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Chapter 1 : Ouch!
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A/N: Enjoy! ;)
I have always wondered what love really means. Is it the butterfly feeling in your tummy when you see them? Is it the giggle you let escape at the thought of that special someone? Or is it something completely different, something that no one has captured quite right in words? I can safely say that as of six o'clock yesterday, I know what love means.
I think that me telling you my whole love conundrum is very important to the story, whether you agree or not. I did once have a crush on Snape, though. I know, it's totally cringe worthy now, but come on! He has this sweeping black hair and bat-like swishing abilities! That's totally hot! Duh.
I was minding my own business, per my usual cool self, when I was suddenly and rudely interrupted. All I wanted to do was sit quietly on the Quidditch stands and stalk, I mean casually observe, Blaise Zabini.
He is this tall, handsome, tan boy that I have been crushing on for practically forever. He is in the year above mine so he does not really know who I am per say, but I know all about him. He has parents. And a sister. And he plays Quidditch on the Slytherin team and practices every Sunday. I decided that this Sunday I would talk to him. I sat there getting up the nerve, watching him (in a super casual way), when I was interrupted with a ball to the head.
"Ouch!" I whined loudly as the ball bounced off my forehead and onto the wooden slat at my feet. I glared at it for a few heated seconds before the obvious dawned on me. Some stupid person had thrown the ball at my head! Who does that? I'm going to totally curse someone for this!
I looked up and around me to find the nefarious culprit. That's when I saw the cutest guy I had ever laid eyes on, including Blaise. He strutted over to me and made to grab for the ball, but I snatched it up before he could.
"Hey! Give me my ball, Renee!" he protested loudly. How does this god among humans possibly know my name? He was all god-like and I couldn't think. It reminded me of the time Snape asked me a question. I think I drooled then, too.
"How do you know my name?" I asked confusedly. Of course I would blurt out my thoughts and completely forget that I was holding his precious quaffle. I tugged the ball closer to me as my actions caught up with my mind. I was going to strangle this boy for head injuries before I saw him and now I only want to snog him senseless. Aw, love. Or lust. Same thing really.
"We've been in the same house since first year. I think I would know your name after six years, don't you?" he responded, smiling a dazzling white smile. How did I not notice him? He's all dashing and dazzling and gorgeous like that Muggle dude. Taylore Lautner, maybe? Or Edward? The dude from that stupid movie. You know with the delicious abs?
"It's Draco," he replied with a quick roll of his grey eyes. My green eyes narrowed in embarrassment at his correction. But, really, who the hell names their kid Draco?
"Sorry, Draco." I tried to look like I had not just made a huge faux pas. "Why did you throw your ball at my head?" Back to basics here.
"I didn't throw anything. My best mate happened to throw the ball and hit you with it. On the head, I presume?" He laughed a bit at the nasty look I attempted to give him. I'll skin his mate alive!
"Yes, on the head! I could have brain damage now because of your stupid little game with your stupid little friend! Oh my gosh! Do I have a mark on my forehead?" My pale hands immediately obeyed my train of thought and shot up to feel my head. There were indentations in the shape of the quaffle's lines. I thought I might actually die of horror right then and there. My eyes watered a bit at the terrible turn of events.
"I think you know that answer. The look of utter horror and sadness is a bit much though," he informed me with a smirk. How dare him smirk at me? What a jerk!
"Stop being a jerk, Draco! I might just keep your precious little ball for all the pain and suffering you've caused me," I threatened darkly. I even made my best evil, manipulative face for effect. It was also ridiculously sexy and sultry. Gotta get him to bed before the clothes come off. I felt like winking at myself at the thought.
"Oh come on! Stop being a overdramatic wench, Renee! Just give me the ball," he coaxed, reaching for the bright scarlet sphere I was hugging to my chest. He's practically groping me already! Sweet Merlin, my prayers are answered!
"Nope. Not until you apologize for your blatant disregard for my feelings." I made a noise of discontent and he narrowed his eyes. Yeah, you narrow your smexy Slytherin eyes!
"Fine. I'm very sorry we threw a ball at your head.Okay?" I contemplated his apology for a moment and decided I wanted a little more revenge. There's nothing I do better than revenge after all.
"I think you owe me something. For the suffering, you know?" I explained, letting hurt play over my delicate features. Manipulation, my old friend, how have you been?
"What do you want?" he sighed. That was almost too easy. Now, all I need is some chains and honey...
"A date," I bargained. Am I not a pure genius for thinking this up? I get a date with a walking god of a man and I get to make it without seeming forward! I think revenge is very not forward or controlling of me. In fact, it's just me embracing my inner Slytherin genuis!
"A date? You want to go out on a date? With me?" he asked in a shocked voice. Someone's sounding a bit condescending.Am I that horrible? I know I am not perfect. I might be a little plump and my skin and hair have a little problem being under my control, but I am not that bad. I mean, I know my way around the bedroom and, come on, that's what boys want!
"Why the shock?" I asked, trying to keep the hurt and rising anger out of my voice. My question still came out sounding kind of scratchy. "You should be honored."
"I'm just surprised you'd want a date with me. You barely know my name."
"The heart wants what the heart wants." And my heart is totally on board with looking into your eyes for hours. And maybe ripping your robes off...
"Um, okay? We can go out. On a date. When?" That's more like it!
"Now," I replied, confidence hat back on snug. No time like the present.
"Alright. Let me just go tell my friends." He snatched the ball out of my slackened grip and ran over to the group of boys standing around. He talked to them briefly and then sprinted back to me.
"All set?" He nodded, grabbed my hand and started walking out of the pitch. I smiled as he led me to the ice cream shop down the High Street and we ordered a sundae to share. It was the perfect first date that I had ever experienced.
"That was fun," I said shyly when we got to my dorm that evening. "Thank you."
That is what love means. Love means taking a girl out after you thorw a ball at her head (manipulation and revenge and dirty plans aside). Love means kissing her lips softly after ice cream (and making her weak at the knees when you wink). Loves means everything to everyone. Love means making a fool out of yourself. Love simply means that you love and are loved in return. Who knew that a quaffle to the head would get me my answer?
A/N: What did you think? I purposely made this a bit ridiculous... I was hoping for a few laughs!
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