Beautifully Annoying
Authors Note: Hi Everyone! I hope you enjoy this. I appreciate any kind of review you have. Good, bad, short, long, or anything in between or to the left is really nice. I quite literally live off of these. You should see me sell them for cash on E-bay. Quite valuable ;) Just kidding.
Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter. What, you gonna do something about it?
~*~*~*~ That annoying little twit wouldn't stop raising her hand! For Gods sake would someone please tell her that thing is eventually going to start a petition and sue her if she doesn't stop using it so much? Not that they aren't very nice hands, like I'd ever tell her that, but does she have to taunt me with them so much?
The glass Green House echoed around us as her clear, precise, slightly belittling voice pierced the still air.
"Professor Sprout, I think you meant that the ferns won't lay their eggs until September. You see, I read ahead in all of our textbooks over the summer and I'm sure that they don't lay their eggs in March."
I rolled my eyes. What a little know-it-all. It was bad enough she corrected everyone else, but humiliating the teachers was taking it too far, especially when she was wrong.
"Shut up Granger. If you knew anything you'd realize that when they hatch their eggs depends on what season they were potted. Don't be such a dimwit you stupid mudblood!"
Her dog-like Weasley stood angrily, obviously ready to pounce on me, though she restrained him by his sleeve. I knew, of course, that Weasley could never touch me. I had Crabbe and Goyle, and I was completely aware of how pathetic the red-head was with a wand. He was almost as bad at magic as he was poor, and that was saying something.
These last thoughts I spoke aloud and the rest of the Slytherins laughed loudly, watching me, their King, waiting for my next insult.
"Everyone says those two are meant for each other, and I rather agree. Weasley doesn't have enough money to buy himself some sense. If he did, he would see Granger was a stuck up, buck-toothed know-it-all with the hots for his best friend."
Everyone sniggered at this, though it hushed quickly when Hermione stood up, slowly walking towards me. A deep frown was deeply embedded in her beautiful features, and it gave me pleasure to know I had caused that frown. I could control her with my words as easily as an artist could sculpt clay.
She stood on her tip toes, meaning to say something clearly to me, looking into my eyes, though she teetered forward, losing her balance. Her mouth opened slightly in surprise as she fell forward, a short lived shriek escaping her lips.
Hermione fell forward onto my chest, her lips colliding with mine. Her lips were as soft as they looked, yes, I had looked, and I found myself wanting to kiss her deeply. Bu no, this is a mudblood, and Malfoys don't kiss mudbloods, even if the said person had on a delicious peach lips gloss. Aw man, this had to end! I was startled by my own reaction. I actually caught her, set her back on her feet and acted as if that short, surprising kiss had never happened.
And then she slapped me.
Authors Note: PLEASE REVIEWE!!!
Authors Note: Hi Everyone! I hope you enjoy this. I appreciate any kind of review you have. Good, bad, short, long, or anything in between or to the left is really nice. I quite literally live off of these. You should see me sell them for cash on E-bay. Quite valuable ;) Just kidding.
Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter. What, you gonna do something about it?
~*~*~*~ That annoying little twit wouldn't stop raising her hand! For Gods sake would someone please tell her that thing is eventually going to start a petition and sue her if she doesn't stop using it so much? Not that they aren't very nice hands, like I'd ever tell her that, but does she have to taunt me with them so much?
The glass Green House echoed around us as her clear, precise, slightly belittling voice pierced the still air.
"Professor Sprout, I think you meant that the ferns won't lay their eggs until September. You see, I read ahead in all of our textbooks over the summer and I'm sure that they don't lay their eggs in March."
I rolled my eyes. What a little know-it-all. It was bad enough she corrected everyone else, but humiliating the teachers was taking it too far, especially when she was wrong.
"Shut up Granger. If you knew anything you'd realize that when they hatch their eggs depends on what season they were potted. Don't be such a dimwit you stupid mudblood!"
Her dog-like Weasley stood angrily, obviously ready to pounce on me, though she restrained him by his sleeve. I knew, of course, that Weasley could never touch me. I had Crabbe and Goyle, and I was completely aware of how pathetic the red-head was with a wand. He was almost as bad at magic as he was poor, and that was saying something.
These last thoughts I spoke aloud and the rest of the Slytherins laughed loudly, watching me, their King, waiting for my next insult.
"Everyone says those two are meant for each other, and I rather agree. Weasley doesn't have enough money to buy himself some sense. If he did, he would see Granger was a stuck up, buck-toothed know-it-all with the hots for his best friend."
Everyone sniggered at this, though it hushed quickly when Hermione stood up, slowly walking towards me. A deep frown was deeply embedded in her beautiful features, and it gave me pleasure to know I had caused that frown. I could control her with my words as easily as an artist could sculpt clay.
She stood on her tip toes, meaning to say something clearly to me, looking into my eyes, though she teetered forward, losing her balance. Her mouth opened slightly in surprise as she fell forward, a short lived shriek escaping her lips.
Hermione fell forward onto my chest, her lips colliding with mine. Her lips were as soft as they looked, yes, I had looked, and I found myself wanting to kiss her deeply. Bu no, this is a mudblood, and Malfoys don't kiss mudbloods, even if the said person had on a delicious peach lips gloss. Aw man, this had to end! I was startled by my own reaction. I actually caught her, set her back on her feet and acted as if that short, surprising kiss had never happened.
And then she slapped me.
Authors Note: PLEASE REVIEWE!!!