you said earlier? I act as though I possess you, do I?" Draco plastered on his worthiest smirk.
Abby ceased her struggles. "Well you stormed off seeing me with--"
"Potter? Weasley? Which one? Which time? Which guy?" Draco didn't remove his icy gray eyes from Abby's green ones.
Abby sighed. "There was no Potter. And Weasley was just something nice I did for him."
"Oh. Well NOW I don't think you're a whore," Draco said.
Abby glared at him. "I'm not asking you to believe me. But I will ask you to let go of me."
"Not yet. I'm not done, here," Draco said, shaking the wet hair out of his face.
"What now?" Abby asked, losing patience.
Draco put an arm around the small of her back and crashed her small body against his. Without waiting to see the expression on her face he kissed her. Draco was getting pleasure out of the softness of her lips, the delicacy of her tongue, and the way her arms were now around him as well, her hands on his droplet-adourned back. When they separated he stared at her. Her espression was not what he had anticipated.
"Are you done now?" Abby stepped out of Draco's shocked arms and left the lavatory, the door slamming rather hard. Draco blinked at the closed door before rubbing his forehead with his hand and letting out a frusterated sigh.
She looked up and smiled, shaking her head. "Nothing. I'm fine."
Ron courageously took a stab at making himself part of the conversation for the first time. "Has that bloke been er.. bothering you?"
Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Luna all snickered behind their butterbeers.
Abby giggled herself. "No. He hasn't bothered me. He isn't so bad."
The other five stared at her. Abby felt her cheeks heat up.
"You're barking," Ron said, forgetting his nervousness. "Malfoy's a ruddy prat. What are you doing sticking up for him? Are you feeling well?" He felt her forehead which was now rather warm by embarrassment.
She moved his hand away. "You know, I don't think I am. I'll see you in the common room tonight?" Abby dropped a few sickles on the table for her butterbeer. She got up quickly and left through the clanging door.
---
Draco was feeling rather sour. His plan hadn't worked out, because he'd grown bored, and then.. he saw her. He realized that jealousy wouldn't work for Abby. Especially if she was trying to get him jealous with Weasley. Draco laughed mirthlessly to himself as he strode back to the castle gates. The chirping of the birds was annoying him. His reflexes were fast, and he snatched a happily whistling, little bird in his hand off of a low tree branch. He squeezed it and it squaked loudly before he threw it unceremoniously to the side. Immediately afterward, he slipped in a great puddle of mud, and was soilded from head to foot.
Draco Malfoy, when mad, is amusing to the outsider's eye.
He pushed a small first year to the side, who had emitted a high pitched squeak, not only at his momentum, but at Draco's appearance. Once he reached the large oak doors he pushed them open and sauntered inside, glaring at anyone who looked his way. This was just about everyone. Who doesn't notice dragon droppings when they strut into a room?
With many squishes of his shoes, Draco followed the corridor down to the Slytherin common room. Once halfway to the bathroom, he shook his muddy robe off of his shoulders and threw it on the fireplace. It was an old robe anyways. He mustn't have old robes. New robes! Shiny! The best! Brand spankin' new, partner!
He worked open the buttons on his now brown oxford shirt as he opened the door to the lavatory. Draco threw his shirt in the sink and undid his trousers and let them drop to the floor as he stepped out of them. He took off his green boxers and threw them over his shoulder.
Stepping into the shower, Draco groaned. The warm pressure of the jets against his shoulders was just what he needed. There was a click of the door as Draco made the water hotter, allowing it to stream down his chest. He closed his eyes and let the water cascade down his face. The mud was washed clean now and as he went to reach for the soap, the shower curtain was wrenched open.
"Bloody hell!" Draco yelled as he looked at the person who'd disturbed his shower.
It was Warrington, the tall Quidditch captain. He was staring at Draco in a most peculiar fashion.
"Would you SHUT IT? LEAVE?!" Draco yelled, trying to cover himself with an oh-so-sadly-too-small wash cloth.
Warrington sighed as if he were bored. Draco looked at him in disbelief, then reached up and closed the curtain himself.
Warrington opened it again. Draco stared at him with wide eyes before closing it once more. Warrington gave a frusterated sigh and wrenched it open a last time.
"Would you LEAVE already?!" Draco yelled, becoming frantic.
Warrington closed his eyes. Draco rolled his own. "Oh NOW you don't want to look? ..Mate, if you're going to just stand there with your eyes closed you might as well step away and close the--"
Draco stopped. Warrington's features had softened. They had softened too much. Way too much. Why were they softening so? Warrington's face was becoming much less ugly. His hair was growing into large, dark brown curls now cradling... Abby's face?
"You!" Draco yelled, covering himself with as many bath products as he could reach.
Abby rolled her pretty green eyes. "Oh honestly, Draco. I've already seen it. Congratulations."
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Thank y--"
"You need to stop this possession thing that you have with me," Abby said crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"Possession thing? You're out of your god-forsaken mind," Draco breathed. "And will you pass me that towel?"
"Have you shampooed yet?" she asked in a bored fashion.
"What? No, but--" he started.
"Well by the looks of your clothes, you mustn't be very clean." She began rolling up her sleeves. "Give me that." She pointed to his groin.
"WHAT?!" Draco yelled, his loudest yet.
"Uggh. Dear Gods, boy. I meant the shampoo bottle. And turn around," she commanded. He did so. "Thatta puppet," she cooed with a grin that he couldn't see, but sense. She looked down and gave an impressed look.
"You're a vile, wicked girl," Draco spoke into to the tiled wall.
"Sticks and stones, love." Abby squeezed a small amount of shampoo into her small hand. "Nice arse, by the way."
Draco smirked to himself. Then he felt Abby's small fingers on his head and he felt a funny jolt in the pit of his stomach.
Abby struggled for a moment and Draco gave an exaggerated 'ouch!' "Well honestly, Draco. You've definately been abusing the concept of gel." A few moments later though, the shampoo and water had made his hair humanly again, and Abby's fingers massaged his scalp freely. Draco tried to remain still, and he knew now that turning around would be a terrible idea.
"Lean your head back," Abby said, as she tugged his hair back anyways, yanking his head under the jets of water.
"Gods, woman! I would have complied." Draco blindly swatted behind his head.
Abby laughed. "You're getting me all wet. And I take it you sleep with gel in there too?"
Draco remained quiet. "Err.. no. Well.. oh would you just get me a towel?" Abby reached for a towel, but when Draco looked over his shoulder at her he made a face to mock her. "One bigger than a rag, wench."
While Abby went to find a larger towel, Draco made the water its coldest and let it run down his front. Sure, it was uncomfortable. But it was better than his towel becoming a tent.
"Here you are," Abby said holding the towel up for him. She was lightly sprayed with freezing water on her face and she wiped it away, grinning.
Draco turned off the water and snatched the towel from her. He wrapped it around his waist and turned around, seizing Abby by the wrists. She tried to wrench her hands away, but he only tightened his grip.
"Abigail, DARLING, now what is it that you said earlier? I act as though I possess you, do I?" Draco plastered on his worthiest smirk.
Abby ceased her struggles. "Well you stormed off seeing me with--"
"Potter? Weasley? Which one? Which time? Which guy?" Draco didn't remove his icy gray eyes from Abby's green ones.
Abby sighed. "There was no Potter. And Weasley was just something nice I did for him."
"Oh. Well NOW I don't think you're a whore," Draco said.
Abby glared at him. "I'm not asking you to believe me. But I will ask you to let go of me."
"Not yet. I'm not done, here," Draco said, shaking the wet hair out of his face.
"What now?" Abby asked, losing patience.
Draco put an arm around the small of her back and crashed her small body against his. Without waiting to see the expression on her face he kissed her. Draco was getting pleasure out of the softness of her lips, the delicacy of her tongue, and the way her arms were now around him as well, her hands on his droplet-adourned back. When they separated he stared at her. Her espression was not what he had anticipated.
"Are you done now?" Abby stepped out of Draco's shocked arms and left the lavatory, the door slamming rather hard. Draco blinked at the closed door before rubbing his forehead with his hand and letting out a frusterated sigh.