Three Months Left

Chapter 2

Every time she passes him in those shoes, his dick twitches in his trousers. Brushing by him to get to her seat in lessons, he can smell her hair. Her fingers grip her quill and he remembers how they felt gripping him. Her head dips low over the table and he wonders again if she ever gets ink in her hair. He'd like to wash it for her.

Granger in the bath. Forget the Prefect Bath, the Come and Go Room could work wonders with a wish like that. He'll get his hands all in her hair, fingers scraping across her scalp as he massages in shampoo. He can tilt her head back to kiss her, work his way all the way down her neck while he holds her in place. He can glamour his forearm. He'll have to test that to make sure it's solid.

Zabini elbows him lightly and asks him to pass the doxy eggs, which Draco carefully handles across the table. He looks back at his own concoction, simmering nicely, and checks the timer. Four more minutes to imagine Granger in the bath. Bubbles or no bubbles? He can't decide whether the visual obstruction would make things hotter or -

Zabini elbows him again and Draco feels a stab of annoyance, mimicked by the throb in his pants. "What now?"

"I need that silver knife."

"For what?"

"The next step, you wanker. Pay attention."

Bugger. Draco curses. Meanwhile, Granger's finished her brew - of course, she has, and she steps lightly across the room to deliver her sample to Slughorn's desk. The heels of the shoes clack against the stone floor and his eyes are diverted again. Her toes are peeking out the tip, and he thinks he sees red polish today. He'll look closer later.

"Malfoy, for Salazar's sake," Zabini whispers through gritted teeth. "I thought you wanted top marks this year."

"What's it to you?" he snaps, forgetting to keep quiet, and Pansy and Theo both turn to look at them.

Blaise waves them off, looking irritated. "Forget it, then. Get straight P's or D's on exams, I don't care."

Draco doesn't know why he would anyway, unless he is reporting back to someone. But no one would care about his marks. It's his focus in other areas - one other area - that would necessitate monitoring. He narrows his eyes suddenly, thinking of Snape. Snape keeps offering to help him and Draco keeps shutting it down. Maybe he asked Blaise to keep an eye on him.

That annoys Draco so much he misses Granger make her way back to her seat, heels tapping and painted toes flashing.

What else could he buy for her? She's worn the shoes every day and he could slowly progress to sexier pairs. He's limited by their school uniforms, but he could buy her stockings. It's too warm for scarves, but he thinks she'd wear special knickers for him, too. She's gone without them already, figuring he'd like it. He could provide some options.

Or maybe a necklace. Not jewellery exactly, but something long, dangling far beneath her robes, coming to rest right between her perfect tits. He could watch it bounce there.

"Very nice, Mr Zabini, Mr Malfoy!" Slughorn chortles, and Draco comes back to the present with a jerk. Zabini is handing in two vials of potion, casually bringing Draco's along with his own. Draco hadn't finished his, though, and he rolls his jaw at the knowledge that Blaise must have done it for him. Now he owes Zabini a favour, for fuck's sake. Fucking Slytherins; it's what he would do. He wonders what Blaise is going to want in return and groans internally. He can't leave himself open like that.

* * *

"Can I mark you?" he whispers into her neck, relishing the shiver it produces. He gently attaches his lips to her skin, kissing, nibbling a little, and sucking at her lightly. She sighs and leans back into him.