Bitter Chocolate - (A 'Veronica Weasley' sequel) || Draco Malfoy

29 - Another Happy Fucking Birthday

Seven years to the day I was almost date raped and murdered, I opened my eyes.

"Happy birthday, Weasley."

I yawned, and blearily sat up; kicking my legs out from under the duvet as I took in the sight before me.

Draco Malfoy, clad only in a pair of tight black boxers and looking like a fucking underwear model, was entering my bedroom carrying a tray, upon which sat a mug of steaming coffee, a stack of pancakes dripping in syrup, and what looked hopefully to be a present.

Why the fuck couldn't it be me that he was marrying?

"Draco Malfoy, were you just making breakfast naked in my kitchen?"

He grinned wickedly, his silver grey eyes issuing a little twinkle as he placed the tray on my lap and dropped down uninvited on my bed next to me; the scent of his cologne making my stomach give an unexpected twist of longing.

"Draco, as sweet as this is, I don't think it's very appropriate for you to be laying in bed with me, half naked." I couldn't help but glance down at the bulge in his boxers.

"Oh come on, Weasley, you've seen it all before." He smirked. "And more."

"Yes, but it's different now." I said, tearing my eyes away and trying desperately to ignore the sudden yearning coursing through my veins. "I don't want to be your mistress, Draco."

"Ronnie, stop saying that. I'm not asking you to be. I just want you to have a good birthday. Now open your present."

Not being able to resist a gift wrapped parcel, I greedily ripped the wrapping off.

"Is this supposed to be some kind of sick joke?" I spat, waving the box of chocolate cauldrons in his face. "Because it's not fucking funny!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he chuckled, not looking sorry at all, "I couldn't resist. I still can't believe you kissed Crabbe though."

"You better not have laced them with love potion," I glared. "Because that's just rape! Next you'll be bringing out a bottle of fucking mead and asking me to order my coffin out of the catalogue!"

His face dropped instantly. "Don't even joke about dying, Weasley."

"Well you're the one joking about date rape!"

"He would never have touched you, I wouldn't have let him. Besides it was Granger he wanted."

"Yeah, cheers for that, thanks for reminding me that I couldn't even pull Crabbe." I bit, angrily stabbing my fork into a pancake.

"You sound almost disappointed there, Weasley." He said, cocking an eyebrow.

I said nothing, instead moodily shovelling pancake in my gob, splattering syrup all down my chin.

Draco gave a small exasperated sigh and I could see him shaking his head out of the corner of my eye. He picked up the newspaper which had been hidden under the present and unfolded it out in front of him.

"What the-?" he started as his eyes scanned the front page.

"What's the mat-" I stopped short as I saw the picture that had rendered him speechless.

It was me; storming angrily away from the table where Harry sat looking furious and Hermione shaking in tears. The headline above it read: Veronica Weasley: Wicked Witch Of the West Country.

A horrifying wave of sickness tore through me as I read on.

The Golden Trio hit troubled waters last night as it seems that Devonshire born Veronica Weasley can no longer contain her jealousy at the success and glory of her accomplished counterparts.