Draco Malfoy watches on, bored, in his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with their newest Professor: Dolores Umbridge. He's never once learned anything in Defense Against the Dark Arts, even under the very competent but also very fake Moody, but this lady is taking it to another level. It's like…negative learning, and really a waste of his time.

Maybe he'll just skip from now on. His father's in good with the ministry, and on the board of governors, so it should be fine. Aaaand here's Potter to make things interesting. Draco looks up from his bored trance to take in the sight of the angry bespectacled boy, arguing down their professor with everything in his so-called lion's heart, about who else but the cheeky half-blood himself: Voldemort. Potter…is right, and to see the ministry so adamant that the Boy-Who-Lived is not only wrong, but flat out lying, making up tales to improve his own standing among the public is…interesting. On one hand, it's a bit infuriating, but on the other, it's also…fun. Potter's misery is always a good time, even if helped out the half-blood twit of a Dark Lord his aunt loved so much. The Slytherin King can only shake his head at the stupidity and stubbornness of both sides.

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OK, so apparently Potter is going to keep at it. Another class, another argument, and yes, she sent shots at Lupin, Potter's family friend and an actual decent teacher, and yes, she literally praised Voldemort himself, but…a man has to learn when to cut his losses. Draco can't stop himself from snorting, knowing that he himself is just not that guy, but still…Potter is not him. A sigh escapes his lips as Potter earns another detention and throws another fit. Learn something already you bloody goof.

Soon after, the Malfoy scion finds himself standing in the Great Hall, alongside his two best mates, staring distastefully at the paper being nailed to the wall. The Inquisition Squad, it's titled, along with guidelines and responsibilities, and other such rubbish. The Demon (little no longer fits) is thoroughly unimpressed. That…is just not for him. He doesn't enjoy being under those weaker than him, worse than him, and really, he might not like being under anyone at all, at least in this new life. He'd just end up comparing them to Ghost and to Crane, and it's impossible for them to measure up.

Plus, this Inquisition Squad reminded him a lot of the police. He never liked the police. He remembers it like it was yesterday when he faced his own father down in another life, smiled with a much prettier and more dangerous smile than he has now, and told him verbatim "I kill Police." Shaking his head, he glances sideways at his mates and notes that while Blaise is indifferent, Nott's interest has been piqued. He can only shrug as it makes perfect sense in his mind. Nott always struck him as the Gestapo type.

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Ginny Weasley walks through the Hogwarts hallways, having just been let out of class. She only had so much time until Astronomy, later tonight, and she planned on getting a few rounds in, maybe a hour or three of Quidditch to really work on her game. Clutching her books tighter to her budding chest, Ginny frowns at herself. She's so close, maybe half a step away from being able to lead the team to the Quidditch Cup, and with her and the newly crowned captain Angelina... well they even have a decent shot against Slytherin. At least as long as that demon Draco Malfoy still fancied them.

Her body shudders at the thought of the older boy, as she's riddled with a multitude of emotions. Disgust, fear, arousal, excitement, defiance, all of these and more fill her being, as for her, Draco Malfoy is…a complex subject.

The so-called Slytherin King is handsome no doubt, powerful, good at Quidditch, intelligent, evil. She shudders again at the thought. That's the real crux of the issue, really. A cute boy who likes her, who makes her feel things, who is a rebel and a bad boy, who is perfect in every way, except that he's in Slytherin and somehow more wicked, more evil, more vile than any snake who has come before him.

At least that's what everyone tells her. And what they have witnessed. And what he's like to everyone except her and his best mates apparently. And then there's Professor Dumbledore of all people—Suddenly, a hand brushes her hair from in front of her face to behind her ear as she stops walking on the dime, as if compelled. She looks around in confusion, only to see the very boy she was thinking about, looking at her like a piece of meat, like a predator stalking its prey. Excitement jumps in her chest, her heart rate speeding up tremendously, as he makes his way into her personal space, a smirk on his lips.

Their lips touch, and soon so do their tongues, as the evil, vicious boy, the demon of Slytherin, the Dragon King snogs her life, and more aptly described, her breath and any semblance of coherent thought away. The hungry embrace continues for eons until suddenly, he pulls away, detaching his person from her own, disentangling their very souls that somehow got connected despite the brief contact.

"Be mine." He halfway murmurs and growls, and Ginny finds herself at a loss. She doesn't know what to do, what to think, how to handle this ravenous beast in front of her, and…and…

"I…" Immediately, he shushes her with his finger, glowering or more accurately, drinking her in with his eyes as he does. She waits with baited breath, her heart thumping wildly, her hands shaking, as he finishes roaming the pastures of her body with his eyes, pastures that were previously explored with his hands not seconds ago. He reaches out, hand grabbing her face gently, only enough to bring her eyes to meet his own, to feel the passion in them, the emotion, the lust, and the want, the need. Their lips touch once more, just barely this time, gently, in a way that leaves her wanting for more, just barely suppressing a mewling whimper from escaping her lips and her throat. He keeps his hold of her face and meets her eyes once more, delving into her soul as he does, before speaking a single sentence that both delights and terrifies her.

"I wasn't asking."