ϟ 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔 ϟ

Belonging

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A/N: You're a Slytherin.

~ ° ϟ ° ~

     In the Transfiguration Courtyard, many students were gathered. Not really for any particular reason, mainly just hanging out on a Saturday. Students from different houses were relaxing on the benches and chatting idly amongst themselves, playing board games and eating.

     You were with a group of other girls from different houses; Hermione, Ginny, Cho, Lavender, Luna, and a couple others.

     Listening to the conversation between the girls with your arms crossed, your eyes occasionally flitted over to where Pansy was sat with a few other Slytherin girls at a table. She had a glass of Pumpkin juice in front of her, and another girl had a glass of water that was almost empty.

     The reason why you had been subtly watching her was because you noticed that, lately, she seemed to be quite interested in your "close" friend, Mattheo Riddle.

     You would catch her sneaking glances at him from where you sat next to him, and even smiling at him when he glanced at her. He never seemed interested, though. He merely waved at her with an unchanging expression before averting his eyes to either you, his older brother, Tom, or another friend of his - like Theodore, Blaise, or Draco.

     You weren't really in a relationship with Mattheo, per se, but you were both close enough that you would get insanely jealous when someone got too close to him. Especially Pansy.

     You and Pansy had also been somewhat rivals for a while, so that didn't help the beef between the two of you.

     You were always protective of him, and perhaps maaaybe a little possessive, not that he minded. And yes, he definitely noticed.

     Now, however, Pansy was sneaking glances at him again, as he stood talking to the other Slytherin boys.

     You could tell by the hushed words and looks Pansy was giving that she was talking quite animatedly about Mattheo. She never seemed to just give up and bother some other unfortunate soul.

     Unbeknownst to her, you had an exceptional sense of hearing, and thus you heard every vile word she spoke.

     "I wonder if he ever looks at me the way I look at him," the bitch had muttered to the girl beside her, who had giggled in response, "I mean, I saw him shirtless the other day, and lemme tell yah, damn-"

     Your blood boiled - though you agreed, as you have also seen him shirtless... enough times to make the bitch astronomically jealous if she only knew - but you only continued to listen as you glanced between the girls in front of you to look inconspicuous.

     "I've had eyes for him for a while, now," she bragged, "Too bad he has that overprotective bitch clinging to him all the time-"

     Within a split second, there was a shattered glass on the ground with pumpkin juice splattered between the cracks and crevices, another knocked over and leaking water onto the table, and a wrinkled fistful of Pansy's blouse wrenched forward by your tightly closed fist. Your right hand was also balled into a tight fist, knuckles slammed painfully against the hard surface of the table as it held your torso up. You were partially leaned over said table, Pansy involuntarily pulled to meet you halfway with a terrified expression.

     Your face was mere inches from hers, and everything within a several meter radius went silent.

     She felt your heated breath fan her face, and everyone around could tell you were absolutely livid.

     "You can't have him," you growl out loud enough for said boy to overhear, "He belongs to me."

     She breathed heavily, feeling her body heat up in fear and embarrassment in front of almost everyone in the courtyard.

     "I catch you so much as breathing too loud in his direction, I swear to whatever you fucking pray to that I will pin you to the wall with your own wand and cast the Cruciatus curse on you until you drop dead."

     The more you stared into her face, the more your blood pressure rose and the more you wanted to go through with it.

     "This isn't a threat," you breathed heavily, "It's a fucking promise."

     The girl you glared at shuddered under your overbearing eyes.

     "Do I make myself clear, Parkinson?" you spat out her surname with such venom, it would be hard for anyone to believe you would not turn into a Basilisk yourself and and do something much worse than merely petrify her.

     She nodded once.

     "You want a bitch?" you muttered, "I'll give you a fucking bitch." You let go of her now wrinkled blouse.

     You knew it was one that she was particularly fond of, as she wore it often.

     You hoped that the wrinkles you put in the expensive fabric were permanent, and you grinned darkly.

     She stood and quickly walked away, and the other three girls she was rattling off to scuttled after her.

     The grin quickly faded into a scowl as your infuriated eyes followed where she ran off to.

     The direction she went just so happened to be near where Mattheo stood watching with his mouth agape, and so your eyes met his before you could think.

     Theo and Draco nudged Mattheo, and Blaise and Tom grinned.

     They knew you had claimed Mattheo as yours from the beginning, and that you were like a large, fiery red dragon greedily guarding its plunder.

     You averted your gaze and walked into the school, intending to head to your dorm room.

     Just as you expected him to, he followed you all the way to your dorm room. You left the door open for him as you walked to your bed and sat on it.

     He entered and closed it behind him.

     You remained on the edge of your bed and he approached you, kneeling in front of you and looking up at you. "Did you mean what you said?" he asked, a slight grin on his face.

     You huffed an amused breath.

     "Of course I did, the bitch had no place to talk about you that way."

     His grin only grew.

     "Gotta admit, it was kind of hot."

     You let out a laugh, shaking your head.

     "Damn straight," you snarked, leaning down toward him a little, "I'm always hot." You muttered the last words, your eyelids closing halfway as all humour had disappeared from your face.

     That seemed to awaken something within Mattheo as he swiftly leaned up and pushed you back against the bed. He sealed your lips with his, sending butterflies fluttering into your stomach.

     "You're right about one thing," he muttered between kisses, "I'm yours. Only yours."

     You grinned against his mouth and slipped a hand behind his neck, pulling him deeper into the heated kiss.

     "I'm always right, and I'm only yours."

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