Inescapable

chapter 2

No. That did not just happen. It didn't.

Draco ran a shaky hand through his short hair, gripping a fistful of it and pulling in sheer frustration. He felt like screaming. He felt like punching something.

How had this happened?

Draco thought back to what had just occurred between him and the mudblood, and instantly retched. He had to stop and lean against the banister on the staircase between the fourth and third floors, whilst he attempted to get his gag reflex under control.

He must have lost his goddamn mind.

Granger... of all the fucking people. It was truly sickening. Flashes of imagines and sounds ran rampant in his mind.

Her mouth. Her subtle curves. Her full breasts. The feel of her tight pussy clamping around his cock. Her enticing moans, urging him on.

She had been a virgin. A fucking virgin. Yes, he'd mocked her about it on numerous occasions in the past, but he hadn't really thought that she was. Jesus, she was attached at the hip to dumb and dumber. He was sure that one - or both - of them had stuck it to her at least once. Wow, they really were a pathetic bunch of pricks.

Draco groaned, rubbing a hand over his bare stomach. He flinched, glancing down. In his haste to get away from her he hadn't even bothered to button his shirt. Jesus, he looked a mess. He reached for his wand, intending to make himself look a bit more presentable, but shit. It wasn't there. It was still in the classroom. He looked back in the direction he had just come from, and sighed. There was no point in going back, surely Granger had taken it, she would likely lord it over him now and not give it back. That's what he would do. He quickly fastened his shirt, and pulled his jumper over his head, running his hands down the front to smooth away any wrinkles. It wouldn't do to run into someone looking like he'd been dragged behind the Hogwarts Express for a good few miles.

He continued down the staircase, taking his time, listening out for any indication that Filch or Mrs Norris were near.

He tried not to dwell on Granger and the fact that he had put himself in an even more dire position than he had been at the beginning of the night - and that was certainly saying something. He almost wished he could go back in time. He would gladly accept his responsibilities without so much as a slight frown or minor thought of injustice. God, if only... but no, instead of helping, the universe had decided to fuck him over more thoroughly than before, likely as payback for his self-pity over the last few months.

Christ. He'd shagged Granger.

Draco let that thought sink in for a minute.

It wasn't that the experience had been bad. No. Quite the opposite, actually. It was just that it was bloody Granger. If anyone found out... shit, the thought was repugnant. Not just for the obvious reasons - one being she was muggle-spawn - but for the fact that if the Dark Lord ever found out, he would Avada the life right out of Draco, and her too. And then god knows what Potter would do in retaliation for his precious mudblood dying. Probably murder everyone Draco had ever liked in some small capacity... Well, probably not, but it was possible. You never really knew what you were going to get with the chosen twat.

Draco reached the Sytherin common room and somehow managed to sneak up to his shared dormitory, and into his bed, without rousing a single soul.

He tossed and turned all night, which wasn't anything new, the only difference tonight was that this time, instead of plaguing thoughts of how he was going to fix the Vanishing Cabinet, he was trying to fight off thoughts of Granger and her tits, whilst also attempting to plan how the hell he was going to get his wand back.