Something Golden

21.

January 10 1996

I managed to steal Granger away for 10 minutes before lunch today. She protested the entire time saying anyone could walk in on us and in the back of my head I was praying they would. Then we could stop hiding in the shadows and I would be able to openly steal glances at her during class, though I already do, but she wouldn't chew my ear out afterwards for being so obvious.

Sure, our friends would take some time to come around to the idea but I don't give a fuck about them. They can drop me altogether if they have such an issue with it and if needed I might even be open to the idea of not being as big of an arse to her imbecile friends, if it made her happy.

We finalized our research paper two days ago so we no longer have that excuse for meeting in the library leaving us with quick snog sessions between classes and every other day in the astronomy tower past curfew. I cherish every moment I can get with Granger but I've already grown tired of keeping this, us, her a secret.

During defense against the dark arts I slipped a paper crane onto her desk before the other students filed in. I watched from the back of the room as she sat down, her cheeks growing red as she picked it up, knowing it was from me. I waited for her to look over her shoulder, just for a few seconds, to offer me a small smile, something, anything but she didn't. Potter had shortly after taken his seat beside her and she quickly shoved it into her pocket, out of his sight.

Countless times I've thought about marching up to her in the great hall and kissing her, claiming her, in front of everyone. Ever since Blaise told me about her and Weasley the night of the yule ball I've watched them closely. He leans into her, his eyes travel down to her mouth as she speaks and he laughs far too much when I know that whatever she had said wasn't funny enough to warrant such a reaction.

He holds the door open for her which could just be seen as him having good manners but let's be fucking real, he's a Weasley, there isn't a hint of class in his grimy fingers. I don't know how he's grown the idea that he would ever have a chance with her.

Granger deserves a man who can take care of her, support her throughout all of her brilliant achievements and Weasley is completely incapable of doing so. She does not need to be someone's caretaker, she needs someone who can stand on their own and he can't even properly tie his own bloody tie.

His shirt is always untucked, wrinkled and covered in stains. His pants are far too loose and apparently he's never heard of a belt. His shoes have skid marks on them and are falling apart at the seams, which is expected since everything he gets is a hand-me-down.

No. Even if I wasn't in the picture, Weasley would stand no chance at ever being more than a charity case for Granger but since I am in the picture, perhaps he'll cease to remain even that.

January 15 1996

He's touching her fucking arm. Nowhere in the directions does it say one must touch their partner's arm in order to properly brew a simple fucking antidote.

Now he's laughing again.

What could be so damn funny about adding mistletoe berries to a stupid cauldron?

If he moves even the slightest bit closer to her...

You know what, I told Granger I'd stop using legilimency on unknowing students after her lecture on how it's an invasion of privacy and should only be used in dire circumstances but I'd say this could fall under that class. This sod has been making eyes at my girl for far too long and so it's practically my duty to peek inside his head, for her protection of course, he could be planning her murder for all we know.

I take a deep breath before focusing my gaze and attention on him and there it is. Countless streams of consciousness all relating to Granger, my Granger. They're rather juvenile thoughts for the most part but there are the occasional ones where he's stolen glances at her arse and thought of her naked. Over my dead body Weasley.

He really thinks he could pleasure her? The muppet wouldn't even know where to begin, he'd probably wet his pants before she even took her shirt off. What a pathetic git.

She's intelligent and uptight, likes things a very particular way. She may not be very experienced but that doesn't mean you can just shove one in her and she'll be satisfied. Weasley would probably find himself rubbing the inside of her thigh thinking it's her clit. I don't even need to lay a single finger on Granger to bring her to completion twice over.

Breaking the connection from the twat's mind I turn my attention to her.

Look at me Granger.

She blinks a few times before looking up from her book at across the room at me.

There she is.

A flash her a smirk before letting myself in.

"I'm one obnoxious laugh away from breaking your friend's neck Granger."

Her eyes flicker over to Ron and then back at me, her eyebrows pulling together as she tilts her head, giving me her don't you dare stare that I'm all too familiar with.

"He's fantasized about you and I'll be damned if I let him continue to do so."

The vein in her forehead begins to protrude, just like it always has when she's about to yell at me. She slams her hands down on her table, causing odd stares from her peers.

"You can curse me out in your head Granger, I'll hear it."

She apologizes to Potter and Weasley before fixing her hair and letting out a huff as her eyes meet mine again. "You can't go using legilimency on people Draco, especially my friends."

"He doesn't want to be just your friend and if I'm not allowed to publicly claim you as mine then I think I'm entitled to making sure no one else thinks they can."

She rolls her eyes. "I am not a piece of property, no one has any claim over me."

I let out a small chuckle, foolish bint. "I'd argue you thought differently when you were moaning my name in the broom closet just an hour ago, begging me to touch you."

Her cheeks flush and her shoulders stiffen as she clears her throat.

"Or a few days ago in Flitwick's empty classroom when you had your legs wrapped tightly around me, my cock throbbing between your legs as I swirled my tongue around your nipple. Or perhaps even a week ago, when my face was buried so deep between your legs as you moaned my name, begged for me. Remember that Granger?"

Her entire neck is now the same red shade as her face, her fingers messing with her tie as she shifts in her seat.

"Because I do." I continue. "I remember pressing my tongue against your clit as I thrust my fingers in and out of you. I remember your nails digging into my skin as your walls tightened around me as you came undone and I most certainly remember the way you tasted as I licked every last drop. The thought alone is enough to get me off Granger."

She's biting down on her bottom lip now as she grips the edge of the table and I can see her legs shifting, pushing together.

"I bet my entire inheritance that if I was to run my hand between your legs right now your knickers would be dripping wet."

Her chest rises as she takes in a sharp breath and stands, asking Professor Snape to be excused to use the lavatory. As she's just about to exit she pauses in front of the door and glances over her shoulder. "Are you coming or not?"

This bloody witch.