A Kiss With a Fist
A Kiss with a Fist
“I still cannot believe you are forcing me to go to this thing!” Hera Haff exclaimed to her mother for the hundredth time. Beatrice Haff was preparing their grand fireplace with Floo Powder.
“Hera,” she sighed, also for the hundredth time. “I don’t know anything about this fallout you had with Draco, but today is his birthday party and his parents are our friends- not to mention some of the most important members of the wizarding community. I will certainly not risk this family’s reputation for some silly little teenage heartbreak.”
“Ugh!” Hera stormed into the kitchen. She hated everything about this day- the dress she was wearing, the way her mother and father were so unsympathetic about her nasty break-up with Draco months before- and the aftermath.
The way her black, strapless dress bit and snarled on her skin infuriated Hera to no end. It would make it hurt that much more when she was forced to look at Draco with that daft, drab Pansy Parkinson- the girl he inexplicably left her for.
“Hera! We’re leaving!” Her father Mariano’s voice now rang out. “Get ready to Floo!”
“One minute!” Hera yelled back. She looked into her reflection on the shiny black oven in her extravagant kitchen. Her mascara was thick and heavy with dread, and her blonde hair was long and fell naturally today. It was pretty. It made Hera feel sick.
She trudged back into the living room and welcomed the choking, swallowed up feeling of the Floo powder magic. She wished it would last forever. But alas, it was barely a second before she and her parents were sent straight into the Gothic living room of Malfoy Manor.
“Beatrice! Mariano! How good to see you!” cooed the ever-fake Narcissa Malfoy. “And Hera! You look just darling!”
“Thanks, Mrs. Malfoy...” Hera grumbled. “Do you know where Draco is?”
“Yes, he’s in the kitchen,” Narcissa pointed to her left.
“Perfect!” Hera smiled tightly as she turned in the complete opposite direction of Narcissa’s point and stomped off.
Finding some alcohol would be nice. Maybe getting a good buzz going would make this night bearable. In the meantime, however, she’d just have to do her best to avoid Draco and Pansy.
She glided boredly from conversation to insufferable conversation. Every one of these old, regal batties was the same- drab and only worried about themselves. Hera did her best to be polite, while at the same time always keeping her eyes open for that familiar head of white blonde hair.
Eventually, however, she needed a breath of fresh air. Hera ducked out of a just riveting discussion about blood rights with the creepy Peter Pettigrew and exited the front door.
Gripping the cast iron rail, Hera peered out into the long, expansive courtyards that stretched out from Malfoy Manor. The property really was beautiful and grand. Once again, the beauty made her feel sick.
A deep breath wasn’t enough to make Hera loosen her hold on the railing. Keeping her guard up, avoiding him like this... It was getting tiring.
She wouldn’t have to do it much longer.
“Fancy seeing you here.” Said that voice, with a reptilian satisfaction. Hera didn’t turn around, instead, she rolled her eyes and kept her hands tight on the rail.
“I suppose I couldn’t avoid you all night, could I?” She said sarcastically through gritted teeth. “Is Pansy with you?”
“She’s inside. I came out here looking for the same thing as you- some alone time.”
“Good. Then leave. That way we both get what we want.” Hera snapped back, but footsteps didn’t follow.
“You know you miss me.” He responded. Hera, finally, turned to face his smug smile. The fire that burned through her was a combination of sick longing, painful desire, and complete and total rage.
“Get. Away from me.” She hissed at him.
“Now, now. That’s no way to treat the birthday boy, is it?”
Hera couldn’t stand his attitude. She put both hands firmly on her hips and circled him like a jungle cat, hair standing up, ready for a fight.
“Oh I know exactly how this birthday is going to go.” She growled. “Today is your birthday and you plan to spend it clueless and hanging off the arm of that bimbo Pansy Parkinson. How does that make you feel? Because I can tell you how that makes me feel. Hurt. Lonely. Angry. Full of pity for you and the person you used to be. So happy 17th birthday. I’ll make your wishes for you.
“I wish I hadn’t have been the first to know about you and her. I wish that when you told me about her, I had said “Congratulations, I hope she’s better than me.” Instead of just walking out like a fool the way I did!
“I wish you hadn’t given up. You once said you never wanted to be the guy everyone thought you were. Well, you’re not. You’re worse.
“I wish you’d stop killing yourself by being with this suffocating girl. Slowly, it’s killing me too.
“I wish you’d love me.
“I wish you the best, I wish you the worst, and I wish you to make it to 18 because, let’s face it, it doesn’t look that way now.”
“Are you saying that you want me back? Because I’d be open to something... something like a kiss...” He strutted towards her, lips parting. Hera stopped him with the fiercest of stares and the most angry of snarled lips.
“I’m done, Draco Malfoy. I’m done pining over you. I love you, but I won’t put myself through your shit and all the torture it brings me. Not anymore. This isn’t a hook-up- this is my closure. You try to kiss me... And you’ll get a kiss with a fist.”
“Hera,” she sighed, also for the hundredth time. “I don’t know anything about this fallout you had with Draco, but today is his birthday party and his parents are our friends- not to mention some of the most important members of the wizarding community. I will certainly not risk this family’s reputation for some silly little teenage heartbreak.”
“Ugh!” Hera stormed into the kitchen. She hated everything about this day- the dress she was wearing, the way her mother and father were so unsympathetic about her nasty break-up with Draco months before- and the aftermath.
The way her black, strapless dress bit and snarled on her skin infuriated Hera to no end. It would make it hurt that much more when she was forced to look at Draco with that daft, drab Pansy Parkinson- the girl he inexplicably left her for.
“Hera! We’re leaving!” Her father Mariano’s voice now rang out. “Get ready to Floo!”
“One minute!” Hera yelled back. She looked into her reflection on the shiny black oven in her extravagant kitchen. Her mascara was thick and heavy with dread, and her blonde hair was long and fell naturally today. It was pretty. It made Hera feel sick.
She trudged back into the living room and welcomed the choking, swallowed up feeling of the Floo powder magic. She wished it would last forever. But alas, it was barely a second before she and her parents were sent straight into the Gothic living room of Malfoy Manor.
“Beatrice! Mariano! How good to see you!” cooed the ever-fake Narcissa Malfoy. “And Hera! You look just darling!”
“Thanks, Mrs. Malfoy...” Hera grumbled. “Do you know where Draco is?”
“Yes, he’s in the kitchen,” Narcissa pointed to her left.
“Perfect!” Hera smiled tightly as she turned in the complete opposite direction of Narcissa’s point and stomped off.
Finding some alcohol would be nice. Maybe getting a good buzz going would make this night bearable. In the meantime, however, she’d just have to do her best to avoid Draco and Pansy.
She glided boredly from conversation to insufferable conversation. Every one of these old, regal batties was the same- drab and only worried about themselves. Hera did her best to be polite, while at the same time always keeping her eyes open for that familiar head of white blonde hair.
Eventually, however, she needed a breath of fresh air. Hera ducked out of a just riveting discussion about blood rights with the creepy Peter Pettigrew and exited the front door.
Gripping the cast iron rail, Hera peered out into the long, expansive courtyards that stretched out from Malfoy Manor. The property really was beautiful and grand. Once again, the beauty made her feel sick.
A deep breath wasn’t enough to make Hera loosen her hold on the railing. Keeping her guard up, avoiding him like this... It was getting tiring.
She wouldn’t have to do it much longer.
“Fancy seeing you here.” Said that voice, with a reptilian satisfaction. Hera didn’t turn around, instead, she rolled her eyes and kept her hands tight on the rail.
“I suppose I couldn’t avoid you all night, could I?” She said sarcastically through gritted teeth. “Is Pansy with you?”
“She’s inside. I came out here looking for the same thing as you- some alone time.”
“Good. Then leave. That way we both get what we want.” Hera snapped back, but footsteps didn’t follow.
“You know you miss me.” He responded. Hera, finally, turned to face his smug smile. The fire that burned through her was a combination of sick longing, painful desire, and complete and total rage.
“Get. Away from me.” She hissed at him.
“Now, now. That’s no way to treat the birthday boy, is it?”
Hera couldn’t stand his attitude. She put both hands firmly on her hips and circled him like a jungle cat, hair standing up, ready for a fight.
“Oh I know exactly how this birthday is going to go.” She growled. “Today is your birthday and you plan to spend it clueless and hanging off the arm of that bimbo Pansy Parkinson. How does that make you feel? Because I can tell you how that makes me feel. Hurt. Lonely. Angry. Full of pity for you and the person you used to be. So happy 17th birthday. I’ll make your wishes for you.
“I wish I hadn’t have been the first to know about you and her. I wish that when you told me about her, I had said “Congratulations, I hope she’s better than me.” Instead of just walking out like a fool the way I did!
“I wish you hadn’t given up. You once said you never wanted to be the guy everyone thought you were. Well, you’re not. You’re worse.
“I wish you’d stop killing yourself by being with this suffocating girl. Slowly, it’s killing me too.
“I wish you’d love me.
“I wish you the best, I wish you the worst, and I wish you to make it to 18 because, let’s face it, it doesn’t look that way now.”
“Are you saying that you want me back? Because I’d be open to something... something like a kiss...” He strutted towards her, lips parting. Hera stopped him with the fiercest of stares and the most angry of snarled lips.
“I’m done, Draco Malfoy. I’m done pining over you. I love you, but I won’t put myself through your shit and all the torture it brings me. Not anymore. This isn’t a hook-up- this is my closure. You try to kiss me... And you’ll get a kiss with a fist.”