Have you ever seen something so beautiful that you couldn't bear to look away? If its beauty was so mesmerising that if you tore your eyes away, that your heart was rip out of your chest? I felt that right now.
I was sitting in transfiguration, Crabbe and Goyle beside me, and I was bored. Crabbe was scribbling on his parchment, Goyle was drooling; probably thinking about food and my eye caught the most beautiful mane of hair.
It was wavy, not frizzy; chestnut brown tinted with thousands of different colours. It was long, not too long though, and I couldn't for the life of me tell who it was. She was sitting between potty and weasel, I didn't really hate them. Everyone believed I wanted them dead; but I couldn't really care less. I just loved annoying them; seeing weasels face turn red in anger.
It was then that she moved; I was going to find out who this beauty was. I'm going to see her face; make her fall for me, so I can sleep with her; then discard her. Sometimes being a Malfoy with the most devilish looks makes life just too easy.
She spun around and her caramel-brown eyes focused on me. They looked familiar, yet I couldn't work out who owned them. There was friendliness in them, a deep understanding, yet I could see she was pissed. Her eyes were narrowed slightly in frustration as she stared into my own. Suddenly she looked away, and I saw who it was.
I knew who the owner was; of those enticing caramel-brown eyes and that mesmerising chestnut-brown hair was. It was granger, the mudblood, the buck-toothed beaver. What the fuck was I doing staring at her? It was not normal, not healthy, and atrocious that I even looked at her without disgust. She is dirty, a mudblood, she is friends with potty and weasel.
I still couldn't look away though, I have no idea why. Her hair started moving, and I was once again met by those eyes. They were full of fire, looking to kill anyone in her path as she slowly drew a line across her neck. Must be some stupid muggle way of telling me she wanted me to stop looking at her.
Trust me when I say that I wanted to stop, I just couldn't control my eyes. They were focused on her; I had no idea what the old bat at the front was 'teaching' us today, and I couldn't really care less. I would have thought that little Miss Bookworm would have been more concerned though, instead of being distracted by my good looks. She has never been before, I think.
I could use this to my advantage though, to work my way into the order, to serve my master better. Make those idiots following Bumbledore believe I'm working for them, but in reality be planning to murder them all. It would increase my ranking, push me in front of Snape, I would be favourite. I would kick ass!
But how can I woo her, make her want me? I need her to fell for me, to convince the others to let me in. it should be easy though, I can just feed her a sob-story and she'll melt into my awaiting arms. It is certain, she is just too sympathetic; she feels sorry for House Elves! They are meant to be enslaved, they love it!
I will make her want me, I will use her, discard of her; after offcourse I have made my ranking with the Dark Lord. The world will be mine!
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Mwah
Queen of the Scoubies