Author's Note: Look at this everyone! It's a double update! This is because when I was supposed to be writing a ballad in one of my English courses, I wrote two little Dramione one-shots instead! Yay for not doing my work!
Summary: The voice that penetrated his thoughts was something no one else knew about.
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter do you honestly think I would be worrying about how to pay for my post-secondary education?
Unable to tune out her voice, I listened to it with something akin to irritation. I shared a good number of my classes with her so it was quite difficult to not hear her. After all, she did answer just about every question the professors threw at their class; no one else had a chance with her around.
It became so normal though! It came to the point where it felt odd not to hear her voice. You might claim that I enjoyed hearing her voice and you wouldn't be wrong; I developed an unhealthy attachment to it. Oh, if my parents knew I'm sure my mother would faint and my father would slap my knuckles with his snake-like cane. They could never understand this attachment to the voice that had once so irritated me! Hers was a voice that would not leave me alone, one that followed me everywhere I went (or so it seemed to me).
But no one else knew of this attachment; I made certain of that. What would such an attachment do to my reputation? What would people say if they knew that I, a Malfoy, liked the sound of a Mudblood's voice? It was wrong and clearly I had done nothing to terminate the attachment. I couldn't bear to face the ridicule of my classmates. So I kept it secret; my own dirty little secret if you will.
So everyday I sat in class, watching her fawn over Weasley with indecent glee and I listened ever so closely to the flow of her voice and I claimed it as mine. Even though no one else knew, she was mine and her voice was mine; I would allow nothing to take her from me, not now. I could not live without her voice to break the silent monotone of my own life.
Her voice was what shattered the illusionary life I had been living; how could I permit her to leave my world then? If she did I would only fall back into that same dark place without anyone to drag me out again. No, I needed her and her voice.
Therefore, she was mine.