He's Just a Phase, Right? (A Draco Malfoy Story)

He's Just a Phase, Right? [Hogwarts Sex-Press]

Disclaimer: Some characters, ideas and settings of this story are not mine, but are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling. Also, this story is already completed and has a sequel in progress, but I am editing it to be more appropriate as it delves into some darker themes regarding addiction and drug use. It will not be overly sexual in nature, but will touch on those themes as well. If you are uncomfortable with this, I suggest you do not read it.

The alarm clock on your nightstand blared out Top 40 hits radio. Your brow furrowed at the disturbance, and you pulled a pillow over your head to shield your ears from the racket. Suddenly, the alarm clock flew across the room on its own, crashing into the wall and falling to pieces. The room silenced, except for the sound of the shower running from the en-suite bathroom. The sunlight poured in through the half open blinds. You sat up, taking hold of your pounding head. You reached across your bed into your nightstand. After a moment of grasping blindly at the contents within the drawer, you pulled out a small white bottle and popped open the lid. You tipped two Ambien into your open palm.

"Thank you, Nancy," you said. You tipped your head back and swallowed them with a bottle of water you kept by your bed at all times. Nancy was your step-mother. Nancy was also the one with the fully stocked pharmacy in her medicine cabinet, thanks to the affair with her doctor four years ago allowing her to blackmail him into writing bogus prescriptions. She was often too zonked out on painkillers to notice what you stole from her.

The pills had just started to take effect when the shower turned off in the bathroom. You could hear footsteps coming toward you. The comforter was pulled over your naked body. You managed to lift your heavy eyelids open for a few seconds to see Kyle sitting next to you.

"Some party," he said.

Kyle was a surfer. He was blonde and tan, and had a pretty well defined six pack that was now hidden underneath his billabong t-shirt. You met him on the beach the previous evening at your friend Matt's party. It wasn't long before you were completely hammered and inviting him home with you.

"I think I drank too much," you said, your eyes closed.

"I think you did, too."

"Yeah... Well, I'll see you around." You turned over onto her stomach, waving your arm to dismiss him. The truth was, you did not intend to see him ever again. You listened until you heard the bedroom door shut with a click before the pills sent you back into a dreamless sleep.

* * * *

The phone was the next noise you woke up to. You grunted, your arm reaching onto the floor next to the bed for the pink rotary phone you got when you were twelve. It was cute, but at the moment your head couldn't handle the obnoxious ringing of the old style phone.

"Hullo?"

"KRIS? Kris are you sleeping?!" You just grunted in response. "Well, I hope you're packed up to leave."

"Danielle, relax. I'll be ready."

"Okay..." she said, anxiety evident in her voice. She had always been such a worrier. "Well, I'm just leaving now, so I'll be there in half an hour."

"What?!" You shot up from bed, looking frantically toward the bare spot on your nightstand where your alarm clock once sat. You spotted the several broken pieces of it on the floor and flung yourself out of bed.

"You will be ready, won't you?" Danielle asked, somewhat alarmed at your outburst.

"Uh, yeah totally. See you then!" You hung up and quickly began throwing things haphazardly into your trunk. You paused, smelling the shirt you were wearing. It reeked of smoke and beer. You pulled off all of your clothes on the way to the bathroom, taking a quick five minute shower to get the stink and sweat off of you. When you wiped the foggy bathroom mirror, you paused and examined your reflection. Dark circles lined the bottom of your eyes. Picking up the concealer on the counter in front of you, you dabbed it on until they were hardly noticeable. Deeming that enough effort, you left the bathroom and dressed in some clean clothes that were in a crumpled pile on your bedroom floor.