Chapter 8 : Love Potion
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I was so angry I felt like breaking that ferret’s jaw.
My hands were wrapped in shaking fists, and my eyes glowed red.
That cowardly, pathetic, disgusting, inhuman excuse of a man!
As the voices faded and the boys walked back to their common room, I leaned my back to the wall, slowly slipping down onto the floor.
I couldn’t help the tears that were now streaming down my face.
I knew he was a slimy bloke, but I’d hoped for a happier outcome just this one time.
But no, the only reason he was even looking at me was because of some stupid bet.
Realising it’d been Blaise Draco had talked to I stood up. Blaise was supposed to be at St. Mungos. I decided not to meet Draco and instead made my way to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey would have the answers I needed.
I gently knocked on the large, wooden door before I stepped in. “Madame Pomfrey?” I called out, and soon enough her head popped out from behind a white curtain. “Miss Penelope, yes. What do you want?” she asked, continuing checking up on the boy whom was lying on the bed. I walked to stand by the end of it, keeping my eyes only on the healer. “Madame, I want to talk about Mr. Zabini.”
“He hasn’t been ill again, has he?” asked the healer, not once looking up from the boy’s wounds.
“Again? Madame, I received a letter from you weeks ago saying he was being sent to St. Mungos.”
“What?” This time she did look at me, and confusing was drenched into every wrinkle on her face. “That cannot be right.”
“That is what I got.”
“In my letter I wrote that Mr. Zabini had recovered perfectly and was prepared to take on his Prefect duties.” She walked into her office and gave me a copy of the letter, and I realised the handwriting was different as well.
“Thank you,” I said and gave her a quick smile before I hurried out to find somewhere else where Zabini or Malfoy might’ve written. Sneaking into professor Snape’s office, I rummaged through the essays we’d newly handed in and found one signed “Blaise Zabini”.
The handwriting matched perfectly with the handwriting on the letter he had written to me, pretending to be Madame Pomfrey.
I was careful to sneak back out without being noticed. I wasn’t upset any longer, but I sure was mad. Not only had Malfoy played with my feeling, but Zabini had also been avoiding his Prefect duties.
I wanted to punish both of them so badly it hurt.
“So it’s true then?” I asked Hermione as she threw another spell. “Yep. You’ve been hexed,” she confirmed, chewing on her bottom lip. “Can you lift it?”
“Think so,” whispered the Gryffindor as she pulled out another spellbook and searched through a few pages before coming up to a halt. “Here we go.”
As she flickered her wand at me and muttered a couple of words, I felt something lift off me. “There,” she grinned, clearly satisfied with her own work. “Thanks,” I smiled, standing up and feeling better than ever. “You know what kind of spell it was?”
“A shielding spell. It shields a person, making you see someone else and hear another name. Why would someone cast that on you?” She frowned upon this, but all I did was give a careless shrug. “Dunno,” I said before I exited the library, heading towards the Head Common room. I’d already come up with a plan of revenge, and I had to admit; it was bloody brilliant.
I sat quietly on my bed, reading Hogwarts: a History once more. It was my all time favourite book, and I’d lost count of how many times I’d read it. I was so lost in the book, I didn’t even notice someone knocking on my door, nor did I notice when the person decided to be impatient and just walked in. “We need to talk.”
His voice scraped down my spine, leaving fresh wounds. I didn’t move. He didn’t deserve it.
“Kaya, come on. You’ve been avoiding me for days.”
I knew it was all an act, so I still refused to answer him. He deserved to be ignored for once.
The instant he sat down on my bed however, I couldn’t help but look up at him. “What do you want?”
“Talk? That’s what I’ve kept saying, isn’t it?” replied Draco smartly and I glowered at him.
However, I wasn’t as mad as I was pretending to be. It was all part of the plan. On my nightstand was a glass filled with what looked like water, but was really a love potion I’d been brewing. Knowing him, I knew he’d drink from it without me even asking him to.
“Then talk,” I snapped, hiding behind my book again. From the corner of my eyes, I saw how his hand reached for the glass, before they both vanished from my sight.
When I heard his gulp, I couldn’t help but smile.
What I wasn’t prepared for was him removing my book, seeing my smile. “Smiling, are we?” he commented, and I tried to look away. He didn’t know why I was smiling, so he probably thought I was faking being mad.
He carefully took a light hold of my chin, turning my head back so I would look at him. Of course I fell all over again, even though the pain of his betrayal still burning. “You’re not mad or anything, are you?”
I kept my mouth shut. Not because I didn’t want to say anything, but because I couldn’t. If I said no I would lie, which I didn’t want to. I wasn’t about to stoop as low as the ferret. Then again, if I said yes it might make him leave, and I didn’t want that either for some strange reason I didn’t want to think too much about.
I hated him to the core of my bone for what he’d done, and what he was doing to me, yet when he pulled me closer I didn’t stop him. I liked to that it was because I knew it would only be a kiss as the love potion would soon take its affect. Don’t believe me though. I have a bad habit of lying to myself.
The instant his lips covered mine, I lost complete and utter control. I couldn’t help what I was doing, or what I was feeling. There was no denying it any longer: I had fallen for him all too hard, all too fast.
I pulled him closer, pushing my own body against his. I could feel his muscles through his shirt, clouding my judgement even further.
I felt his hand on my lower back, slowly laying me down on the bed, placing his own body on top of mine.
Gently he pressed his thigh between my legs, drawing an all too revealing moan from me.
I felt his hand move up my stomach underneath my shirt, and even though with my clouded mind I knew where he was going with this – again. Though this time I also knew about his bet with Zabini. He needed to sleep with me in order to win it. No way that was happening.
The only reason I wasn’t pushing him away was because, because… Because I knew he soon would. Because of the love potion. Yeah, that was it. That was the reason. Nothing else. Absolutely nothing.
Suddenly I felt him hesitate slightly, and I felt slightly disappointed. At that moment I don’t think I would’ve mind helping him win his bet against Zabini.
He removed his hand from underneath my shirt and broke the kiss, looking confused.
“What are you doing?” I asked, playing along and pretending not to know anything.
“I, erm,” stuttered Draco, clearly trying to come up with some sort of excuse.
“I need to go,” he blurted before he hurried out of the bed and literally ran out the door.
Sitting up, my face developed a smug expression. I knew the risk I was taking – Draco could easily make me pay when he found out. Although, after all the embarrassment he was bound to go through, I would gladly take anything he’d throw at me. It was all going to be worth it.
I made my way down towards the Great Hall to gather all the Prefects.
Now that I was no longer under any sort of spell, I saw Zabini in class, in the Great Hall, though whenever I would see him or pass him, I would pretend not to see him.
I’d asked Ron to go and get Zabini while I gave the Prefects their new schedule. I made sure Zabini and Malfoy stayed together as a pair, but got more work than the others. I wanted to cause as much hell for them both as possible.
I gave all the new Prefects their new schedule, making sure to apologise for the mess. No one really seemed bothered, though. They got less patrol-time, why would they?
As Ron came, Zabini walked beside him. He didn’t seem very pleased.
“Zabini, glad you could join us,” I snickered, very pleased with myself. “Here’s your schedule,” I said as I handed him a sheet of paper. “You’re patrolling with Malfoy, from now and through the night. Your shift ends at 7AM.”
“WHAT!” cried the Slytherin, pinning me up with his glare. “You can’t be serious! That is insanely unfair!”
“Don’t worry, Blaisey. We’ll have the loveliest time,” grinned Draco as he laid an arm around Zabini’s shoulder. Zabini shot him the deadliest, most confused glare I’d ever seen.
The other students started to make their way back to their common rooms, Ron and I retreating to our own.
“Think Malfoy’s taken a bludger too many to the head,” said Ron, grinning to himself. “Maybe,” I smiled, knowing this was going to be a lot of fun.
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