A/N:Another chapter for you m'dears! ^_^ I'm still working on Serpent's Tongues and Lion's Tails. Just working hard on getting it right before I submit it. ^_^ Hope you like. :)
Thank you for all the wonderful reviews so far :D
**Hermione's 'little sister' has a terrible obsession with a certain sexy Slytherin. Hermione goes psycho, Draco gets even, and Ron just looks stupid… Again. **
Scaring the Mudblood
So now he was sat, getting steadily drunker in the noisy Slytherin Common Room. The night was drawing on and more and more students were filtering through to their dorms. All he could do, was sit and sulk and hate her after the previous night.
He'd gone to his room, eager for sleep, eager for nothingness. He was grateful for the blackness that a good nights sleep would bring.
However, it didn't.
Instead of nothing but darkness or his usual nightmares, his dreams were riddled with long, slender legs. Skin on skin, sweaty, hot and steamy. Smooth, creamy skin against his porcelain toned body. Her hair sprawled on the pillow beneath him. Her eyes closed, long dark lashes on flushed, rosy skin.
He was panting, trying to catch his breath.
He moved, the rhythm building and the feeling intensifying. He could smell her on his skin, taste her on his tongue and he moved freely, quickening his pace. He could hear her moaning beneath him, the sound, the smell, the feeling; it was intoxicating.
He was so close. He could feel it as he bunched the sheets between his fingers. Her soft, smooth skin rubbed against his and he could feel the heat sizzling in the air around them.
He could feel her… taste her…
Suddenly his world plummeted sideways. He opened his eyes as he fell and instead of finding the bed with red sheets from his dream, he was half tangled in his… Falling out of it.
He growled at the pain as his body hit the floor. Then he growled down at his evident frustration. Fucking hell.
There had to be something wrong with him. That was the only possible answer.
He wrapped the green, silk robes around the lower half of his naked body. He must have fallen asleep and wound up completely covered by the blankets. Because now he was up, he could feel the sweat on his head, his neck and his back. But it was making him cold now. The air around him showed too many signs of winter.
He growled to himself and sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. He lay back down, staring at the bed hangings. But he couldn't sleep. He couldn't ignore the raging hard on he now had.
With a long, low growl, he wrapped the blankets around his waist again before storming into the bathroom. He slammed his door behind him. Hoping it would wake her up. She deserved it. She did this to him.
But as he showered, rubbing his hand furiously over his pulsing problem, he couldn't lie to himself.
Thoughts of her entered his head again. Her hair, her eyes, her lips, her legs. And it was over all too quickly. Something that never, ever happened to Draco Malfoy.
He turned the shower to cold, leant all his weight on his arm. His hand on the wall as he leant over and let the cold water run over his head and down his back.
What the fuck was happening to him?
He had sat on the edge of his bed, towel around his waist, staring into nothingness. Trying to work out why. And what was wrong with him? And what to do. Because thoughts of her were consuming him.
And now he sat in the Slytherin common room. It was almost empty now, as he sat on the edge of the seat, like he had the night before on his bed. His head fell into his hands as he looked at the bottle of whiskey on the table.
Odgen's Fire Whiskey… You are a Godsend.
Whoever Odgen had been… He was a good wizard.
He had already shared a bottle with Blaise but he had taken what remained to his room with him. Closely followed by a Slytherin girl with long, straight black hair. Pansy had been around for a while, undid his shirt to run her hands along his chest, but he had dismissed her early on. He had no idea, or care, as to where she was now.
He was trying to find the bright side in all this. Because so far all the plotting had done was driven her deeper into his head, into his mind. She was there all the time now. He could still smell her; her scent was stuck in his head.
The only plus side he could think of, from the previous day's events, was that he had left her with the question of what he'd done, when walking Mouse-girl back to her dorm. Hopefully the query and worry would consume her until her head exploded. Hopefully.
Because he felt like his was about to implode.
He grabbed the new bottle of Fire Whiskey, having only had a few swigs from it since Blaise had gone to bed. The noise of it scraping on the table grated him. His head was too full of noise. Too full of her.
He wasn't an idiot. Even though he could tell he'd had too much to drink. He took all the secret passageways he knew of to get back to his common room without being seen. A drunk Head Boy, with a bottle of Odgens, out in the middle of the night, wouldn't look good. It was close to midnight anyway, so the older students would be returning before curfew.
He reached the common room, stumbling up to the portrait as she flirted at him. He didn't hear her words. Merely let her compliment him, then comment on how much he was swaying… finally she let him in, a bit disgruntled.
He staggered into the room, sneering instantly when he saw Granger lying on the floor. He cocked his head to the side, taking in her slender legs… the damn, stupid shorts.
He was to late to straighten himself. Granger turned to see him smirking at her, his eyes on her arse. He saw the horror and outrage in her eyes as she scrambled about, getting to her feet.
"Malfoy what…"
She began as she turned towards him. But he was sneering, sniggering. He watched as she glared at him, taken of guard by his low, chuckling. He knocked books from the arm of the sofa and chuckled to himself more.
It was all her fault. It was all- her- fault.
His parents were where they were because of her. Because of Wonder Boy. Because of dickhead Weasel. His father was in jail, when he should be around to clear his head of all those thoughts that filled it.
And even now, he should have been more aware of where his eyes were resting.
They stared at her chest this time. White strappy pyjama top, stretched across a sizable pair of breasts. Not as big as Pansy's but big enough. A nice size. Her arms were crossed over her chest, making her cleavage more defined. He couldn't help but ogle at it. The sober side of his brain scolding him for it.
"Malfoy, we need to talk."
And if she had noticed what he was doing, where he was looking, she was very defiantly ignoring it.
He supposed she wanted to talk about the previous night. To question him on what was said, what was done… who was done, for that matter.
"Malfoy…" She was frowning at him again as he swayed slightly. "Are you drunk?"
Her voice sounded so incredulous. So grating. So typically Granger.
"Are you drunk?"
He mocked her in a high-pitched voice. He knew it was immature but he could never pass up an opportunity to annoy her.
"Live a little Granger. Here… have some."
He offered her the bottle but she merely eyed it cautiously.
"You shouldn't be drinking…" He let out a small noise of amusement, as he flopped down onto the sofa, leaning back into the soft, cushions. He moved the bottle from her direction, placing it and his wand on the arm of the sofa. She was obviously not going to partake in a drink so why should he waste it?
She stepped in front of him, having taken two steps back as he moved into her personal space, uncaring.
"It's poison. All you're doing is poisoning your body…"
He let out a loud laugh at that.
"Not to mention it's forbidden."
Her stern face was still scowling back at him but he was still finding it all very amusing.
"Don't tell me you've never had a proper drink before Granger?"
He rose to his feet again in a fast, fluid motion, grabbing the bottle of whiskey. She took a step back.
"No… I haven't."
And she sounded so proud of that fact that he let out another bark of laughter.
"Wow! You take frigid to a whole new level."
He began to stalk towards her- quick, determined steps. He was too quick for her. He saw her go for wand as she side-stepped, putting an armchair between them, as she neared the large, mahogany table they used to study at.
He was too fast. He saw that realisation flash in her eyes.
"Malfoy."
And he supposed it was meant to be a warning. But it didn't sound much like that to him... Not even if he'd cared enough to listen to it.
She stood, her hands on the back of the chair. Her eyes darted to her wand on the floor, where she'd been when he entered. Neither of them had their wands on them.
Damn.
He swatted the chair away with one fling from his arm, not taking his eyes from her. And he supposed he must look predatory but then, that was the intention.
"Mal…"
She started, but he lunged forward, placing a finger to her lips.
Her lips… Merlin they looked so ripe… so desperate for a kiss. A hungry, devouring kiss.
And here came the sickness, as if on queue. Merlin he hated her… For all she was, and all that she wasn't and because that perfect, slender body was wasted on her.
Her eyes were wide for a second as his finger pressed against her lips. He felt her still, her whole body frozen in anticipation, over what he would do and where she should run.
Her eyes stared back at his as he sneered.
"Go on Granger… You know you want to." He offered her the bottle of fire whiskey, turning to her side slightly, breathing her in. The smell of her shampoo, the smell of her skin… The smell of her fear.
He hated to admit it… But it was intoxicating.
She eyed the bottle as he took his finger away from her lips, drinking her in with his eyes.
She was wearing those damn shorts and a strappy, low cut, white top… fuck.
He motioned the bottle at her again, the liquid swilling against the glass as he tried to tempt her. He moved closer, fluid movements like a snake. He leant into her, breathing into her ear.
"Go on Granger… Let go."
Because he was suddenly curious to see what a drunk Granger was like.
"Be a rebel. Drop the Book-Worm persona. Prove to me that you're not just a frigid whore. Show me why it is Potty and Weasel hang around you… Prove to me that you can be something more than a stuck up bitch…"
Silence as her stony cold eyes stared up at him.
She didn't move, just stared. He let out a huff of amusement, before leaning into her neck. He was aware of the double-entendre, in what he'd said. That look was worth it all.
He reached out. His long fingers swept back the riotous curls at her neck. He leant in, breathing her in again.
… Intoxicated and sickened.
And not just by her. What was he doing? He could vaguely hear his father's voice in the back of his head.
If they are nothing but whores, father, then all I have to do is make her one.
He smirked to himself before he gave the curve of her neck a long, slow lick. He felt her breath hitch, more than heard it. He felt her whole body react to him as she tried to keep determinedly still.
He could taste her fear on his skin.
He reached her ear, smiling darkly.
"Prove yourself to me Granger."
A whisper on her skin.
He came round to look back at those stony, angry eyes. And he wasn't disappointed. Flames blazed there.
Her lips parted, his eyes suddenly mesmerized by them as he held the bottle to her.
"I'm perfectly happy with my persona Malfoy. I don't need to prove myself to anyone… least of all you."
What?
And suddenly he stumbled slightly as her arms pushed abruptly at his chest. He scowled, maybe even growled, as he kept his ground but spilt whiskey down his front.
He looked up, fuming.
She was moving again, making a bid for escape and heading towards the staircase.
He moved, faster than her, even with the alcohol thrumming through his inebriated body.
"Where do you think you're going Granger?" he growled through gritted teeth.
He grabbed her upper arm tightly and she stumbled, calling out as he forced her to a halt, turning her around. He ignored her small cries of pain as she struggled and he grabbed the back of her head, his fingers curling through her hair. His index finger held the bottle of whiskey against her head, and he almost hoped it would smash against it.
Then again, that would be a waste of good whiskey.
He grabbed her hair tightly; saw the pain in her face. This time she didn't try to hide it.
"Look what you did Granger…" he scalded, motioning to his soaked shirt and chest. He was suddenly very aware that even with his shirt open, she had not once looked at him, drinking in his body the way he had hers.
It just pissed him off even more.
Her eyes were tightly closed, pain in her expression but he didn't give a fuck.
"Look what you did…" he repeated, and then decided; "I think you should lick it off for me." He forced her head forwards, trying to push her to his chest as she fought against him.
"Ow!" she cried out. "Malfoy, stop it! You're drunk!"
"No shit!"
His sardonic reply wasn't lost on her, but she was still fighting, struggling against him.
"Go on Granger. I'm sure you've always wanted to see what a pureblood tastes like… here's your one and only chance."
He was smiling darkly down at her, he knew it. He couldn't help it… She just looked so delicious fighting against him.
And how fucked up was that?
He let go of her head, laughing, but kept a hold of her upper arm.
"Do you think you're better than me? Is that it Granger?"
He growled, his lip curling up into an angry sneer as he held her struggling body.
"No!" she cried out but he didn't think she'd heard the question. She was so busy trying to get out of his vice like grip on her arm. He knew it would bruise her. But he didn't care. She was Granger. She was beneath him and if he wanted to toy with her then he would.
"Ow! Stop it!"
And then she seemed to catch herself. She stopped crying out, struggling. She stilled, straightening as she set her flaming eyes on his.
"Let me go." She bit out angrily.
There's my girl.
He laughed, at both himself and her. Because how fucked up was this? And thoughts of her had been haunting him. No one else. Just her. And it sickened him.
But the bile remained where it belonged.
"You wasted my whiskey Granger. I can't let you off that lightly." He smirked.
"You'll be lucky if I don't report you, for said whiskey."
She glowered at him and the smirk fell from his face.
He steered her around, saw the flash of alarm in her eyes, at the anger that had risen in his.
He forced her violently into the table, ignored her cry of pain as she hit it. Shoved her back when she tried to push away. She'd probably have a massive bruise on her hip tomorrow… Good.
He glared darkly at her for a moment, some of his fringe in his eyes.
She kept up the look, kept up the anger. Didn't disappoint him.
Very determinedly, his eyes not moving from hers, he raised the bottle of whiskey. He raised it over her head, emptying the entire contents of the bottle over her. He saw her shoulders rise slightly, as the cold liquid covered her.
Part of him hoped she would drown on it. Another part said he wasn't finished with her yet.
She blinked as the liquid ran down her face, stinging her eyes, before she closed them.
He just stared.
Dark, angry. Hungry.
He waited a moment. Waited until she could open her eyes, watery with the sting of the alcohol. He flung the bottle away from them. Watched her delicious flinch as it hit the wall behind her, and smashed.
"You're not going to tell anyone, are you Granger?"
He had her pinned now. She stood against the edge of the table, between both his arms as he leant in. He stood with his weight on his arms, his hands on the table.
"Mostly because it's you that smells like a brewery."
She looked up at him, the anger still there, but she mostly looked very much the victim.
His mouth watered and he looked down at her lips again.
Maybe she saw him, because she moved to flee again, but was trapped. He forced her back. She stumbled when she hit the table and fell back against it. She lay on her side for a second, pain probably paralyzing her, before she hurried to move.
But he was too quick. He pushed her back. Grabbed her wrists when her hands moved to shove at his chest.
He laughed darkly as he held her there, her body still slightly twisted against the table. She was lying flat out on top of it now. Held down by him.
He saw the beads of whiskey running slowly down her hair, onto her chest.
Merlin, how he wanted to lick that up. He saw her white top had gone see-through… and she wasn't wearing a bra. No wonder she'd crossed her arms over her chest.
Her eyes were wide. Still fury, still fighting… Always.
He smirked down at her. Bent over the table, over her.
He held her hands either side of her head. The predicament of her situation seemed to sink in. He watched the fear seep into her eyes. Smelt it, tasted it, breathed it in from the air around him.
He leant close to her neck, whispering against it.
"Scared Granger?" He smirked again, the scent of her was tantalizing, even with the stench of whiskey.
"You're drunk…"
She tried to speak strongly, but it faltered on the last word.
"Get off of me." Stronger.
He had to say he was impressed, for once she didn't disappoint. She looked back at him, fire blazing in her eyes, as she lay trapped beneath him.
And it was so wrong and so right, but his skin was singing.
He merely let out a noise of amusement before he decided he really, desperately needed a taste of her.
He moved, looked her in the eyes, before he bent down. His tongue traced lightly against her skin, lapping up the bead of whiskey.
The lower parts of their bodies met as he pressed himself against her, bending down to reach her chest. He heard her stifle a gasp, before she struggled again. He let out a laugh as she struggled against his body.
"Wriggling around like that isn't going to help you. In fact… it will only make things worse."
He saw the fear in her eyes as the strength and resolve started to fade away in front of him.
"Please Malfoy… Please, I won't say anything…"
"Well we've already established that."
His charming smile, before his hooded eyes moved back to her chest.
"Fuck me Granger, who knew you were hiding this body under your robes?"
He let go of her right wrist as he moved to stroke her skin. His feather-light touch, as he moved his fingers down over the mound of her breast, to stop at her nipple as it began to harden.
Her hand came up of course. Tried to push and shove at him, but he barely budged. His body was toned, many years of Quidditch had seen to that. Her body strength did nothing to move him.
"Stop it!" A shriek this time. But he smirked as she struggled and he pushed her back down into place.
"Mudbloods are whores Granger. Let me show you your place in the world."
His head was spinning, but he was still breathing her in. Could still taste the fear on her skin…
And it wasn't enough.
Her eyes flew wide and her struggling frenzy began again, more violent this time. She tried to kick at him, but his legs were pressed against hers, holding her in place.
"Oh, come now Granger… I bet you're not this frigid with the Wonder Boys. I bet you even let them do you at the same time."
"No I don't! Help!"
Her scream surprised him. Humored him, more than anything. He moved his free hand to her mouth in warning. He felt her soft lips beneath his hand, her hot breath as he silenced her.
"There's no point in screaming now Granger, is there?" He mocked. "No one can hear you."
And this time, when he moved his hand, he placed it against her breast, groping at it. He felt a rush of heat to his groin but didn't care.
"Stop it!" Her scream again. "Get off of me!"
And she really was putting up a fight. He bent forward and sunk his teeth into the curve of her neck. Her scream ripped through the air.
And he was vaguely aware of how sick it was that he was smiling, as he licked at the sore spot he'd just bitten.
His hand moved to the bottom of her top and her hand grabbed his wrist, trying to stop him.
"Malfoy stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! STOP IT!"
Her screams filled his spinning head, but his eyes drank her in. he pulled at her top and stilled.
He swallowed down the sickness.
Four, white scars marked her stomach and just under her chest.
He was drunk. His smirk probably fell and she probably saw it. He covered it up. Smirked and laughed at her, as she continued to fight to pull the top down again.
He recognised that handy work.
"Wow. Aunt Bella really went to work on you, didn't she?"
And even in his inebriated state, he knew he was out of line.
SMACK
Granger's hand came up and hit him across the face… hard.
It was abruptly followed by an almighty shove and he was so shocked by the slap… by his own words, that he stumbled. He barely saw the blur of her body as she fled to the other side of the room.
He heard her scrambling and turned.
Both her hands held his wand. She was shaking but her eyes were blazing.
"Stay where you are Malfoy."
And he did.
He didn't know why she was still standing there… or why he was still in one piece.
"If you ever try anything like that again, I will kill you."
She warned him, and in that moment he fully believed her.
She yanked her wet top down fully, hiding the lowest scar from view. The fact that he hadn't moved seemed to placate her slightly. Because she took one hand off the wand to try and hide her chest, as she reached up to the bite mark on her neck.
"Did you get a good look Malfoy? Have a good laugh at your aunt's handy work?" She snapped at him. "You're fucked up. You are severely sick in the head."
He was sure his eyebrows raised at her audacity.
"You may be a pureblood, Malfoy, but there's nothing pure about you. If you ever touch me again, I will hurt you as much as your aunt hurt me… Then we'll see if you find it funny."
"You don't threaten me Granger."
I do that to you, come to think of it. Nor do you smack me.
"And no one slaps me and gets away with it."
"Listen to yourself! I cannot stress enough how much you need help. You crossed lines tonight Malfoy. Lines that I didn't think even you would cross."
"Shut up Granger. You loved every moment of it."
Because he had. And every other woman that lay beneath him did. So why couldn't she? Why couldn't she just be the whore she was supposed to be? Maybe then she wouldn't be so enticing to him. She would just be Granger, the whore- the same as every other Mudblood.
"No! No I didn't Malfoy. Merlin, you are so fucked up."
Angry, hurting, holding back tears.
"You wanted me to touch you… you wanted me to make you scream."
He was surprised by the flash in her eyes before she motioned his wand at him again.
"You don't come near me anymore Malfoy."
"Unless you haven't noticed Granger, we live together."
"I don't care. You stay away from me."
And he was suddenly so angry. So angry at her for who and what she was and for making him want her.
And she was right. He was fucked up.
He needed to get back on track. Remember the plan.
"Okay Granger."
And he circled the long way round towards the door; her eyes and his wand following him.
"I'll just go and find Emilie."
And her yell followed him through the portrait.
"No Malfoy! Don't!"
"Well, if I can't have you, I'll go and have her."
Her cries seemed too muffled in his drunken state. He glanced back to see her rushing to the portrait in desperation. Fear leaked from her eyes. The portrait closed on her, hiding her from view.
"Do me a favour darling?" Flashing his charming smile at the woman in the portrait.
"Yes, dear?"
"Don't let her out? Pretend you've got a jammed hinge?"
He heard the thump as, what he presumed was Granger, hit the other side of the portrait. He looked up at the attractive older woman, noticing she had taken a leaf out of his book and was drinking. She took a mouthful of wine from an elegant glass, before she winked at him.
"I'd let you oil my hinges anytime sweetheart."
Another bang and he guessed she was probably shouting as well before he heard more pounding on the other side of the portrait.
"Thanks beautiful."
He turned, head back in the game.
Thudding behind him still.
He headed in the direction of the Hufflepuff common room. Headed towards Emilie…
Headed towards the downfall of Hermione Granger.