Adrian's POV

Present...

Fuck, what is she doing to me?

Does she really think she's just a stupid kid? Does she really not see how every fucking person in this school adores her?

I breathe hard, pulling my open collar away from the heat on my neck. Hell, I've even caught my piece of shit father looking at her once or twice over the years. Everyone thought the world of Lena, so why does she act like my opinion is the only one matters?

I march into Common Room, and instantly drop my gaze, seeing Marcus and Graham hanging around the fireplace. There's a familiar eagerness draping around each of their shoulders, but that's the last thing I can focus on even though I know I should. Fuck's sake. I need my brain on something else.

Heading down the steps, I growl, unleashing my pent up rage and swinging my fist, smashing my knuckles into the stone wall. I bow my head, closing my eyes and trying to focus on the ache in my bloody hand instead of the girl upstairs.

I'm losing. Whenever she's around, she makes everything small, and all I can see is her. All the months of misery she caused me and my friends suddenly doesn't matter, my focus blurs, and I lose sight of what she did and how my and I have suffered. And how she needs to pay.

I hate her.

I need to hate her.

I didn't have to force her against the wall the way I did. Just like I didn't care have to care about the tears in her eyes or the way she couldn't look at me before she walked away. I justdo, and I can't for the life of me understand why.

I didn't want to wipe away the hurt, I didn't want to touch her, and I didn't want to get her to scream at me again, because I have never wanted to kiss her more.

She cried, left me behind, and hopefully, hasn't left the Gryffindor tower since our little fight.

Hopefully. I don't want anyone else to see her all flustered and puffy eyed.

Marcus steps up to me, carrying a fresh bottle of Quintin Black and a rocks glass, setting it down in front of me. I pour a double shot and tip back the glass, taking down the whole damn thing.

"What the fuck was that all about?"

I tense, hearing Marcus's gruff voice at my side.

But I just pour another double, not answering him.

I'm just a stupid chest rises and falls rapidly, and I shoot back the drink, taking all of it down again.

I set the glass down, blinking long and hard.

"Jesus, Pucey. The hell happened up there?" Graham then asks as he approaches, sounding more worried than angry now.

"I'm fine."

He places a hand against the wall, leaning in as he peers over at me. "Bullshit, you're far from fine, mate." When I don't say anything, he continues, "Flint told us that he ran into McKinnon upstairs. Care to explain what the fuck is going on?"

I down a third shot, starting to feel the burn in my stomach blanket my veins in a warm buzz. The edges are blurring, and the tips of my fingers hum.

I shake my head, setting the glass down. Out of everyone in my life—my father, my friends—it ends up being her that drives me to drink. Her fucking eyes, a stunning baby blue going from defiant to mischievous to hurt to on fire, and then finally, to broken.

Don't be alone with her.

"Adrian?" Marcus prompts.

I let out a hard sigh, running my fingers through my hair. "Could the both of you just..." I grit out, "I don't know, fucking shut up for five minutes and let me get my head straight?"

"Why wouldn't your head be straight already?" Graham demands. "Because you know, we have a plan. Take everything and then take her, but all I see you doing is fucking around."

I immediately straighten and dart my bloody hand out, grabbing the collar of his shirt. "Listen to me, you little fucking—"

But he shoves my arm to the side, shaking his head and sneering, "Don't go there, Pucey. I want our little lion, with her pretty blue eyes, kneeling at my feet, and I'm not waiting anymore."

Not waiting 's already here! A beloved student at Hogwarts because of me. Isolated because of me. In the palm of our hands because of me.

And there's only so much we can take from her. They haven't been waiting that long.

But then I look away. Yeah, they have. They've waited to fucking long.

I push the bottle and glass away. "Where are they?" I ask him.

They both stay silent as they share a glance, still looking pissed but turning around and leading the way. I follow, the calm glow of the fire casting a shadow over my shoulders as we tread up the stairs, finding the sixth and seventh year boys dormitory.

Marcus and I aren't usually the type to get into fights, while Graham and I tend to disagree. Still, I shouldn't have taken a shot at him. But for some reason, Graham keeps challenging me, and I feel further away from him now than when he was in detention. What the hell is going on? I expected that kind of treatment from Draco, Miles and Derrick, maybe even Lucian. Not Graham and Marcus.

In many ways, he's the same as he's always been. The charmer, the fun one, the brother that always looks out for the rest of us…but Marcus…in many ways he has changed beyond recognition. He doesn't smile as much anymore, he takes courses of action he wouldn't have in his sixth year, even knowing the consequences, and not once have I see him do anything for pleasure since he's been out. Draco and them partied, drank, smoked, and buried themselves in pussy the first two weeks they were free.

Marcus, on the other hand, hasn't had a single drink or a girl in his bed. Not that I know of anyway. Hell, I don't even think he listens to music anymore. He needs to lose control, because I'm starting to get concerned about whatever he's keeping bottled up.

Following him and Graham into the dormitory, I spot the back of Miles's shaven head, slouched against the headboard, and Draco relaxing across from him with his hand resting between some girl's thighs.

Draco is the exact opposite of any of us. He rarely thinks about anything he does, and if someone even thinks about standing in his way—justified or not—he'll start swinging without hesitation or regret. There was a time when this had been a useful quality for our team. His reputation spread, and just the sight of him by the opposite team got them pissing themselves.

He also more than made up for all the vices Marcus wasn't indulging in.

I stop next to the bed, jerking my chin at Draco to get rid of the girl. He shifts, taking his hand out from between her legs and nudging her thigh, sending her off.

"This better be good, Pucey," he sighs. "She would've been a decent fuck."

My eyes roll. This fucking kid…

"Jesus, what the hell happened to your hand?" Lucian asks suddenly, eyeing my bloody knuckles.

But it's Graham who answers. "Got in a fight with the wall downstairs," he half chuckles.

Touching my thumb to the fresh cut, I ignore his useless banter. If I'm lucky, it's broken and I'll have to spend a few hours in the hospital wing tomorrow.

Graham takes a seat and Lucian sits up, all of them turning their eyes on me. Impatience and agitation were clear in their expressions, and I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling like there's a wall between them and me.

Because, after last year, none of us are the same. Everything is fucked because of her.

I narrow my eyes on Graham. "You okay to fly?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

I nod, stuffing my hands into my pockets. "Let's do this then." I tell them. "You guys ready?"

Derrick perks up, looking at me, surprised. "The mother?"

I nod again.

He shoots Draco a look, smiling.

"How gone do we want her?" Marcus inquires, standing up, suddenly back in the game.

"Six feet under," I reply. "I want my little lion cut off from the rest of the world. We'll fly to Pennsylvania tonight."

I don't have the heart to say the bitch doesn't deserve Lena. She's always taking advantage of her daughter's gentle heart.

"You guys go," Draco teases, leaning back and putting an arm behind his head. "I'll stay here and keep an eye on Lena. She's more fun to look at."

"Absolutely fucking not." I raise my eyebrows, anger downturning the corners of my mouth. "You're coming with us."

There's no way I trust him alone here with Lena.

Suddenly, Draco's lips spread in a wide smile and he looks up at me like I've just made his night.

Yeah, I suspect the little bastard is trying to have a go at me. Fucker.

Screw it. I don't have time for this. If we don't get a move on, the sun will be up before we even reach the broom cupboard.

"Wouldn't it be more convenient to just stay here?" Marcus looks pointedly at Draco, then at me and folding his arms over his chest. "I mean, why waste our time with some old hag when we could keep fucking with a pretty girl upstairs?"

Draco arches an eyebrow, doing nothing. "I'm listening…"

"Well, all I'm saying is that Pennsylvania is a long ways away. By the time we get there we could already have her under us," Marcus insists, arms still folded.

Draco smirks and leans back on the bed, sighing. "You're starting to sound desperate, Flint. What's next? You'll hex the poor girl into your bed?"

Lucian breathes out a laugh, shaking his head but not sounding the least bit amused with the joke. Even he has limits.

Not that Draco doesn't. We just can't know for sure. If we ever saw him do anything like that, we would've killed him, but he also never gave us the impression that he was that fucked up.

For now, we've adopted an 'if we don't see it, it's not a problem' attitude.

Marcus stands frozen, staring at Draco like he's just grown two heads, and then darts out, slamming his fist into Draco's nose.

Grunting, Draco's hand flies to his now gushing nose, holding the broken cartilage between two fingers. "It was a joke," he grumbles through bloodied teeth. "Chill the fuck out."

Marcus shoots up, ready to throw another punch. "A joke?" He snaps. "Coming from the guy who was thrown almost expelled for forcing himself on a girl."

"Oh, Jesus," I breathe out, running my hand through my hair. "What the fuck is the matter with you two?"

I stare hard at Marcus as Draco turns on him, as well, his jaw flexing and his icy eyes ready to rip him apart.

But Marcus doesn't back down. They stand face to face, Marcus a good foot taller, as they glare at each other.

"Fuck you, Flint. I didn't rape her," Draco grits out.

I shake my head. Why the hell would Marcus take a shot like that?

"We know that," I answers for Marcus, pushing Draco back.

The girl was fast asleep, and Draco—being the asshole he is—snuck into her dormitory. He shouldn't have done it, but he didn't force her, , Dumbledore believed differently. The girl couldn't consent to anything in his eyes, and Draco had simply fucked up. But it wasn't rape.

Marcus stares at Draco and then falters, dropping his eyes and taking shallow breaths.

"Sorry," he says under his breath. "I'm just on edge."

Thank Merlin's beard he noticed.

"Good. Now that that's out of the way, it's time to get to work," I say, hooking an arm around Marcus's neck and bringing him in. "Your nightmare is over. Her's is just beginning."

The hot spray of the showercascades over my shoulders and back, and I close my eyes, trying to drown out all the noise of the other players in the locker last few days have sucked. I've done everything I can to stay away from the Gryffindor tower, unless it's to make sure Lena's safe and sound—not that I'd tell anyone that—but it has been hard. I don't want to be anywhere else.

The mother was taken care of, and it won't be long before Lena notices, but the little run-in we had earlier threw me off. I know I need to keep my distance for now.

The one thing l've learned about what it takes to be strong is recognizing and acknowledging any weakness and then making adjustments. I can't be near her.

Not yet.

When I left for Summer break, it wasn't that hard. Out of sight, out of mind. Or, at least, out of the forefront of my mind.
But knowing I can run into her at any time now, see her in the Great Hall, catch her eyes as we pass in the corridor…I didn't plan on what it would be like to see her every day. Having her close is entirely too tempting.

She isn't the same little girl I met in the library all those years ago, and the fight I put up then to restrain myself was no longer necessary. She knows exactly what she wants, no matter the nervous eyes, trembling lips, and tough little act she displays. I can barely wait.

She's within walking distance, and I could easily pull her out of the Gryffindor Common Room and into an empty classroom. I need her on her hands and knees as I take whatever I want, whenever and however hard I want it. I'm going crazy.

"Shit."

I can feel my dick hardening, and I drop my eyes, seeing it standing straight out and ready.

Goddammit. I blow out a sigh and shut the shower off, thankfully I'm in here alone.

There are several players loitering around the locker room, Marcus having scheduled special drills with a few of us today, but l like to take my time in the shower, in no hurry to get back to the dungeons.

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I grab a second one and dry off my chest and arms as I walk for my locker. Seeing a few other players standing around and still feeling my dick hard, I place the towel in front me, not wanting any sideways glances.

Digging into my shelves, I pull out my school robes, needing to get ready for dinner in the Great Hall with the rest of the team. Since Lena's mother is gone, they'll be ready for stage two.

I toss my towel down and slip on my boxer briefs and school pants and then grab my watch, fastening it to my wrist.

But then, out of nowhere, the locker room door bursts open and a familiar, annoying voice calls out to me.

"Pucey…"

I steel my jaw, pissed off. Talking to Potter always makes my blood boil. However, he rarely ever tries to talk to me one on one, so curiosity nips at me. I turn my head, eyeing the younger boy up and down.

"Potter," I say, trying not to sound like a prick. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You know, Pucey…" he starts, not even answering me. "I always thought we'd get along."

I narrow my eyes, staring ahead at nothing as I listen.

"I thought, maybe when I grew up, we'd have more in common or speak to each other in more than just two word sentences," he goes on. "I used to try to blame it on you."

I clench my fists, standing frozen. The voices of the other players around me fades.

"But then you know what?" he asked, a sharp edge to his voice. "When I was about sixteen I realized something. It wasn't your fault. I honestly hated you as much as you hated me. For the same...single... reason."

I lift my chin, waiting for him to finish.

"Her."

"Her?" I ask, confused.

"You know who I'm talking about," he states. "She always had her eyes on you."

I sneer, shaking my head. "Harry, your girlfriend is your problem, not mine."

Not that she's his girlfriend—I know they're just good friends—but I like thinking of her as his. It makes all of this so much sweeter.

"But that's not true, is it?" he replies. "Because as I got older I realized it wasn't just her. It was you, too."

I glare ahead.

"You want her," he insists, "and you hate that I'm always around, and you definitely hate that she's my friend. You can't be my friend, because I have the one thing you want," he pauses and then continues, "And I hate you, because the one thing I have, wants you instead."

My heart starts drumming.

"So when did it start?" He asks, his tone causal while my stomach knots. "When we were kids? When her body filled out, and you saw how fucking beautiful she was? Or maybe...it's because you'll never know how soft she really is."

I squeeze my hand so tightly, my knuckles are starting to strain and crack.

"No matter what..." he taunts, "I'll always have that on you."

My body hums, and like a fucking tiger, I'm ready to pounce on this fucking kid and tare him apart.

"So now that you've finally got her to all to yourself, and you do to her whatever it is you have planned, remember that I will get her back, and it will be me who puts all the pieces back together."

"You think that hurts me?" I bite out.

"Maybe not right now," he throws back. "But I'll have you know that if you so much as even think about hurting her, I'll become your worst nightmare."