Storm Cloud Eyes

So...this exists...its around 9,000 words...i worked on this instead of my wip...there is smut...i edited it in the span of two days so its probably not perfect...have fun:) 

The gloss of his silver and emerald tie flashed in the sunlight streaming in through the stained glass, arched windows.

His sharp tongue peaked out from behind that cocky smirk that could always be found at home upon his lips. The boy tilted his head back in triumph, claiming victory before he had achieved it. The battle had only just begun, and you were nothing less than a formidable enemy.

Then there were his eyes.

His storm cloud gaze struck through you, parting your flesh and searing your insides with a brand you would never admit lay there.

Draco Malfoy.

The Slytherin Prince.

"Where do you think you're going, Y/L/N," he called from behind you, "I decide when I'm through with you."

His voice was an ominous echo off the domed ceiling. You could feel his steps vibrating through the floor despite the other students in the hallway. It was a silent promise that he would catch up with you, and there was nowhere you could go that he wouldn't follow.

It didn't mean you were going to make it easy on him.

You could hear Malfoy's crew of idiot friends snicker at something the blonde said. Smoke seemed to trail off of your frame as you burned with pure loathing.

Not today, any other day but today...

You had met Draco Malfoy as a measly first year at the age of eleven.

Your hair had been an unruly mop on top of your head, there had been dirt built up under your jagged fingernail edges, and you had been alight with hope and excitement for the years that would come.

Even from such a young age you had always been kind, curious, and alive with an inhibited joy that defined you.

Never had you thought that while you were about to embark on a journey where you would meet the most amazing friends you could ever ask for, you would also meet a boy that would turn your world upside down.

The rivalry had started on the Hogwarts train platform. You had just stepped into your new adventure as the train's howling whistle faded into the distance.

You could distinctly remember obsessively adjusting the collar of your shirt. Your mother had ironed it for you that morning, but all your fidgeting had left it creased and wrinkled, destroying her hard work.

You weren't used to the stiffness of the uniform having grown accustomed to wearing dresses when you played as it gave you more freedom.

You had been plucking at one of the buttons when you heard something that would change your life forever.

"Watch it," sneered a voice followed by a jarring thump as somebody collided with the ground, "don't you know to get out of the way of those who are better than you? You're a pathetic excuse for a pureblood, Longbottom."

As you would grow to expect - ridiculous, wild laughter followed his comment despite the lack of anything funny. Uneasiness rolled in your stomach; you couldn't sit back and do nothing.

Ignoring the beckonings of the tall bearded man ushering the first years his way, you turned around. The crowd rushed over you. Even with the bodies knocking into you, you were able to spot your intended target easily enough.

Your gaze landed on a disheveled boy planted firmly on the ground. His chin was quivering, and you knew his hands must be cut up from where they had scraped the gravel. Then you trailed your eyes to the boy standing over him. His platinum hair was slicked back and his hands were bunched into fists. Two larger boys towered over his shoulders, as if they were bodyguards.