I can justify anything.
It's not because of the way she looks, or because she is nice to me, even when I am being such a horrible person to her. If she knew, she would probably kill me. It's only because if anyone knew, I'd be in so much trouble. It's only because of the danger of consequences. I always was a risk-taker.
2.
The sun bounces off of her hair in the early morning light, reflecting against the walls of her room. It's times like this I am glad she is Head Girl. It does mean you get your own private room, after all. I always sneak in after everyone else has gone to sleep. Gryffindors go to sleep so early compared to Slytherins. We could never pull this off if our roles were reversed.
3.
If only she knew.
She has no idea that there is no love in my heart when my head is between her legs and she is gasping my name. Pansy. Pansy. She says it with such honesty, and it almost makes me sick to know that she has those feelings about me. Stupid mudblood, I think, as I go about my business like a robot. Everyone says you are so smart, but you haven't figured me out yet.
4.
This has been going on for months. I am starting to get bored with it. It's all just routine now. Sneak in after dark. Do my thing. Leave before morning. And the way she clings to me when she sleeps. It's unbearable, really. This has to stop.
5.
We have it out one morning. She tries to cuddle. I not only push her away, I push her off of the bed. She stands up, looking hurt.
"Why did you do that?" she asks innocently.
"Don't you see, Hermione? Haven't you figured it out? I don't love you. I never loved you and I never could. I just wanted to prove that you could do this. That you could love a Slytherin. Someone who's evil."
"You're not evil, Pansy. I know you're not." She's ignoring the point. Pretending I didn't say it.
"I'm afraid that this is over, Hermione." I reach into my pocket, gripping the cool wood of my wand. I am ready for this. I have prepared myself for it. No one will have any idea.
Hermione is sobbing. She pulls her knees up to her chin and hugs a pillow.
"Put the pillow down, Hermione." My voice is hard and cruel, but there is something in it that makes her obey me.
As she places the pillow beside her, I pull out my wand. Her eyes widen in fright, but she makes no effort to move.
6.
Avada Kedavra.
It's almost like it's the words that float out of my wand, and not a harsh green light. There is a great bang and her body slumps over. Those lips will never touch anyone else's again. Not mine. Not anyone's.
I stand over her bed, looking at her lifeless form. If I had any compassion, I would cry. Instead, I turn from her chamber and stealthily slip down to my own dormitories in the dungeon. My eyes are dry.