Love's Horrid Fruit

Draco

I gasped as I sat up in bed, my body getting a rush of cold air as my sweat came in contact with it. I sat still trying not to wake my dorm mates as I moaned, my body expelling semen into my pants. When everything was finished with, I lied back down and caught my breath. My cold back felt wet and uncomfortable against my bed, my shirt against my skin. I could feel my skin prickle, especially my forehead as the sweat turned even colder and my body temperature became normal. When I felt I was calm enough, I opened my bed curtain and sat on the bed side. My left arm was hot under the cloth that was still hiding my arm.

I pulled at the knots, loosening the cloth, letting it unravel down to my wrist, the Dark Mark exposed. I cringed at the sight of it, a mixture of fear and adrenaline pumping through me. With my free hand, I timidly touched it, my finger tips barely grazing my skin. The mark moved under my skin, the movement going unnoticed except by my eyes. I watched as the skull on my arm gaped open mouthed, spewing a curling snake down to just above my wrist. Fear took over me and I wiped my arm off and grabbed another strand of cloth, reapplying the cover back to my arm.

Getting up, I grabbed a change of clothing and I went down to the lavatories, taking a wash cloth with me. Closing the door, I locked it to make sure no one would walk in on me. Cleaning myself off, I changed into black slacks, and walked back into my dorm to find everyone still asleep. I continued to get dressed, pulling on a white dress shirt and a black pullover vest. I didn’t bother making my tie anything special, just made sure you could see the green and silver stripes. When I found myself presentable, I grabbed my robes and headed up stairs for breakfast.

Thankfully I was among the select few that only came this early. Walking along the right hand wall past the entirely empty benches of the Slytherin table, I took my seat in the middle of the long table, food appearing on the dishes in front of me. I piled bread, bacon, eggs, and fruit onto my plate, and I filled my glass with cold orange juice. I took a bite of my warm toast, taking in the way it warmed my still tired being. I was thankful that Hogwarts didn’t have a policy of waiting for everyone to sit down before we eat.

I hated eating cold food.

I was refilling my plate for seconds when more students filled in. My eyes landed on the Golden Trio and I glowered at them. They took their spot directly across from me, two tables over, Harry sitting next to Hermione, both sitting across from Ron who had his back to me. With Weasilbum sitting in front of Harry, I was allowed the view of Granger.

I watched as she piled food onto her plate, daintily holding the forks and spoons needed to move the food. Something about her seemed familiar, but I couldn’t figure it out. My eyes were watching her move, hoping that a clue would come out of the way she buttered her bread.

Nothing.

“Morning, Draco,” said a low, thick voice before the body of Crabbe sat down in front of me, “How has your morning been?”

“I’ve spent most of it eating your moron,” I replied, “Where’s Goyle?”

“He’s in the water closet.”

I rolled my eyes and Crabbe filled his plate with helpings big enough for three. I made a disgusted face as I watched him stuff his mouth with eggs, some spilling out and falling onto his untouched breakfast. He reached over and grabbed a piece of toast and took a massive bite from it. Goyle took a seat next to Crabbe diagonally from me, he piled his plate with even bigger portions before taking a strip of bacon and shoving it in his mouth.

I suddenly lost my appetite.

I sipped from my drink, not listening to their stupid plans for the day, and was joined by Pansy.

“Hey Draco,” her hand slid down my arm and in between my thighs quickly before resting on my leg, “How was your night?”

She wanted me to say something about her, probably along the lines of “Miserable without you,” or “Lonely.” Saying that would encourage her idea that we were a serious couple, or that I actually cared about her.

Instead I turned to my drink and said, “Terrible.”

Pressing herself closer to me she asked, “Really?”

I nodded.

Her hand slowly dipped back in between my legs, “Did you miss me?”

I took her hand out and answered, “No.”

She frowned, hurt. Maybe not. Turning to the food, she piled small portions onto her plate. I finished off my orange juice and Professor Snape came over. He was in his usual black robes, black pants and shirt combo. His hair hung down to his shoulders, greasy and straight. In his arms, he held a pile of schedules for the students of Slytherin.

“Mr. Crabbe,” he said in his nasal voice as he handed Crabbe the parchment. He rifled through the pile and pulled out Goyle’s, Pansy’s, and my own. “Enjoy you first day of class.”

Looking down at my class schedule, I sighed, not really caring. A lot of the classes were paired with Gryffindor, the rest paired with Ravenclaw, and only one with Hufflepuff.

Fantastic.

I stood from the table wiping the crumbs off of my lap, “Ready then?”

Crabbe and Goyle stood, shoving the last bit of food into their mouths. Pansy stood too, half of the food on her plate untouched. With me in front, we made our way down into the dungeons and into the potions class room. Several students were already there, along with Granger and her friends.

“Good morning,” said a bright voice, “Please stand here.”

The voice belong to a man who was almost as round as he was tall. He wore elaborate robes of maroon color with a hat that had a tassel. His hand pointed to where the students were standing, and we took a spot where I could lean against the wall.

“Hello everyone, I am Professor Slughorn, the new, or rather old, potions master. Obviously, obviously.” He chuckled alone, “Right well, today I have four potions here-”

“Excuse me, Professor,” came a voice from the door.

Potter and his boyfriend arriving late.

My mood sank further.

“Ah, Mr. Potter, I was wondering when you would be joining us.” Professor Slughorn paused, “Who is your friend?”

“Um, Ron Weasley, sir.” Ron gave a sheepish smile.

“Right well, take out your books-”

“Um, I’m afraid we don’t have books.” Potter and Weasley slowly backed to the door.

“There are some in the cupboard.”

My mood soured. Leave it to Harry Potter to ruin my day. Even one class with out him would have been nice. Professor Slughorn started up again about his potions asking us if we could identify them. Of course I could, I’m not stupid. However, it was Hermione Granger who rose her hand.

I found myself studying her again, looking for that hint. My eyes traveled up her body, over the curve of her ass, the flatness of her stomach, her modest chest. But of all things, it was her hair that sent forward images of last nights dreams, and of dreams from the past.

Had all of my other dream girls have hair like that?

My mind was saying yes they did, but I never though so. Perhaps it was true, that all of the girls I’ve slept with in my dreams all had bushy brown hair. Or maybe it was only brown hair. Yes, that was it. They all had brown hair, all of them.

Leave it to a mudblood to help me with my problems.

Of course she got the potions right, and thankfully Slughorn didn’t give her any points. Slytherin deserved to win House Cup this year, along with our title as Quidditch champions. Of course Gryffindor has to ruin everything.

“This little vile here,” began Slughorn, “Is a very tricky little potion. Very difficult to make, fatal if you should get it wrong. This is know as Felix Felicis or more commonly as-”

“Liquid Luck.”

“Yes, Miss. Granger. Just one sip of this potion will give you the power to achieve the most difficult of tasks.”

My heart launched itself into my throat. That is exactly what I need! With Liquid Luck I could fix the Vanishing Cabinet, then with the left over liquid I could finish the rest of assignment and everything will be alright again. My father will be proud of me, I won’t be pushed around by the other Death Eaters, and my family will once again be in a good favor of the Dark Lord.

“This is what I present to you, as a reward. The student who successfully brews a Draught of Living Death will receive one vile of this potion. The Draught can be found on page 10 of your text books."

I ripped open my book, looking at the ingredients list, gathering all I needed and setting up around my cauldron. I started to work on my potion, right away finding the process incredibly difficult. A weight settled firmly on my shoulders. I wanted to stop and breathe, to calm myself, but no such luck happened. If I stopped, I would fall behind. So I continued to push through, the more frustrated I got the heavier the weight on my shoulders felt.

Nothing was working.

My potion looked monstrously wrong. Instead of jet black it had a strong hint of purple in it. Instead of smooth it was lumpy. When it was supposed to be at the right temperature, it boiled. Professor Slughorn took one look at it, and said nothing.

“How is it,” I asked, hoping for a hint of sympathetic praise.

“Terrible.”

My heart smashed into noticeably painful shards which seemed to cut at my insides, tearing me apart. The weight which had doubled due to the stress I had put into making that bloody concoction in my pewter cauldron tripled in size, suffocating me. I sat down on my stood which hadn’t been used all class and fought back tears.

Professor Slughorn continued around the room, rejecting everyone’s potions, even Granger the star pupil was tossed aside with her poor excuse of a potion. To my great frustration, it was Harry Bloody Potter who won the wretched vile. I watched with cold eyes as Slughorn handed the Liquid Luck over to the “Chosen One.”

As soon as class was dismissed, I left, not waiting for any of my house mates. I had free time, and I wanted to be alone.

In the Room of Requirements.