Draco was flying on his broomstick, his newly acquired Firebolt Beta, the latest version of the state-of-the-art Firebolt series. He was quite proud of it, seeing that he was again one up on Potter. He turned and swerved with great agility and speed, almost a blur to everyone else. He whizzed past the goal hoops, and then turned straight up, then leveled out, flying dizzyingly high above everyone else.
As the cold October wind whipped his face and played havoc with his hair, he looked down, observing what everyone else was doing. His team mates looked like toys, he was so high up, and the people on the ground mere pinpricks. This was where he had always been the happiest, in the air. But today was different; he was not happy. For one thing, their new captain, Peter Vaisey, kept halting the play every 5 minutes to remind everyone that he was the captain. This meant that none of the players were in any sort of rhythm, and Draco had to stop chasing the snitch after spotting it six times already. Vaisey was a good chaser, but today he seemed wound up, and Draco rather thought that he was suffering some sort of complex because he knew that Draco wielded more influence on the team inspite of Vaisey being the captain. Draco suddenly grinned to himself, and silently mocked Vaisey’s ill luck in being a mere pawn, but then sobered up as he realized that this situation spelled disaster for their team’s prospects this year. Already they were having the worst practice session he had ever been a part of in Hogwarts. And he had sorely wanted to win the quidditch cup this year…it was his last chance.
He saw the play being halted yet again, but decided not to join his teammates. They would again be hearing the same thing anyway; that was the reason he had given up on trying to spot the snitch altogether, and was simply enjoying flying. Or was trying to, anyway. But every time he thought he was enjoying himself, a pair of hazel eyes popped inside his head. He had never realized her eyes were so huge…or maybe they looked so big because he had been looking at them from a distance of three inches. He still couldn’t believe what had happened. Sia Brush-off Raisingh had lost her head, and all because he had whispered in her ears. And not even technically in her ears. She had been totally, absolutely, under his spell at that time…he could’ve had her then and there, and ended his misery of suffering n number of sleepless nights, wanting her beside him.
And yet, Draco thought furiously as he swerved yet again, he hadn’t even touched her. Why? He wasn’t sure why he had done it, why he had backed off from her when he could hear very clearly each and every cell of her body screaming for him. Maybe because it hadn’t felt right…he had felt devious, seducing her into revealing something she hadn’t wanted to. But even that was odd; he had always been devious, and it had never bothered him. Then why? Maybe because he wanted to soothe his ego that had been bruised that night in the pub. He wanted her, but he wanted her to come to him when she was fully in her senses, knowing full well what she was doing. He wanted to hear her scream out his name, but he wanted it when she wouldn’t be able to accuse him of seducing her. In short, he wanted Sia Raisingh to fall for him, and come to him because of herself, not because of him. Then he would take her, and then walk all over her stupid infatuation and infuriating pride, crushing her. Then it would feel right.
Satisfied with his reasoning at last, Draco turned towards his teammates, his mood greatly improved. He suddenly laughed aloud when he thought about Raisingh’s reaction when she would come to her senses and realize what she had blurted out. He had been so surprised when she had actually told him the truth that he had just stared at her for sometime, unable to do anything else. He didn’t know what to do with that information yet, so had decided to keep it to himself. But he looked forward to seeing Raisingh again, and the look of horror and anger on her face. He laughed again as he reached the mid air conference of his team.
“Took you long enough to join us, Draco. May I remind you that I am the captain of this team, and you are just another player, not the head boy! So in future, keep your attitude for the mudblood.” Vaisey ticked him off the moment he braked beside him.
Draco’s laughter died suddenly, and his eyes went glacial. The rest of the team shifted uncomfortably on their brooms, sure that nothing good was going to come out of Draco’s anger. Everyone was pissed off with Vaisey anyway, he was being such a pathetic captain. Crabbe and Goyle bared their teeth threateningly at Vaisey for daring to tell off Malfoy. Vaisey, however, stood his ground.
Draco looked coldly at Vaisey, and addressed him in tones cold enough to freeze the Sahara may times over. “I know that you are the captain, Vaisey, and so does the rest of the team, having been reminded of this for what should be the twentieth time now. If anyone needs to remember it, its you. So stop being an idiot, and start being the captain.”
The words seemed to hit Vaisey physically, as he reeled in shock, and was about to fly away when Draco caught his broom handle with one hand. “We need to talk, you and I. Now.” He motioned to the rest of the team with his eyes, and they all flew back to their respective positions. What Draco wanted, Draco got…that was the Slytherin motto.
“Look Vaisey,” Draco began, trying to infuse some warmth into his words, but they remained cold. “I know its hard on you, but you have to understand one thing. We might be as different as night and day, and differ in our views diametrically, but at the end of the day, we, as in our whole team, want just one thing- the quidditch cup. And I personally want it so much that it actually hurts when I see a fairly good team make a mockery of practice, as we have done today. We can be unbeatable, I know its in us, we just need to focus on our team and our flying. And I am looking forward to see you do just that.”
Vaisey remained quiet for so long Draco thought he wasn’t going to say anything at all. He was just about to fly away when Vaisey broke the silence. “This is what the problem is, Draco. You just put things across so well, I should’ve been able to do that, but I can’t. I don’t even know why I got the badge; it should’ve gone to you. The whole team looks up to you, not to me. And you’re also the head boy…its just very difficult to get past all this.” His voice was bitter.
Draco looked at him intently, knowing his team’s chances this year depended on the mental fitness of this boy, even if all that he was saying was essentially correct. He himself didn’t know why Snape had chosen Vaisey over him. Not that it mattered now.
“Peter,” Draco began again, and this time his voice had shed some of its coldness. Vaisey, who had been staring disconsolately at the goal hoops in the distance, looked at him in surprise. Draco had never addressed him using his first name before…that was a privilege reserved for a select few like Zabini, Nott and Parkinson, people he considered as his lesser equals. Nobody, of course, was considered his equal. “Don’t suppose for even a single moment that I will ever mock your authority over the team, or do something that is not in the interest of the team. But at the same time, I want to see you trying your hardest to win that cup; if Potter gets his hands on it this year too, I will crucio you into oblivion, believe me. As for why the badge went to you, you are the best chaser on our team, and obviously you would’ve made a pathetic head boy. So…” Draco trailed off, smirking slightly at the boy. Vaisey grinned back, his confidence somewhat restored.
“Alright team, lets get going…we are going to slaughter the Gryffindors.” Vaisey shouted, waving his one arm above him rather comically. Draco refrained from rolling his eyes with some difficulty; their first match was against Hufflepuff, they were going to have to do some hard work to slaughter Gryffindors, and Vaisey needed to work on his war cry.
The team started looking a bit better after that, but by then they had run out of time. Cursing under his breath at Vaisey for ruining perfect conditions with his ravings, Draco landed beside his team. His mood improved slightly on seeing Blaise waiting for him. As he made his way over to him, however, he found his way blocked by three Gryffindors, one of whom looked like she had swallowed a bottle of pepper-up potion, and was waiting to spit it out. Draco grinned inwardly…here it comes.
Sia stood glaring at Draco, so angry she didn’t know where to begin. One thought kept fighting with another in her mind, wanting to be addressed first. And as she looked at him, the image of his face mere inches away from hers burst in front of her eyes, making her blush. Draco noticed her high color, and folded his arms over his chest, cocking his head to one side, waiting for her to begin.
Hermione looked from Sia to Draco, wondering what was up. Something had happened, big enough to rattle Sia, and she was convinced it was nearly entirely Draco's fault. He could be a real devil when he chose to be, eventhough he had been nothing short of nice to her. He hadn’t even called her a mudblood since that oblique reference on the train. But he lost no opportunity to make fun of her; from her love for books to her passion for SPEW, everything was made fun of in great detail. But she instinctively knew that whatever had happened between Sia and him was certainly no laughing matter.
Before anyone could say anything however, Zabini had ambled over to stand beside Draco, looking at the three girls curiously from under his heavy-lidded eyes. He was a stark contrast to Draco…dark to Draco’s pale skin, raven hair to his platinum blond locks, dark eyes to his gray ones, but just as tall, and just as desirable.
“Well well, what do we have here? Looks like Potter has sent his blood traitor girlfriend to spy on the Slytherin team. And she has brought the henchwoman for protection, and the mudblood for…er,…what exactly have you brought the mudblood for?” Zabini drawled out.
Hermione colored slightly…it had been quite sometime since she had heard the term for herself.
“Eat dung, Zabini!” Ginny snarled at him.
“After you.” He bowed low insultingly.
Sia’s attention was diverted towards this new pestilence; how she hated the term. Her father was a muggle, and she couldn’t stand hearing anyone insulting muggles or muggleborns. She hated her father too, but that was beside the point.
Sia sent a searing look at Zabini, her eyes narrowing to mere slits. “Watch it, sexy eyes; I don’t really like doing bad things to good looking boys, so don’t force me to.”
Zabini laughed derisively. “Oh yeah, bad things! What bad things do you do, Raisingh? After seeing you display your…er…talents at Potions, I just cant wait to find out how bad you can get!” He leered at her.
Sia raised her eyebrows at him in cruel amusement. “You have no idea how bad I can get, pretty boy, so stay away.”
Draco, who had been watching this exchange patiently till now, decided it was time to step in. Blaise really had no idea what Sia could do to him, and he didn’t want to see him next packed inside a small box. He laid a restraining hand on the other boy’s arm, his touch gentle but meaning firm. It was time to get down to business.
“What do you want Raisingh?” he asked quietly.
Sia looked at him with a steely glint in her eyes, all traces of amusement gone. “I want you to go around the school wearing a plaque saying that you belong to a family of deatheaters, so that innocent people do not accidentally contaminate themselves by your nearness. Can you do that?”
Draco had been expecting anything but that. All color drained from his face, and his countenance hardened visibly. Even Hermione was taken aback at what she considered to be a blow below the belt. Lucius Malfoy was hardly Draco’s fault; you cant choose your father. Ginny, on the other hand, was delighted. She still remembered how the senior Malfoy had spoken to her father in Flourish and Blotts five years ago.
“Say whatever you want to me, Raisingh, but don’t you dare have a go at my family.” He spoke through clenched teeth.
“Its all about loving your family, is it! Then how about a plaque that reads ‘I want to be a deatheater’?”
“You know nothing about my wants and wishes, Raisingh, so stop speculating. Why don’t you stop beating around the bush and get to the point? Or are you afraid that the whole point will be lost if you do get to the point?” Draco mocked her.
“You are the most devious, evil, twisted, wicked…”
“Thank you for the compliments. But frankly Raisingh, I don’t think I am evil, at least not yet; but wicked, oh yes.” Draco took a deep bow, his eyes full of merriment.
Sia seethed inwardly. He knew she couldn’t speak openly, the bastard. What was the point in coming here, confronting him, and ending up looking even more of a fool! And that too in front of several Slytherins. But then, she had been so angry she hadn’t been thinking straight. So what to do now….yes, Obliviate his memory.
Sia shot him a look of triumphant hatred, and plunged her hand in the waistband of her jeans to pull out her wand. The only thing was, it wasn’t there. Sia froze with shock. Where was her wand?
Draco looked at her suddenly still form, his eyes traveling to where her hand was frozen and realized what was wrong. He raised his eyebrows at her derisively, a devilish smile spreading across his face. It was when Sia saw his smile that she realized…she had left her wand in the Room of Requirement!
She refrained from hitting herself over the head with great difficulty. She was embarrassed when she remembered just why she had forgotten her wand in the first place, and angry with herself for landing herself in this soup. Now how in the name of Wendelin the Weird was she going to get herself out of this with dignity intact? She couldn’t fight verbally, she couldn’t break his bones, and she couldn’t do magic! She wanted to bawl at the top of her lungs suddenly, and pretend madness.
Draco was enjoying seeing Sia squirm uncomfortably, knowing exactly what was going through her mind, drinking in her helplessness. Lets see you get out of this, Raisingh, his eyes twinkled at her. This is really not her day, poor girl!
“Cat got your tongue, Raisingh? Run out of compliments for me already? You can add clever, cunning, ingenious, resourceful, popular, handsome, gorgeous, and …sinfully attractive to the list. I will accept them all, with pleasure.” Draco smiled impishly at her, stressing the last adjective to himself in devilish amusement.
Sia swallowed the gibe about his being sinfully attractive with poor grace. “You are a bastard…” she started grounding out, but was cut off by him again.
“Actually, no. I was born three years after my parents got married. So this one is way off the mark. But full points for trying.” Draco told her blithely.
Sia wanted to slap that annoying smirk off his face, and claw at him till all traces of good looks disappeared. She knew she had lost control of the situation a long time back…probably as soon as she had stepped in front of him. But she couldn’t back out now…she could stand to lose everything, but not her face. And certainly not in front of this boy to whom she had already shown one weakness. One too many.
“Oh, and you can also add my being a good listener to the list of compliments. If you have a secret to share, Raisingh, I am your man.” He smiled at her, showing nearly all of his dazzling teeth.
Sia wanted to pull her hair out of her head in frustrated anger that was not getting an outlet. How could she have allowed things to come to such a pass, she had no idea. Suddenly, out of the blue, her mother’s disapproving voice rang in her ears, “ You are very impulsive, Sia, honey…too impulsive for you own good. You need to think first, and act afterwards. Good girls…” But at that, Sia shut her eyes tightly to block out the vivid image of her mother sitting straight in her favorite chair, folding clothes meant for some orphanage, while lecturing Sia on good manners. But the memory left a bitter taste in her mouth, particularly since she now realized that listening to her mother once in a while might not have been such a bad idea. It would certainly have saved her arse from being fried, as of now.
Ginny was watching the exchange a bit puzzled at Sia’s restraint and Draco’s growing amusement. She had no idea what had happened, but whatever it was, Malfoy had Sia in a corner. She wasn’t particularly fond of Sia, but she didn’t dislike her either; at least, she had no desire to see her humiliated at Malfoy’s hands. Sia was nice in her own way…even if that way was a bit strange. She had certainly helped Hermione out in a sticky situation, and was trying her best to help her in what they now referred to as the “Ron-Won Project”. And she could be very funny when she chose to be. And, of course, she had been giving hell to all Slytherins, including Snape, for quite sometime now. All in all, a lot of points were stacked in her favor. Then why wasn’t she so fond of Sia so as to jinx Malfoy with her Bat-Bogey Hex there and then? Why? Was it just because she was relatively new, or was it because Harry seemed to like her so much?
Yes…it was definitely that. Harry seemed to like bizarre things about Sia, things he wouldn’t have liked in any other girl, herself included. If she some day decided to run around in skirts even twice the length of Sia’s, Harry would throw his robes over her, and then eat her head off. If news got to him that she had been flirting with a teacher, even if it was Snape, and even if the flirting was a way to rile him, he would probably show her the shortest and fastest way down from the Astronomy tower. If she ever even winked at Malfoy, let alone blow a kiss, even if it was to mock him, he would probably make her hex herself as atonement for her sins. If she started dueling verbally with Slytherins every chance she got, he would probably pack her off to Madam Pomfrey to get her head examined. He wouldn’t even tolerate all this from Hermione; he would rather feed her to a blast-ended skrewt. And last year, before they had got together, Harry had refused Romilda Vane because, among other things, he found her too forward to his liking. But in Sia, all this was not only perfectly tolerable, but infinitely funny. He had warmed up to Sia so rapidly Ginny was now finding it positively alarming, never mind Sia’s protestations that she wasn’t interested in Harry. If Harry found her interesting, would she refuse the Chosen One? Ginny thought not. She had found Harry after pining for him for more than five years…she wasn’t about to let this girl, or any other girl for that matter, steal him from her. And this girl definitely looked like a threat. She wasn’t strictly good looking, but she was…eye catching. And she was attractive and smart enough to keep the male eyes glued to her once she had caught them. And she had the attitude that boys seem to like very much. Already she had displaced Miranda Goldberg of Hufflepuff as the most popular girl in Hogwarts, and Miranda was really good looking, with golden hair and blue eyes and skin that was rose and silk. Okay, so she wasn’t too bright, but boys had salivated after her before Sia had come along. Even Malfoy had hooked up with her thrice before turning his back on her finally. All in all, Ginny summed up, while she didn’t dislike Sia, she didn’t like her too much either. So for the time being, she decided to let her squirm.
Hermione was liking the situation less every second. Clearly it was Sia’s day off, and Malfoy seemed to be making the most of it. This was more like the Malfoy she had known for the past six years…his almost gentlemanly behavior in the Head’s dorm was starting to scare her a bit. But whatever it was, she wanted Sia to know that she was with her friends. Gryffindors stood together, and she decided the time had come for her to make her presence known, as Sia seemed to have forgotten them. If Malfoy was going to laugh, he would have to contend with three Gryffindors, not one. And anyway, she was frustrated with him herself for refusing to acknowledge her efforts that, unknown to him, were directed at him. With that in mind, she stepped forward, and laid a hand on Sia’s arm.
Sia was jolted by the touch, so intent was she on her impending doom and lack of any noticeable means to avoid it. She looked at Hermione in shock, and then amazement, as though wondering what she was doing there.
“HG…what are you doing here?” she blurted out, and then as it all came back to her, could’ve bitten her tongue.
Hermione raised her eyebrows slightly at that, but turned to face the Slytherin instead. Malfoy looked from one to the other, enjoying himself thoroughly. He was confident that given the recent display of his virtuous side to Granger, she wouldn’t say anything against him. So her next sentence came as something of a shock to him.
“You don’t need to enumerate your multiple talents, Malfoy. Having known you for the last six years, we know what a perfect ferret you can be. Your real colours must have come as a shock to Sia, I imagine, because she is new. But I am glad that now she is able to see you in proper light.” Her voice was dismissive and cold as she addressed Malfoy, and then she turned to Sia and said warmly, “Lets go, Sia. Calling him names won’t help, because theres no name bad enough to describe him.”
To say that Malfoy was angry would have been an understatement. More than anything that Sia had said, Hermione’s curt dismissal got to him. Raisingh had a reason to be pissed off, but what was Granger’s excuse? Stupid Gryffindor, his gentlemanly ways were wasted on her. It would’ve served her right had he taken that skirt off her the day it was shortened. Now she would be dealing with a broken heart and a lost virginity, among other things, rather than talking him down. And that thing about ferret still hurt.
“Well well, Raisingh,” he addressed Sia in tones that seemed to carry on the polar winds, his cold gaze fixed on Hermione. “I never thought you would need the services of a mudblood to fight your battles. But seems I was wrong.” He sneered at Hermione.
Hermione was taken aback. After all the civility he had shown her in the Head’s dorm, she had thought he had gotten over his blood fixation. Evidently she was wrong…he was still the same Malfoy, who was just acting differently because of some twisted reasoning of his. Maybe he was up to something. She should’ve felt relieved at finding her enemy on familiar grounds once again, but it hurt. She drew in a sharp breath involuntarily.
Malfoy heard it, and saw her hurt expression. For a moment something close to guilt stirred within him, but cruel satisfaction took its place almost instantly.
Sia heard it, and immediately saw red. Subconsciously, she also saw an excuse to nail the sly snake with. She stepped up to Malfoy and spoke in menacing tones, staring him down with eyes that radiated the heat of sun. “Bite your tongue, Malfoy, for using that term. And if I ever hear you using it again, I will do it for you.”
Malfoy was intimidated by her anger for a second, but he couldn’t back out…his entire team, not to mention Blaise, was watching. He lowered his face so that it was level with hers, feeling the heat of her scorching gaze on his skin, or was it his own blood pumping in his face at the realization that he was walking in a mine field. Their faces mere inches apart, he blew air softly, with his lips only slightly apart, so that only Sia could know what he was doing. She felt the breeze, and realized what he was doing…he was playing with her senses again, trying to wrong-foot her once again. She felt anger pounding in her temples at his nerve, determined not to be made a fool of this time. It was tough, for his proximity had started doing funny things to her.
Malfoy saw her anger at its flashing point, and decided to push her over the edge recklessly, just to satisfy his curiosity. Staring into her eyes directly, he spoke quite clearly, “Mudblood!” And then smiled triumphantly. He saw Sia’s eyes widen in shock, and then narrow in anger, and that was the last he saw.
Sia was shocked at his nerve, and as she heard him, anger coursed through her brain so fast she could no longer think. Hurt pride, bruised ego, impossible situation, helplessness, and the possibility of further humiliation flooded into her brain with her anger, virtually jamming all reason and coherence. That, and his heady proximity, and her involuntary attraction to him. Without realizing what she was doing, Sia brought up her one hand, curling it at his nape, and with the other caught hold of his quidditch robes, and pulled him towards her. Before he realized what was happening, her mouth was on his.
It seemed to Sia as though time stood still, as though the world as she knew it had ceased to exist. All that was there was him, and her. His mouth was open because of the shock at her actions, and her tongue slid inside his mouth easily, discovering what she had longed to discover ever since she had laid her eyes on him. He smelled irresistibly nice, his cologne woody this time, mingled with his own scent to make a heady combination. And he was a damn good kisser, once he was able to get over the initial shock. His tongue danced with hers, touching in ways that sent a rush of heat down her legs. There was a roaring sound in her ears, as though she was standing near a wild surf, or maybe she was in the surf, being tossed around by huge waves of passion and pleasure that this mouth was stirring. This mouth. Malfoy’s mouth. Shit.
It was as though a switch had suddenly been turned on inside her head, and she saw herself clearly, standing very close to Malfoy, her one hand playing with the soft hair at his nape, the other holding on to his robes for dear life. What the heck was she doing, she asked herself dumbly, and the answer came back to her in the nauseating singsong voice that she reserved for Snape: you are kissing Draco Malfoy, and in front of an audience. Of all the ways she could have chosen to make a fool of herself, this had to take the cake as being the most embarrassing one. Her tongue was still inside his mouth, she realized with rising panic, and withdrew it. But by then, Malfoy had moved into the spirit of things, and his tongue followed hers into her mouth, sending shivers down her spine. His hands, which were holding her upper arms loosely, moved up to her shoulders, his fingers curving over them, reaching out to her nape. Sia felt another wave of heat wash over her, and realized dully that if she didn’t stop this now, her legs would give way completely. She could almost feel her flesh melting under the firm grasp of his hands. Even as she kissed him back, a part of her brain seemed to be kicking back into gear. And that part told her that her image, in all its ruined glory, was waiting for her just after this kiss. I have to do something, she thought dazedly, or I will never be able to show my face in this school again.
Draco was shocked. He had been expecting a slap, perhaps, but not this. He had a vague plan about leaving her stuttering like an idiot while he played havoc with her senses once again, but she had stymied him completely. He hadn’t seen this kiss coming, but now that it was happening, he didn’t mind it one bit. A part of him was smirking somewhere that it was Raisingh who had made the first move…he was just returning the favor, so to speak. But as the kiss deepened, his thoughts melted into passion that had been quietly smoldering within him ever since he had seen her that night in the pub. Now he was sorry he had let that wonderful opportunity pass in the Room of Requirement earlier…he could have satisfied every fantasy of his, and the hell with quidditch and everything else. Wait a minute, quidditch? What the hell was he doing, losing his head kissing a Gryffindor, in front of his whole damn team! And Blaise too. But then, it was she who was kissing him, not him. No, she had initiated the kiss, but now it was him kissing her almost as if his life depended on it, and she was kissing him back so very sweetly. Seductress, that’s what she was. But did it matter, so long as he didn’t appear too shaken in front of his house mates! He could play it all cool and cocky and get away with it, leaving her to take the consequences. After all, it was she who had started it.
But just as the thought occurred to him, he felt a sharp pain pierce his tongue, and he cried out unable to help himself. He let go of her immediately, clapping his hands to his mouth where his tongue continued to throb. As he felt something wet on his hands, he looked at them to find blood, his own red, shining blood, on them. Horrified, he looked up at Sia who was looking at him with an enigmatic expression on her face. As his teammates hurried forward to him, he shrugged them off and faced Sia, his heart pumping anger throughout his body. The bloody bitch had bitten his tongue, for Merlin’s sake!
Sia stood looking at him, still unable to think what she had done. But it was the only thing she could have done to save face, and it looked good. Now for the rest of the face-saving ceremony. She stepped up to Malfoy once again, who almost automatically stepped back. She smirked slightly, and extended her right hand to pry away his hand from his mouth, and flicked the index finger of her left against his lips, drawing it away to show him she had a drop of his blood on it. As everyone around her stared at her in bafflement, she licked his blood with slow deliberation, never breaking eye contact with him. Draco’s eyes narrowed to mere slits. Then she stepped back to her friends, and caught hold of Hermione's hand. Hermione got an inkling of her course of action a split second before Sia actually did it, but she was able to bite back her cry of pain as Sia bit into her finger, drawing blood. Sia licked it thoughtfully, and then looked straight back at Malfoy.
“Amazing!” Sia drawled out at Malfoy, who now looked as though he had just been force-fed Skele-Gro potion. “With all this talk of pure bloods and mudbloods, I decided to find out just how different your blood was from hers. And wonder of wonders, it tastes just the same. And it even looks the same. Now what could be the reason behind it, o great Pureblood? Maybe its just that HG’s blood isn’t that muddy, or your blood isn’t that pure. Are you quite sure none of your great ancestors had a brief fling with a muggle, and decided to cover up his or her moment of shame with a big fat lie? Or maybe, blood isn’t that big a deal as its made out to be. Take your pick…. loser.” And with that, Sia turned smartly on her heels and left with a delighted Ginny and a smiling Hermione.
Draco remained standing there, still as a statue. For a long time, the blood dripping from his mouth and his hair and robes being whipped about by wind were the only signs of movement from him. Blaise actually got worried, thinking that maybe Draco was under some kind of shock. The Slytherin team shuffled their feet behind him restlessly, unsure of what to do or say. Some of them were actually inclined to laugh, but were smart enough not to. After a while, they all went away towards the dressing rooms, leaving Draco alone with Blaise.
“Er…shall I fix your…er…bleeding organ?” Zabini asked a bit hesitantly, trying to swallow his laughter. The cold look Draco gave him assured him he had failed miserably, just as he had meant to.
“C’mon, Draco, stop sulking. Be a good boy and let me help you. Here,” he took out his wand and pointed it at Draco, who shrugged him off and took out his own wand instead. Draco conjured a mirror, and using it mopped himself up carefully, and then pointed his wand at his tongue which instantly healed. He threw the mirror at Zabini and started stomping off the pitch, his broomstick on his shoulder.
Zabini fell into step beside him. “All things considered, that could have gone better.” Riling Draco was his favorite sport, as Draco gave him very few opportunities to do so. “Raisingh’s quite a character. I never saw that one coming.” Draco ignored him and continued to walk without looking at him. “And neither did you,” he added slyly. Draco frowned. “So, how was it? The kiss, I mean. Er, before it got a bit sadistic.” Zabini was going to extract as much enjoyment as he could from this episode.
Draco stopped walking, and turned around to look at his amused friend. “If you want to find out, why don’t you ask her to kiss you? I’m sure she’ll oblige you…sexy eyes.” He couldn’t stop himself, and then could’ve kicked himself for the way it sounded. Sure enough, Blaise picked it up instantly.
“My, my…prickly, aren’t we? And a bit jealous too. But Draco baby, it was you she kissed, not me, inspite of my sexy eyes. But boy, do I wish she had! When she bit you, it looked so infinitely sensual…just blew me away. Imagine if she had really done that to me!” Blaise actually sounded wistful and Draco peered at him thoughtfully.
“You seem to have picked up some unusual tastes over summer. Or you may have gone mad, finally. However, neither of the possibilities surprises me.” Draco spoke disdainfully.
“Yeah…its Raisingh who surprised you, right?” Blaise smirked at him, drawing his scowl. “She is something else, alright. I mean, she managed to stump you at your own game. Bet you anything you wouldn’t be able to shag her before, say, your birthday. What do you say?” He shot Draco a challenging look. Draco merely raised his eyebrows.
“That’s decided then, you have gone mad.” Draco told him, and turned away.
“Scared, head boy?” Zabini taunted him. Draco faced him again, his look scornful.
“Not scared, just slightly surprised at your colossal stupidity. Do you really think I am going to risk my personal well being for a mere wager? You saw that girl; she behaves like she’s related to the vampires. Maybe she really is. But I am not interested in finding out. You’ve got unusual tastes, you are welcome to her. My tastes are perfectly normal, thank you very much.” Draco told him loftily and turned away again.
“Normal tastes, eh?” Zabini snickered at him. “Don’t get me started on that, Drakiedarling. I happen to know a few things about your tastes that would surprise, not to mention embarrass, you.”
Draco merely smiled. “Been having a lot of discussions with Pansy, I see. You forget that I have talked with her a lot as well. And sometimes you came up in our…conversations. Now that I think about it, you have a lot more to be embarrassed about. Shall we have a bet on that, what say?” Draco smiled slyly at Zabini, who flushed.
“I didn’t mean it that way, you know…” Zabini began, trailing away sheepishly. Draco smirked at him, and started walking again, Zabini matching his stride.
“You should have learnt by now not to challenge me to anything, Blaise. I have always won, and always will.”
“We’ll have to see about that. Maybe I just haven’t thought of a challenge yet that you are bound to lose! What about shagging the mudblood? She’s turning out to be quite a looker now.”
Draco made a disgusted face. “Please, Blaise…me and Granger? I can never stoop so low, and you know it.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I had never thought she could look anything except loathsome, but she has started to look quite fetching now…I had thought you had something to do with it.” Zabini shot him a quizzical look.
Draco laughed. “She is doing all that just to catch Weasley’s eye, although why she is making so much of an effort for that oaf I don’t know. Neither is he worth it, nor is he able to notice it.” Draco finished disdainfully.
“Hmmm…you are right about that. Weasley’s all wrong for her, and its wrong on her part to go for Weasley when studs like us are around, what say?” Zabini smirked at Draco.
“Like you, not like me. I’m not interested in her, thank you very much.” Draco corrected him. He had other plans regarding her, after all, but he was not about to let Blaise know that.
“Not interested in Raisingh, not interested in Granger….what’s wrong with you Draco? I think you are losing your touch. By the way, whats the score for this year?” Zabini shook his head and eyed Draco questioningly.
“I’ve decided to go for quality rather than quantity this year.” Draco replied condescendingly.
“Actually, no, it does not.” Draco replied, and was glad it was the truth, even if it was only Pansy.
“If you are counting Pansy, then forget it. And anyway, she doesn’t come under the heading of ‘quality’, does she?” Zabini was smart, Draco had to hand it to him.
“Actually, she does. She’s quite good, as a matter of fact.”
“Hmm…it can only be lots of practice. Are you going to get serious about her?” Zabini asked a bit cautiously.
“I don’t think so.” Draco sighed.
“Thank Merlin. I was beginning to think you had totally lost it. But are you quite sure you are not going to accept the Raisingh challenge?”
Draco stopped and turned to face Zabini fully now. “No, Blaise, I am not going to accept the Raisingh challenge. Make what you will of it. That girl is crazy, totally unpredictable. Not to mention a Gryffindor. What if she bit my penis during a blowjob? I can’t risk that.” He would have walked away if Zabini hadn’t collapsed in fits of laughter.
“Theres…that…I…suppose!” Zabini managed to gasp between his uncontrollable mirth. Then he managed to get a grip on himself and said a bit more composedly, “But if she does do that, Draco my boy, then she would be doing a favor to many girls in Hogwarts. You have broken quite a few hearts, mate.”
“So have you, my friend, but I am not the one who’s wishing Raisingh upon you. You really are a bad friend, Blaise.” Draco admonished him playfully.
“Thank you, my friend. I always strive to do my best…to be the worst,” Zabini grinned at Draco. Then he suddenly grew serious, and asked, “Are you quite sure you have no interest in Granger?”
“I am sure.” Draco smiled inwardly at what he now felt sure was to come.
“Good. Then, I think I will make a move on her. I never knew she had great legs. Once I am done with her, Weasley can have the seconds, if she would want to have him after me, that is.” Zabini smirked confidently.
“All the best, mate. And tell me how it was.” Draco shook his hand rather solemnly, surprising him.
“Uh…I will. Thanks. See you later.” And then he walked away towards the school.
Draco stood there watching him for some time, and then added to the air around him, “Watch out for her slap, mate. She hits really hard.” And then he smiled maliciously to himself, adding, “Evil, no. But wicked, definitely...yes.”
And then he laughed and headed towards the changing rooms, imagining a red faced Blaise with Hermione’s hand imprinted on his cheek, momentarily forgetting his humiliation.
A/N: So here it is. The next chapter will only be out after the BOOK, so it may be a while. after all, i need to read the BOOK too. :)but tell me what you think of this one...or my review box will die of hunger. sob sob.
Write a Review The First Seven Years: Evil No, Wicked Yes