Hi! I'm Ichigo, and this is my crazy alter-ego Kaori!
Kaori: We don't own Harry Potter.
And here's our story!!!!!!!!
Kaori: Please stop wasting exclamation points.Every moment, we make decisions which affect the future.
"Well, I hope you're happy," Hermione Granger said, crossing her arms.
"Oh, I'm simply ecstatic," retorted Draco Malfoy.
"The floor is marble," said Albus Dumbledore. "Do try to clean up any excess sarcasm you spill on it." The headmaster took his leave, leaving the Head Boy and Head Girl to stare each other down. Cold grey eyes shot daggers at angry brown. Unfortunately for Hermione, she was at a severe disadvantage in size. Finally, Draco jerked his gaze away and spat.
"That's what I think of you, and Dumbledore, and his precious marble floor," he hissed. He stalked off to his new room and slammed the door.
He dropped onto his massive mahogany bed and stared up at the emerald-green canopy. He couldn't believe he was stuck with Mudblood Granger as Head Girl. And the private quarters? It was almost as if they expected the Head Boy and Girl to breed and produce children who could also grow up and be Head Boy and Girl. He caught himself before he could let the thought drift any farther. The idea of sleeping with Granger was nauseating.
Though she really had grown very pretty in the past few years. When she had first come to Hogwarts, she had been quite the Ugly Duckling, with her large front teeth and bushy hair and awkward, eleven-year-old figure. But, like most eleven-year-olds, she had grown into her hands and feet, and she had grown long legs and breasts.
Gods, had she grown breasts. By the end of last year, she had begun to think that someone had cast a Breast Curse on her for the amusement of all the heterosexual males. She had grown to the point where her clothes didn't fit right and she literally had to flatten herself with Spell-O-Tape to keep them from popping out. It had been the most mortifying experience of her life.
Hermione shuddered as she remembered the last two months of school. But now a summer had gone by, she had new clothes which fit her, she was Head Girl, she was the school's top student, and she had a wonderful boyfriend. The only thing wrong with her life, (aside, of course, from the constant shadow of Voldemort), was sitting in his room, sulking about the only thing wrong with his life.
Well, not the only thing wrong with his life. Actually, there were several things quite wrong with his life, and at the moment, Hermione Granger was at the bottom of the list.
The first problem was his father.
Not only had he escaped from Azkaban during the Dementor revolt, he hadn't had the bloody decency to come to see his wife and son or even send an owl. Not that Draco wanted to see his father. There had never been any love between the two of them, and he certainly hadn't been the model parent. But even though Draco hated him, he knew his mother loved him, truly, deeply, and unconditionally.
His mother. She was the second problem.
Ever since Draco's seventeenth birthday, she had been pressuring him to become a Death Eater. She wanted him to be exactly like his father, the man she so blindly adored. But Draco would never take the Dark Mark. He would never allow himself to be the slave of another. And even if he were interested, for gods sakes, he was only seventeen! He wasn't really prepared to make decisions which would permanently affect the entire rest of his life.
He was seventeen. Seventeen. And that brought him to his third problem.
No matter how much class and society his parents injected into him, he was still just a normal, horny, seventeen-year-old boy, and he had been single for far too long. It had been nearly a year since his dead-end relationship with Pansy fell flat. No matter what, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was dating his sister. And Pansy felt the same way. So they both agreed to break it off.
The fourth problem was very simple.
There would be no Quidditch that year. Madam Hooch had retired after being knocked off her broom by a Bludger, and no replacement had been found.
The fifth problem was very confusing to Draco.
He was attracted to men. But he didn't know whether or not he was interested in girls. He had slept with them before, but he wasn't sure if it was because he wanted to, or because he felt as if he were supposed to. Maybe he would never know for sure.
And he had nobody he could talk to about it.
He and Pansy hadn't really spoken much after their breakup, Crabbe and Goyle were incapable of comprehending homosexuality, and Blaise Zabini was homophobic.
For once in his life, he was alone.
Draco opened the trunk at the foot of his bed and pulled out a large poster. It was the lead singer of the Weird Sisters. He looked into the poster's blinking blue eyes. The rock star winked charismatically and struck a sensual pose. Draco kissed it. The man in the poster licked his lips and began to slowly unbutton his shirt. The sight of the poster boy's firm, naked chest sent blood rushing down into his groin.
Hermione was tired of knocking. The only reasons why he wouldn't have heard her by now were if he were deaf, dead, or unconscious. She opened the door.
Draco looked up, horrified.
He had been caught.
Draco Malfoy had been caught making out with a poster.
He had been caught, by Hermione Granger, making out with a poster of the male lead singer of a band he pretended not to like.
Hermione was frozen in the doorway, a hand shielding her eyes, her mouth open, speechless.
It could be worse, she thought. He could have been jacking off to a poster of the male lead singer of a band he pretended not to like. She wasn't sure which was more surprising: that Malfoy liked boys, or that he was desperate enough to make out with a piece of parchment.
"Granger," he said, trying to regain his composure and appeal to her sense of Gryffindor decency, "I trust you won't tell anybody about this."
"Of course not, Malfoy," she said, an idea brewing in the back of her head. Then she remembered what she had come for. "Do you have any extra candles? I haven't got any."
"Well," he said, "let's see." He stood and began to rummage through drawers. "Here we are." He tossed two white tapers over his shoulder. She caught them.
"Thank you," she said, turning to go. "Oh, by the way," she added, "my boyfriend may be coming up tonight. I trust you won't tell anyone?"
"Not a soul," he said. She closed the door.
Draco flopped down on his bed again. He would have enjoyed nothing more than to tell a teacher that Hermione Granger, the perfect student, the perfect rule-follower, was bringing her boyfriend up to her room. But if he spoke a word about it, she would tell the whole school that Draco Malfoy was gay and kissed posters. It was like torture.
He crossed his arms and stared angrily at the poster boy. "I'm going to have to burn you now, you know," he said. The poster boy pouted at him. Draco swatted the parchment off of his bed.
He needed to clear his head.
Just ten minutes ago he had told himself he wasn't ready to make any life-changing decisions.
But now, he made one.
He decided to go for a walk.
That's the end of Chapter 1! I hope you enjoyed it.
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