Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. I know it, you know it, everyone knows it! You don't have to rub it in…
(A/U) OMG! I GOT THE 14th FRUITS BASKET MANGA! KYO SOHMA IS MY LOOOVE! Seriously, I'm so addicted to those books, you have no idea! I'm all for the Kyo/Tohru pairing myself, and it's looking like Takaya-Sensei agrees! AHA! …Goodness…sorry, please proceed.
Chapter 6: Grilled Cheese and Fire Whiskey
Lunch time came around, and still no one was home except me and Mr. Doom and Gloom. I was slightly annoyed at the fact that I would be stuck making lunch, not only for myself, but for Malfoy as well. Despite all my mother's best attempts, I'm still hopeless in the kitchen. Give me something to cook, and I'll burn it. Give me something to stir, and I'll spill it. Needless to say, everyone gave up on the idea of me being the next Mum. I decided to try my hand at making grill cheese sandwiches. Yeah, probably shouldn't have. It took all of fifteen minutes for me to have the kitchen smelling of charred cheese. I was coughing and waving the spatula manically at the black smoke that was billowing out of my frying pan went someone said:
"Gods Weasely! Are you trying to burn the whole damn place down?" I whipped around to see Malfoy come down the stairs. I was completely shocked, and for a moment I forgot about my unsalvageable attempt at lunch. He must have smelled the burning toast and come down to see if the house was on fire. Oops.
I watched him pull out his wand and wave it at the stove. The stove turned off and the frying pan flew into the sink, just as it finally caught fire. I watched the water in the sink bubble and boil with a hiss for a moment, when Malfoy grabbed the spatula from my hand. He pointed at the table.
"Go sit down before you kill us both." I scowled at him.
"Hey! I was trying to make you lunch, and this is how you repay me?" Malfoy looked at me for a second, and his face was unreadable.
"Don't try to make me food. Ever again." I had to stop myself from sticking my tongue out at him as I turned to sit at the table. I collapsed into one of the wooden chairs and watched him curiously. He looked so out of place in our scrapped together wooden kitchen. He looked like he belonged in a high-tech condo somewhere in the city. But here he was, in my cramp, scrubbed down kitchen with the sleeves to his white shirt rolled up past his elbows, holding a spatula. He reached up to the pot and pan holder that hung from the ceiling and unhooked a new frying pan. He turned the heat back on and spread some butter around on the bottom. I watched him as he then picked up two slices of bread from near by and buttered both sides of each one. He put one down in the pan and sprinkled cheese on top. After a few minutes, he put the other piece of bread on top of the now melted cheese and deftly flipped the grilled sandwich over. When it was done, he dumped it on a near by plate and repeated the process. Finally, he turned off the heat and put the spatula and the fraying pan into the sink. He picked up both plates and made his way over to the table where I sat staring at him with my mouth hanging open. He frowned at me and put the grill cheese sandwich in front of me on the table and took the seat opposite of me. I was still gaping at him like a moron. I must be dreaming…there is no way Draco Malfoy just made me lunch…is there? He frowned at me, taking a bite of his lunch.
"Honestly, how do you manage to mess up a grilled cheese sandwich? He asked incredulously. He was looking at me as if I were some interesting specimen he couldn't quite figure out. I frowned at him looking down at the sandwitch he had placed infront of me. It was toasted a honey gold colour and was stuffed with cheese. I took a bite, and I can honestly say it was the best grilled cheese I have ever had. The cheese was still warm and sticky and it just kind of melted away in your mouth.
"Gods Malfoy…where did you learn to cook like this? Don't you have house elves to do this kind of stuff?" I asked, looking at him in disbelief. He shrugged, taking another bite.
"Malfoy's are supposed to be the best at everything. I've known how to cook since I was six." I narrowed my eyes at him. If it were anyone else, I would say he was slouching back in the chair. But he made it look so casual, so comfortable. There was no way you could call it 'slouching', maybe sprawled? Nah, not even that covered it.
"There is no way you can be the best at everything." I said incredulously, but the look he gave me made me catch me breath.
"Try telling that to my father." He said darkly. I frowned at him, and for the first time in my life, I think I understood Malfoy a little bit. Families can be very stressful at times, especially families with high expectations. Everyone expected me to be this amazing cook…well, look how that turned out. Sure, it doesn't bother me now, but back when my mother was still trying to teach me, she would sometimes have me reduced to tears. I know it sounds ridiculous to cry over something so stupid. But when you are an eight-year-old kid who can't reach your parents expectations, no matter how hard you try…you feel useless, unworthy. It is not a feeling I would wish on anyone. Looking at Malfoy now, I think I knew why he acted the way he did. Because that's how his parents expected him to act. Somewhere, deep inside that cold troubled man, was that six-year-old boy learning how to cook. Not because he wanted to, or because he liked to, but because he was a Malfoy, and it was his birthright to be the best at everything. Maybe he was still just seeking approval from someone. Maybe all he needed was for someone to be proud of him…People take things like love and acceptance for granted, when there are people like Malfoy out there. People who have never experienced such things before. I looked at him, watched him take another bit of the lunch he had made for both of us, and I smiled at him.
"Well, this is definitely the best grilled cheese sandwich I have ever had." I said. He looked at me for a second. His eyes searching my face, as if trying to see if I was just pulling his leg. Then he smirked that evil Malfoy smirk.
"Not surprising, since you have been living off that charred excuse for cheese until now." He said, gesturing to the sink, which now had black flakes of burnt bread and cheese floating to the surface. This time I did stick my tongue out at him.
"Hmm. Very mature, Weasely." He said, standing up with his plate. He put it in the sink and went back upstairs. I snorted.
"Fine. Leave me with the dishes, it's not like I care!" I snapped after him, he glanced over his shoulder at me.
"I made lunch, you clean up." He said dryly, and continued on his way. I glared at his back until he disappeared up the stairs, but proceeded to wash the dishes anyway.
--------------------------------
It had actually surprised me that Weasely was so useless with a stove. After all the food her mother had made for me you would think the girl would be able to make some toast without burning down the entire house. Apparently not. In a way, she had reminded me of my mother, standing there, staring at the smoking frying pan, almost with mild interest. She looked as if she were about to say, 'Hmm, that doesn't look quite right.'
My mother had also been a hopeless cook. She would actually have the house elves make dinner and claim that she had done it all. My father was just arrogant enough to believe her. I smirked to myself as I opened the door to my room. I glanced around it, closing the door behind me. The door opened so that the bed was the first thing you saw when you walked in, which was why I hadn't had time to react the night before when…he came. I frowned and mentally berated myself for being so careless. I waved my wand at the bed and it slid to the other side of the room, and pressed it's self against the same wall the door was on. It wasn't much better, considering how small the room was, but it would give me time to reach for my wand if he came back again tonight.
I sighed and sat down on the window seat. I gazed out across the yard and listened to Weasely bustle around down stairs, cleaning up the mess. Tomorrow was the first day of school. School had never been my favourite place, but apparently, right now it was the safest. Most of the Slytherins that would have been a threat to me are in Azkaban, so that's not too much of a problem. The problem would be seducing Weasely. Once we've gone back to school, it will be harder for me to come up with excuses to see her enough to woo her. It will take more time, and there's no telling how much longer I have left.
I'm honestly not worried about dying. Really. There was a time when I feared it more than anything else in the world. But after spending a year as The Dark Lord's slave, I now know there are much worse things.
I'm not an idiot. I know how unlikely it is that I will even make it to twenty, and I've come to accept it. Really, I don't mind too much. It has even gotten to the point where I would welcome it. I think, last night, the only reason I really kept fighting to breath was the fact that I haven't taken Weasely yet. As she was leaning over me, trying to save me, all I could think about was how if I died, I would never get the chance to sleep with her.
I'm despicable, I know. I'm a horrible person, yeah, what else is new. But like I said, I'm past the point of caring now. If I'm going to die this year, I want to go out with no regrets. And I know; if I don't get into Weasely's pants, I will regret it. Don't ask; it's just a Malfoy thing. Once I want something, I can't rest until I get it. And right now, I want Weasely. I refuse to give up until I have her. After that, they can do whatever they want with me. It's probably too late for mother anyway…
All right, I lied. Even if I do manage to get Weasely into bed, I'll still die with regrets. I'll die knowing that I couldn't help my mother. I die knowing that I have given up on her…
Sitting there, staring out the window I knew I had reached an all time low. In that moment, I hit rock bottom. And I wasn't sure if I had the drive, or the will to stand up again.
I think I dozed off for a moment, because there was the distant but, familiar, whooshing sound of people flooing into the house. The family was back from their shopping. They were probably all prepared for school tomorrow…I wondered if the ministry had given them money to buy me books, or if they had to take it out of their personal savings. It didn't matter either way to me, so I didn't worry about it. I sighed again and heaved myself up from the window seat and made my way over to my trunk. I unhitched the clasps and lifted the lid. The two bottles of Fire Whisky were lying on top of my neatly folded clothes. One of the bottles was already half finished, and I had corked it up tightly. I pulled out the cork with a pop and took a swig. It was like liquid fire and I shivered as it slid down my throat. I could feel it coiling in my stomach like a snake, ready to strike. I wanted to get smashed and just forget everything…I would have to wait though. This was my last night here, and I was going to have to have my wits about me if I was going to get some serious seducing in before we went back to school. Also, I didn't want to pass out tonight, in case he came back…no, I would have to wait before I could drink myself into a coma. I did, however, convince myself that one more sip wouldn't hurt, and it certainly calmed the nerves. The alcohol burned like passion all the way down, warming me from the inside out. I shuddered with pleasure before corking up the bottle and putting it back into the trunk. I'm not an alcoholic, if that's what you're thinking. Let me introduce you to the word: borderline. Anyway, I prefer the term 'Dipsomania'. Sounds less crude.
Time went by slowly, as it often does when you're bored out of your mind. I waited for the sun to set as Freckle Face usually came up with dinner when the sun started it's decent. I could actually hear the cutlery down stairs as they all settled down to eat. They were talking about their trip to Diagon Alley, and other mundane things. Things families are supposed to talk about. The jealousy welled up inside me before I could stop myself. I wanted to be one of them. I wanted to be down there, listening to the stories…I wanted a normal family. That was one thing I would never have though, no matter how much I wanted it. Anyway, even if I did go down there, I don't think I would be able to deal with the 'family vibe'. It's one thing to say you want to join a group of people. It's another thing to actually do it.
Finally, dinner was over and I listened to Mrs. Weasely bark orders at every one. Weasel was to do the dishes, Pot-Head and Mudblood were to clear the table. Frackle Face was to bring up my things, and my food. She was also to stay with me until I had finished eating.
I glanced at my reflection in the window. I looked almost as tired as I felt. I frowned at myself and gave my wand a wave. The dark bags under my eyes suddenly seemed less noticeable. You have to appreciate glamour charms.
She knocked on the door, and I opened it, she was beaming happily as she held out a plat of food towards me and a bag full of books.
"Look what we got you!" She said, still beaming, and I watched her put the plate of food on the trunk. She looked a little confused when she noticed the bed was now on the other side of the room, but dumped the bag full of my school things on it anyway. Books spilled out from it, as well as a few new black school robes. I wondered vaguely how they got my measurements, but didn't bother asking. I didn't care about the robes, or about the books, or even about the food. I was still feeling warm from the alcohol, and watched her as she sorted through all my new things happily. The grey jeans hugged her body, and they looked soft and well-used. They sat low on her narrow waist; and though they gave the impression of a tight fit, I knew the material would give enough for my hands to slide in. Her hair was long and fell in soft waves around her shoulders. The cotton T-shirt was like every other piece of clothing she had. Old and worn out. It looked comfortable though, and it bunched lightly around her hips. I could follow the curve of her pinched-in waist with my fingers if I wanted to. She was a pretty thing, even if she was freckly and a Weasely. He large expressive brown eyes showed every emotion she felt. They flashed across her face and I could read her like a book. I had been so absorbed in looking at her, that I hadn't noticed she was talking to me.
"We are going back tomorrow…I'm so excited! The ministry has given dad a raise because our family played such a huge part in defeating you-know-who. All my books are new! You should see them-" She cut herself off, and looked up at me, she seemed to deflate a little, most of her excitement leaving her. "Well, I guess it wouldn't make a difference if you saw them…" She said, glancing back down at my schoolbooks that she had arranged in neat piles in order of importance. "You get brand new books every year." She said, frowning. I didn't say anything, and she plopped down on the window seat surveying me carefully. The window seat was long and deep. It was big enough that you could lie down on it comfortable whether you were directly facing the window, or, facing the wall. It was one of the better features of the entire house.
"Aren't you excited to go back to school?" She asked, genuine interest in her voice. What I wanted to say, right that moment, wouldn't have been too flattering, and she definitely wouldn't sleep with me if I let myself tell her what I really thought about going back to school, so instead I said;
"Sure." My voice came out sounding lower than I had intended it to, and it was a little husky already. She frowned at me, her lips pouting slightly and things low in my body tightened. I took an involuntary step forwards. She didn't seem to notice though; her mind was more on the idea of going back to school than anything else. I was hoping to change that.
"You didn't sound too convincing." She said, her voice still light. I took another few steps forward, they seemed casual enough, but the room was small and I was almost in front of her. I doubted she would let me sleep with her tonight, but if I played my cards right, I may get close. I shrugged.
"School was the same as home for me." I said dryly, and I realised I was standing right in front of her. She was looking up at me, her legs dangling over the edge of the seat. It was then, that she realised how close I was, and she caught onto the amount of lust in the room. She blushed furiously, but ploughed on bravely with the conversation. If that's what you would call it. Her voice was small though, and quiet when she spoke next. It was like the air between us was tightening.
"Must have been miserable then…" she said. I reached out slowly for a strang of her hair. It was soft and feathery between my fingers. When she didn't push me away, I brought my hand to the side of her head and ran my fingers through her thick auburn hair. I pushed her gently back onto the window seat. For a moment she looked like she was going to tell me to stop, so before she could say anything, I put a hand firmly on the wooden seat beside her head, and rested my knee on the ledge so it was pressed against her hip. I held myself over her and examined her face. She had the most curious expression on it. She managed to look confused and aroused at the same time. It almost made me laugh out loud. With the hand that wasn't supporting my weight over her body, I slid up her top to expose her flat stomach. She must do a lot of flying to keep so in shape. I was actually impressed. She gasped a little and I ran my fingers lightly up her bare side.
"Malfoy…" she said breathily, closing her eyes. She arched against my touch, making me smirk. I loved it that I could make her react like that. I loved it that I could make her crave my touch. I could see her struggle inwardly. She was telling herself to push me away, to stop me. But she didn't want to. I leaned in more, bringing my lips to her ear.
"I've gotten used to it." I hissed, and slid my hand up higher. My fingers brushed against the under wire of her bra. Her hands were clenched into fists and her eyes were closed tight. She was fighting the temptation to kiss me, and I loved every second of it. She was quivering slightly beneath me, and I traced the underside of her bra, my fingers barely touching her skin. She gasped again. The short burst of sound almost made me moan with need. Her breathing was fast and she was struggling with all she had not to give into the temptation and kiss me. I wasn't forcing her. If she told me to, I would stop. But she didn't. I whispered into her ear again, my lips so close that they brushed against her ear lobe.
"Do you want it?" I asked, and she shuddered and arched her back against my hand as I moved to cup her breast over the bra. I let my lips hover above her own. If we kissed it would be her choice. Her decision. I waited, my arm was starting to go numb from holding myself up for so long, but I ignored it. Her chest was still pressed against my hand and it took all the control I had not to slide under her bra and grope her. This had to be her decision. If she didn't want it, it wouldn't be as good as it could be. And I wanted it to be amazing. She was positively quivering, and I could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She opened her eyes and looked at me. Her pupils were dilated with lust as she fought against her morals. She opened her mouth, being very careful not to brush her lips against mine. I spoke before she could answer my question.
"Don't lie." I hissed, and I kneaded her breast slightly, for emphasis. She whimpered, and slid her hand around my neck. She touched her forehead to mine but did not kiss me. I would be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed.
"I…I want to, so bad." She whispered quietly, "But I can't…I'm not…ready…" Her body was telling me other wise. She was still arched against me, and when I sat up, she followed, so I was straddling her hips. I slid my hand down her front away from her breasts, and traced the top of her jeans. She shuddered again.
"I could make you ready…" I said, my voice low. I smirked evilly at her and alowed just the tips of my fingers to slide under her jeans, not far enough down to touch anything important, but far enough to make my point. She shook her head and gave a breathy laugh.
"That's not what I meant and you know it." She said, and she pushed me almost reluctantly away so I was standing with one foot on the ground. I traced the line of her collar bone gently and ran my fingers through her hair again. She sighed lightly, and I forced myself to back away from her so she could stand up. She were still so close we were almost touching, and she was eye level with my nose. I kissed her gently on the side of her head, just above her ear.
"I will have you." I told her quietly, but she didn't answer. She just pushed away and left the room. I smirked to myself when I was sure she was gone. It looked like the little Weasely was having difficulty bending to her morals. The question was, how much more would I have to push her until she broke?
(A/U) You guys left me such great reviews that you inspired me to write the next chapter! I've told you haven't I? Long detailed reviews make me happy, and happy authors happy readers…that is of course, only if you liked the chapter…well did you? Isn't Draco yummy? He's a troubled guy tho…poor thing…and, apparently he makes a mean Grilled Cheese Sandwich. Also, for those of you wondering what 'Dipsomania' is. It is: An insatiable craving for alcoholic beverages…according to Ha! So, well, anyway, leave a nice review, and I may leave a nice chapter!
Ashen