𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

the one with the muggle song

"The first thing you need to know
about me is, I'm not you.
A lot will make sense after that."

•

DRACO HAD A WAY with his tongue, I realized, as he groaned lightly between my thighs, that wrapped around his shoulders as I sat on top of the desk in his room. He got up and, with a triumphant smirk, rubbed his thumb along his lip. "The doors don't have locks," he said.

I sat there, shamelessly naked, in nothing but a large white shirt, which belonged to Draco, and looked at him, out of breath, his blond hair messy, and his face flushed.

"I'm aware," I said quietly, trying not to let my voice quiver from the recollection of what had just happened. Draco Malfoy had his way with everything, I realized.

His arms wrapped around me waist, lifting the shirt up slightly, as his warm fingers touched the bare skin of my hips. A moan left me before I could stop myself. He smirked wider, planting his lips on my neck, close to my collarbone. "Can you do that louder for me, please?" It wasn't a request.

His nails, a little chippy, dug into my skin, and travelled inwards. He spread my legs apart and pulled me towards him. Another whimper left me. I wanted to touch him, run my hands through his hair, on his flawless skin, but Draco was good at magic, so good infact, the knots around my wrist were impossible to open even with my power. His kisses turned to bites as his fingers reached my wet, longing centre. It was sinful, I realized, my face burning.

My skin was crawling with sin, left from the fading stamps of his fingertips left on my body. The pressed indents of his teeth scattered my body like railroad tracks. He had always been my forbidden fruit, but tonight it was me dripping down his chin.

It stopped too soon for my liking. He was done. He stepped back after sending me to a high for the second time, and flicked his wand. The knots came undone. He held my hands in his, and he kissed where the magical ropes had left a faint mark. "Did it hurt you?"

I looked at him, a little weak on my feet when I stepped down from the table. He was standing against the light, warm sunshine filtered through the pale curtains illuminated around him like a halo, like a hero from the epics was made just for me. His pale, almost too pale skin was glossy from the faint sheen of sweat, and his hair was sticking in all directions, and yet he managed to look so beautiful that I had to look away.

"No," I said quietly. "How did I get so lucky?"

He cocked his head to a side, as I walked past him to the bed, putting on my discarded clothes. "What do you mean?"

I smiled faintly to myself. "Nothing," I laughed lightly. Draco Malfoy and I were very different; we burned in different hues, but most times they blended together and formed something extraterrestrial. This was a fairytale. Draco Malfoy was royalty and I was the strange girl from an orphanage. "I'm going to take a shower. You should get ready too. Hermione and Ron would be here anytime."

-

It had been two weeks since we came here. Half a month. In fifteen days it would be Harry's birthday. Two weeks since I've been living in the same house with Sirius, Draco and Harry. Remus and Tonks recently got married, in court. It was a small wedding. We had a apple pie and various delicacies prepared for them at Grimmauld Place. Draco had the hardest time adjusting.

He was always a little wary of Remus, because he was a werewolf. From what I figured, he didn't hate Remus. When he was young, he had met Fenrir Greyback, owing to him and Lucius being Death Eater buddies. And on a full moon, Fenrir lost control and most attacked Draco. He was two. If it hadn't been for his father, he'd have been a werewolf as well. So, from what Draco told me, I understood it was not hatred. It was fear. Draco feared werewolves because of his trauma as a child.