Sorry for the delay, I just don't get enough reviews for this story to keep me inspired or going..*sigh* but the ones who do review, thank you! OC'S ARE CLOSED.
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The Salisbury steak Ariadne was eating fell from her white teeth like a miniature meat waterfall. It dropped onto her plate ungracefully. The girl's green-blue eyes dilated until her pupils were huge pools of blackness.
"Blaise." her gravy-covered lips could barely form the word. She studied his chocolate skin, the way his jaw curved, his shoulder blades. As if he was carved from marble. Dark, sexy marble. His eyes caught hers and a fire was ignited in her belly. It was a searing sensation that rippled from her toes to the crown of her head. The boy did not react to Ariadne's stares or anyone else, for that matter. He merely sat across from her and began piling food onto an empty plate.
"Blaise…what're you doing after dinner?" Ariadne cooed, taking the fork from Blaise's hand so as to grab his attention. His eyes snapped to hers and suddenly something clicked. Blaise launched himself across the table and knocked Ariadne from the bench. His lips were locked in hers even before they toppled to the floor.
"Severus! Severus, control your students at once!" Professor McGonagall barked, pointing her wand at random couples to separate them. Severus raised an indifferent brow and shook his head.
"I do this experiment every year, Minerva, and I must ask if it's ever changed over time." McGonagall shook her head and stamped out of the hall.
Dumbledore walked into the hall inhabited with only seventh years and didn't even bat an eye. The headmaster walked through the calamity as if it didn't even exist. He approached Severus and made a suggestion.
"Perhaps you lock them here for the night. Remember last year, when everyone caught pneumonia from skinny dipping in the lake? Keep them confined. Like…livestock. Yes. Livestock." Dumbledore turned on his heel and walked back out of the hall. Snape ruminated his boss' idea for awhile—it made the most sense. He'd give them all an antidote in the morning.
So the Potions Master extinguished the flames of the torches, cast a spell that would make the students' clothes irremovable, moved the tables aside, and locked the great hall's doors.
He let the insanity begin.
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Over in a corner, Draco Malfoy perched on one of the many statues in the great hall. He kept cracking his knuckles frantically—where was Ariadne? He was sure Snape had shown him the right one—once he saw her he knew he'd fall head over heels, like the other da—
The other day? Since when did he fall head over heels for a girl like Ariadne? He scoffed to himself and stayed hidden from Hermione Granger. The girl wouldn't stop casting tracking spells and summoning charms to find him. The goofy look on her thin mouth made her look even more unattractive. It was pitch black in the hall, for Merlin's sakes.
He squinted in the darkness and finally his eyes found her white-blonde tresses—being tangled by long dark fingers. Blaise. In a rage, he leapt from the statue and landed on Neville Longbottom trying to kiss Hermione.
"Good. That should keep her occupied." he whispered to himself. He practically ran over to Blaise and Ariadne. His anger flared red-hot when she looked thoroughly satisfied.
"Zabini! What are you doing with my woman?" he half-shouted. Blaise broke away from Ariadne, panting hard and putting on an incredulous face.
"She's not yours, I got her potion!" Blaise growled.
"You sonofabitch, there was only one potion and I got it!" Malfoy's hair, which was eternally smooth and in place, began falling out of place as his voice rose. Blaise opened his mouth to protest but no sound came out, as a random Ravenclaw walked by, looking lost and alone. Blaise's gaze went glassy and he dropped Ariadne like a hot iron to chase the other girl. Ariadne screamed as her head smacked the marble. Draco rushed to her side and cupped her face with his pale hand. To his dismay, she began squirming to free herself from his grip.
"Blaise just left me like that! Why would he do that!" she fumed. "What does that little bird have that I don't? Blue robes? Does that sick effer have a thing for blue? Well why doesn't he just take a look at my goddamned eyes! For the love of God!" Fat tears rolled from the aforementioned eyes and crashed onto her cheeks. Malfoy leaned down and kissed each tear off of her face.
"Drink this, Ariadne. You'll feel better about Blaise." his touch was tender as he guided the vial to her trembling lips. She drank the antidote and soon her features had cleared of discontent and fear. Draco was endlessly glad he stole a vial of the potion before Snape could see. She then fell asleep soon after. Draco lifted her up and carried her away from the boisterous bickering of love triangles—or pentagons, for that matter—and brought her to the tables, where a miniature stronghold of sorts was accidentally constructed. He put Ariadne down and moved to lie beside her. Instinctually she laid her head on his chest, and was soothed by the sound of his strong heart.
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Draco Malfoy spent the remainder of the "experiment" watching Ariadne sleep. Sure, the fog of the Amortentia made him a bit crazy at times—but her cloying scent and gorgeous face slowed him down. He needed to take in that scent—she smelled like lilies and coconut—a tropical, fruity smell that encompassed a myriad of flavors. He wasn't sure if his sense of smell was acute while the Amortentia was in effect—but he realized he could smell her shampoo, her skin, and the chalky smell of her eyeshadow. It all combined to form the essence of Ariadne. The enchanting, intoxicating vapors that would assault his brain time after time, sending wave after wave of olfactory pleasure. It was to die for.
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Snape came at sunrise and cured the lovesick seventh years. He even decided to wipe their memories, lest they be embarrassed at their actions from the previous night. He graded each of them as they walked out of the door and to the dormitories to sleep.
Ariadne wondered why Draco followed her so closely. He didn't get her potion—or did he? She couldn't really remember much…
The trip down to the dungeons was virtually silent, many of the Slytherins were stumbling with fatigue. Wyvern walked next to Ariadne and complained of the taste of baked goods in her mouth.
"I don't remember eating éclairs—or cupcakes, for that matter." Behind them, Crabbe licked the last bit of frosting from the corner of his mouth. A lot of the younger years were walking out of the dungeons, looking at the seventh years with confused eyes.
"What're you all looking at?" Malfoy hissed. "Go to class and stop staring!"
With those words, everyone hurried to their destination. Ariadne finally made it to her bed and slid into the covers with a sigh.
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The next day was Saturday—and Quidditch practice started at dawn. The weather was supposed to bring rain and possibly sleet, so the Slytherin team wanted to get as much flying in before the storm arrived. Draco and Ariadne were the last out of the locker rooms, as usual. The female student plaited her long hair against her head and secured it with an elastic headband. Draco was merely waiting for Ariadne to finish.
"What're you looking for?" she asked idly, pushing a loose strand into the braid with a bobby pin. Draco, caught doing nothing, suddenly pretended to look for his keeper gloves, which were actually inside his uniform pocket.
"Malfoy, stop stalking me, you've been shadowing me like a dementor! Leave me alone!" she snapped, exiting the locker room with broom in hand. Outside, the dark clouds were rolling in quickly. It was still dark—dawn hadn't arrived, but the sky was considerably darker than usual. Ariadne kicked off the ground and was tossed a bat by her fellow Beater. She warmed up with a couple of laps around the arena and stretched her swinging arm.
"All right, everyone! Scrimmage time." Malfoy was airborne and calling the shots now. The Slytherin team divided and began a miniature game. Crabbe and Goyle complained about the cold, and Ariadne spent the majority of the game smacking bludgers in their direction. After about an hour of flying in the darkness, dawn came and brought no sunshine. Instead, it brought a rain that drenched the entire campus.
Draco called practice off early and everyone rushed to escape the storm before the thunder and lightning hit. Ariadne didn't really feel like coming down, so she flew higher into the clouds, relishing the feeling of the rain pelting her skin, the boom of thunder and rolling lightning. It flashed brilliantly, and dangerously close to her. She dove headfirst to the ground and pulled back too late. She tumbled from her broom and hit the wet grass, thankful that the team had left the stadium and hadn't witnessed her twist her ankle. Draco would surely kill her for this. She rubbed her throbbing head and looked at the locker room entrance. Glaring at her through the doorway was Draco.
He stomped over to her and began shouting.
"Are you out of your bloody mind, woman! How are you supposed to play with your ankle busted up?"
"Shut up, you git! Madame Pomfrey can heal it in an instant! So shut your trap." she spat indignantly. She tried to stand up but fell back down into the mud. Draco suppressed a laugh and reached down to carry her.
"You should be thanking me." Draco grunted. Her weight wasn't too bad, but the wet grounds were a different story. Manipulating the wet grass was tough alone, and doubly difficult with the burden of another person. He finally made it to the Hospital Wing, soaking wet and cold to the bone. He dumped her without grace onto a bed and turned on his heel to leave.
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A month or so after the Quidditch pitch mishap, the Slytherin team was well on their way to being in first place. Their chasers were always able to sneak the Quaffle past MacLaggen and Weasley. But athletics aside, the Slytherins spent a majority of their Seventh Year in classes. Ariadne was stuck with Draco in every single one. Even if she stayed after and asked the Professors to switch their seat, the rotations would change and she would be paired with Draco once more.
One day, in Herbology, the Seventh Years were pitted against the Choleric Caesalia plant. Each plant was given to a pair of students to successfully prune. If they pruned the correct leaves, the plant would grow and flower with bright purple blooms. If the wrongs stems were snipped, the plant could do anything from spewing fire to a toxic poison in the face of the unfortunate Herbologist.
Draco and Ariadne's plant would hiss in warning whenever a pair of clippers came near.
"Damnit! Why does everything always hate me and not you!" he groaned. Ariadne took Draco's gloved hand and guided it to a safe leaf. He snipped it off and it fell into the collecting bin. Draco then took the pliers in his own hands and clipped the one right above it. It got angry and burst with spores that latched onto Ariadne's—not Draco's—skin. Wherever they sunk beneath the surface a huge bruise formed. The spore then broke free of the skin and dissipated in the air.
"DRACO! LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE!" Ariadne screeched. She punched him in the arm and he fell from his seat.
"Damn, you try to do something nice for a woman.."
"What exactly were you doing, Draco?" she retorted hotly. "Trying to find the leaf that would kill me? Do everyone a favor?" with a fierce glare she ran toward Professor Sprout to find an antidote.
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Yeahhh so I have writer's block, so here's a little chapter to hold you guys over. How about some suggestions? Or a plot twist? I've got to fill in some time between now (October in the story) until Christmas break. So submit ideas and I'll credit you.
Much love, Katie.