Less Thinking, More Kissing

Part 2: Another Word

I absent mindedly make my way through the halls to the library, buried so deeply in my thoughts that I almost fall right into Crabbe/Goyle, blocking the hall. Of couse, they're accompanied by their faithful leader, Draco Malfoy. I have no time to pull out my wand or say a snide remark before Malfoy catches me by surprise, grabbing at the collar of my shirt with both hands.

"You..." he says, hand shaking slightly. His fingers are clasped tightly around the front of my robes, enough for his knuckles to whiten. Usually when Malfoy gets angry enough to lash out at me, it's because of something I did or said to provoke him. This time, however, I have no idea what I've done to make him go off so easily, but boy I wish I did. This type of information could be useful in the future.

"You..." he repeats, with growing animosity. "Going around spreading rumors, are we? Think it's fun, Potter?"

"What are you on about this time, Malfoy?" I say, sounding only mildly interested. I would say I'm scared of what he's going to do, but honestly I could do with some good hexing right about now. Anything to keep Hermione away and stop her prying for even a few hours.

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about, Potter. You and your little friends just go around these days telling things to any scrappy loon that will listen..." he lowers his voice, "Things that couldn't be less true."

"Malfoy, what-"

"SHUT IT!" he says in a brusque outburst. Crabbe/Goyle hustle forward to help Malfoy, but he holds up his wand-holding hand to stop them. I open my mouth to speak, but he gives me such a challenging look that I instantly close it. He inches his face closer to mine and whispers in a wavering voice.

"Well, guess what, Potter? Hate to break the news, but I'm nothing like you. Nothing," he says forcefully and takes a deep breath to steady his voice. "And if I ever hear anyone but that Loony Lovegood girl say anything about us-"

"Honestly what are you talking abou-" I begin to inquire, but Malfoy continues as if I never said a word.

"Then, I'll kill you before anyone else does," he finishes, still breathing heavily. He releases my robes and ,just when I think his rampage is over, Malfoy says one last thing over his shoulder.

"F****t," Malfoy practically spits the word at me. Crabbe/Goyle really do spit at my feet just for good measure. At the mention of such a vulgar word, I can feel myself slip into a silent rage, red in the face and nearly shaking. Malfoy attempts to cool himself, but I don't think I've ever seen him so disheveled. Not even after Mad-Eye Moody turned him into a...

"Ferret," I say barely above a whisper and smile slightly through the pit of anger rising in my stomach. I know Malfoy heard my remark by the way his mouth drops open. His initial shock is replaced swiftly by a smirk. Next thing I know, Crabbe/Goyle each take one of my arms and slam my back against the cool stone wall of the hallway. Malfoy slowly strides to where I'm pinned, his hands leisurely clasped behind his back. The smug look on his face is undeniably seduc... stupid. I mean stupid.

"Bet you would like to curse me, wouldn't you, Potter?" He gets in my face again, too close for comfort, but I don't back down. That arrogant smirk. "Or perhaps kiss me?" Malfoy hisses and raises an eyebrow. Crabbe/Goyle snigger in agreement. He tilts his head slightly, expecting a big reaction to his provocative words.

"If this if your way of asking people out, I'd say you haven't had much practice," I say, with a hint of challenge. The smug look is immediately wiped off of his face and I can practically see the rage fill his expressions once more.

"Shut it, Potter," Malfoy sneers.

"Or maybe Mummy and Daddy won't let you date? Too scared that you'll muck up your precious Malfoy bloodline?" I know I'll pay for being smart, but I don't care. The look on his face right now is priceless.

"Or perhaps-" Before I can say anything else I've been holding back for 4 years, Malfoy reaches into the pocket of his robes, tears out his wand and points it at my chest.

"Say another word, Potter."

"Another wor-"

"Petrificus Totalus," he says. Immediately, I can feel my muscles tense and limbs snap to my sides. I try and open my mouth or wiggle my finger, but I'm completely stiff. If it weren't for the prude prats holding me up, I definitely would've fallen.

"Draco, what are we gonna do with him?" says the deep, idiotic voice on my right. Being petrified is a good excuse for staring, so I take this opportunity to really look at Draco up close. At least, closer than staring at him from the back of the classroom in Potions or the next table over in the Great Hall.

Draco Malfoy... what's there to say? He's a strikingly platinum, slicked-back blonde with milky, unblemished skin and sharp features; pointed and well-groomed brows, a defined nose, alert grey eyes speckled blue, high cheekbones, chiseled jaw, dainty baby pink lips that move as he speaks from only a few feet away... Of course, it wasn't always this way. He once was that little boy on the train with cheeks just a bit fuller and hair just a bit shorter. He has changed quite a bit. Unfortunately, I still look like the same lanky boy from that very first day at Hogwarts, only quite a bit taller.

"... And I bet that idiot Filch and his stupid fur ball are on their way to save baby Potter as we speak, that useless Squib. He'll be sure to punish us if he finds Potter like this," Malfoy says, and I'm immediately snapped back into reality at the mention of two things: Filch and punishment. Malfoy continues his train of thought out loud.

"So, I think we must take him with us. Unless you two have a better idea?" Malfoy says. The faithful freaks shrug and shake their heads in response. No sooner, we begin to make our way to what could only be the Slytherin Dungeons.