Colder Than Ice

Chapter Eleven

“Now, don't put your fingers near your mouths unless you want to be spouting off truths and secrets about yourselves for the next twenty four hours.” Drawled Snape, throwing both Draco and Paisley cloths and confiscating their wands.

“Now as thrilling as it would be to stand here and watch you clean, I have other important matters to attend too.” He said, his voice never wavering from monotone. He walked briskly out of the potions room, his black robes billowing out from behind his retreating form.

Paisley looked at the pile of cauldrons, vaguely resembling a mountain and groaned. They were the cauldrons that they had used to brew the Veritaserum, that's why Snape didn't want them to touch their mouths.

Paisley figured that the faster she started the faster she could get out of Draco's presence, she could already feeling herself becoming bitter and cold by each passing second.

She scrubbed at her first cauldron and had started on the second when she noticed that Draco was just standing there, looking at the mess.

“They're not going to clean themselves, Ferret face.” Said a very annoyed Paisley, throwing her rag down in the soapy water and turning to stare down Malfoy.

“This is servant work, my father will be hearing about this.” He said, picking up his rag with two fingers, keeping it at what he thought was a 'safe' distance from himself.

“Come on, Princess.” Smiled Paisley, picking up her dirty rag from the soapy water and smacked him in the face with it. It made contact with a sloshy wet 'smack'. Paisley was on the floor in hysterics and Draco was caught completely off guard.

He turned to her, slowly, a death glare on his face. He couldn't believe the nerve of this girl, she was a Longbottom and he was a Malfoy. Malfoy's demanded respect when they walked in a room, Longbottom's were laughed at when they walked in a room.

Draco wiped the the water off of his face, wiping a few drops off of his lips.

“You insolent little girl.” Whispered Draco, his eyes flashing with hate. He had grabbed onto Paisley's wrists and was gripping them as tight as he could.

Paisley screamed when she felt her wrist break. A searing pain shooting up her arm, it was intense that she almost blacked out.

Then Draco let go, he felt remorse. Malfoy's never felt remorse, he had choked Pansy once when she borrowed a quill without asking. He had used the Imperius Curse on Marcus Flint because he hadn't played him in the Slytherin V.S Ravenclaw game.

There was also that other time when he used Cruciatus Curse on Crabbe strictly because he was annoying. Malfoy's didn't feel remorse.

“You, are the biggest pratt, ever!” Shouted Paisley, cradling her wrist, “I can't even punch you because you broke my wrist!”

She settled for kicking him in the shin, really hard. Then he took his rag and flung it at her, it hit Paisley smack dab in her face.

Paisley retaliated by dipping her hands into the sink and splashing Draco with a handful of dirty water.

Thirty minutes later, both students were sitting on the floor of the cold floor, doused in water. Paisley noticed that Draco's usually well kept hair was hanging on front of his eyes, it was good look on him. It made his features look less sharp.

Draco noticed that he liked the way Paisley looked when she smiled, he liked the way her eyes held fire in them when he pushed her buttons. He liked that she fought back like a real Slytherin.

“So, why are you such a pratt?” Asked Paisley, in all seriousness, she really wanted to know.

“My dad I guess. Never been one to really show any emotion other than distaste.” He said, acting like it was no big deal, suddenly his eyes grew wide. Why had he just said that?

Then it dawned on both of them in the same moment as their lips formed the words,

'Veritaserum'.

“Oh, I'm going to have fun with this.” Said Paisley, Draco noticed once again that she had taken to adopting his smirk. He didn't like it.

“Are you a tosser?” Asked Paisley a smile on her face, he was so well dresses, he had to be gay.

“No, I like women!” He said, sounding completely outraged.

“Do you wet your trousers?” She asked, laughing. As his face turned red and he shook his head.

Draco wondered why she didn't ask him more serious questions like if he was a death eater, courageous and brave Neville Longbottom was, after all, her do gooder brother.

“Do you-” Paisley had started to ask a question but Draco would be damned if he wasted this opportunity to humiliate someone.

“I bet you fancy Harry Pothead.” Said Draco, rushing out his sentence in hopes he would get his questions out first.

Much to Draco surprise she shook her head, Draco thought every girl, even Slytherin girls were in love with Scarhead.

Paisley fought the effects of the potion, even if she didn't fancy Harry, she didn't want to be forced to tell the truth, no one forced Paisley Longbottom to do anything.

Draco smirked, wickedly. A girl's vice was who she fancied, it was ultimate humiliation for them, especially if the bloke they fancied, didn't want her.

“Who do you fancy?” He all but yelled. She clamped her mouth shut, fighting herself. Suddenly, it all came out in a slur of words.

“Well, I mean your not bad, your quite handsome. Although, your such a prat, and quite cold if you ask me. Your pretty much the only bloke I've met here, so don't get a bigger head than you've already got or you won't fit through that damn door.”

To spare herself some embarrassment, she asked, just as rushed as ever,

“Who do you fancy?”