"Nugghhhh," I groan when Onyx tries to drag me out of bed.
"Evan. Class. Ten minutes. Already missed breakfast. Let's go," Onyx snaps, and I can tell she's feeling as awful as I do.
"What. . . class. . .?" I ask, groaning into my pillow as Pansy and Onyx both try to drag me out of bed, one on each of my arms. They're both pulling in their own directions, and I'm just staying stationary, starfished on my bed.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Pansy answers, very shortly and irritably. She gives up on trying to pull me out of bed and instead flops down beside me. I wrap my arms around Pansy's neck and we both groan in agony, our heads throbbing. Onyx sighs and, seeing as both Pansy and I have given up, she takes it upon herself to drag us both.
"Come onnnn," Onyx whines, pulling one of my wrists and one of Pansy's so hard, we are yanked off the side of the bed and both go tumbling down to the floor.
"Bitch!" Pansy exclaims, and I rub my elbow, hissing in pain.
I look down and see, to my complete astonishment, that the vase from my nightstand is shattered on the floor next to me and I've just cut my elbow on the shards.
"What the fuck happened to my vase?"
---
All six of my merry band of Slytherins are nursing killer hangovers.
Snape is droning on and on about werewolf venom, the level of toxicity and how to spot a complete werewolf bite. The lights are off because he's showing a slideshow, but this does nothing to help my sensitive eyes.
Pansy has her head on my shoulder, and I'm sure she's snoozing. Onyx and Theo are at the table behind us and they're both leaning on their hands, drooling. Blaise and Malfoy are to the left of us, and every once in a while I hear Blaise groan, especially when Snape clicks to the next slide and we are momentarily blinded by the light.
I can't take it anymore.
"Pssst," I hiss to the two redheads in front of me. "Oi!" I whisper scream in desperation.
Fred Weasley turns around, grinning at me. He quirks an eyebrow and his brother laughs at me.
"Rough night?" Fred mouths. I nod and make pleading hands.
Fred knows what I want. He reaches into his bag and, after a glare from Snape and a few moments of anticipation, he sets a small vial of potion on the floor under his desk. He kicks it gently and it rolls backwards, hitting right up against my foot.
I make praying hands and close my eyes in thanks.
"I love you," I mouth dramatically to Fred, who laughs, and I reach down to retrieve the hangover cure from my feet.
A loud smack awakens my senses, and I almost drop the potion that will lead to my salvation.
Snape has snapped his book down onto his desk and, to my utter horror, he suddenly flips on the lights, causing all of my Slytherin friends to groan in pain.
"Turn to page 97 of your textbooks. Now," Snape drawls. There's a shuffle as we all open our books, and Pansy snaps awake when I nudge her, glaring at me and rubbing her forehead.
When Snape isn't looking, I down half the potion and hand the rest to Pansy. She practically cries, downing it quickly so as not to be seen.
The effects are not immediate, but by the time class is over, I no longer want to pitch myself off of the Astronomy Tower.
At least, momentarily.
Because without having to focus on the pain in my skull, I now remember the events of the previous night.
Dancing. Spin the bottle. Firewhiskey. Malfoy. His request. A hand around my throat.
And my knee to his groin.
I try to shake it off, I really do. And in a way, I'm proud of my behavior. When faced with a drunk and horny Malfoy, I stood my ground and fucking destroyed his balls.
But now I'm noticing his stares, and how he won't stop glaring at me, and how every time I look at his eyes, they're already on mine.
I get all the way to lunch before we actually exchange words.
I'm walking out, planning to walk the grounds for some fresh air or maybe go back to the common room for a nap. I'm trailing behind the others, watching Onyx and Pansy laugh with Theo and Blaise, when I feel his presense behind me.
"Blackwood," he says when he sees me looking back at him.
"Malfoy," I say sweetly, spinning around and walking backwards to keep my eyes on him. The others turn a corner and I slow down until they're just barely out of earshot. To my surprise, Malfoy slows too, glaring at me and looking ready to commit mass murder. "How's your balls?"
This enrages him to no end.
"Covered in mud," he spits out, as if the contact of my knee to his groin, even in attack, is repulsive.
"Sad your lips aren't?" I tease heartlessly, my mischievous smile dropping.
"Oh Blackwood, don't worry," Malfoy says, his face taking this false kind of innocence. "Wasn't personal. Like I said, you shouldn't walk around dressing like a slut. Figured you'd be easy."
"Dead wrong, weren't you?" I growl, getting angry now.
"Not really," Malfoy snaps, and we're both stopped in the middle of the corridor, practically squaring up. "I'll have to burn my fucking clothes after they were touched by filth like you."
Something comes over me and my wand is out before I can even care about stopping myself. The hex flies out as he's removing his own wand and he's not quick enough, soon falling to the ground. I've just switched his knees from the front to the back.
"BITCH!" Malfoy roars.
"EVANGELINE BLACKWOOD?!"
It's Mcgonagall's voice and she's furious. She takes one look at Malfoy, legs bent grotesquely on the floor of the corridor, and points an accusatory finger at me.
"Detention!"
---
Thankfully, my detention is with Hagrid.
Unfortunately, I am tasked with walking through the Forbidden Forest with him, finding escaped Blast Ended Skrewts.
This is what Hagrid tells me when I walk down to his hut at nightfall. And although I like Hagrid, and I like magical creatures, Blast Ended Skrewts nearly killed me during forth year. And we need to retrieve them from where they escaped into the forest, for use on his new forth year class.
"I mean, they won't be very hard to find, will they?" I ask Hagrid. "They blast explosives out of their arse."
Hagrid laughs. "Well o' course, Evangeline. But they aren't too keen on comin' back, ya see. Don' know why, but they keep blastin' holes in their enclosure!"
Maybe the Blast Ended Skrewts aren't too fond of the students, either.
"An' they're just babies, ya see? So they're pretty little now," Hagrid says idly, picking up a burlap sack and handing it to me. I'm already walking towards the pitch black Forbidden Forest when Hagrid calls out, "Ah, Filch! Excellen'! This is a three person job, this is!"
I turn and unexpectedly see Filch, walking side by side with the last person on Earth I would ever want to capture Blast Ended Skrewts with.
When Filch makes his leave, Hagrid hands Malfoy his own burlap sack, explaining the mission at hand.
"Fucking ridiculous," Malfoy growls, whipping the sack out of Hagrid's hand and walking past me to the edge of the forest. He stands with his arms crossed, back against a tree, and I avoid his eyes, seething.
"Evangeline, you take Fang. Malfoy, yer with me," Hagrid says, and I let out a breath. My face is hot in what must be rage, but I pat Fang on the head and start walking, whistling to the dog to follow.
Fang and I embark on our journey, my lighted wand held parralel to the mossy ground. We aren't delving very far into the forest tonight, as Hagrid is sure that the Skrewts could not have gone very far, young as they are. I find one just at the edge of the forest and wrestle it into the sack, grateful for the dragon skin gloves to keep my fingers from being blasted off. Fang barks when he finds another, a few yards away, and I struggle to scoop it into the sack. They're only about six inches long, but damn these fuckers are fast.
I don't know how many Skrewts are in my sack before I decide, with avid support from Fang, that it's time to head back.
I find Malfoy and Hagrid at the hut, a hilarious burn mark forming across Malfoy's collar. His hair is tussled hilariously, his arms crossed and his eyes murderous. He watches me walk up, glaring at me unabashedly.
"How many d'ya got Evan?" Hagrid asks.
"I dunno. Seven maybe?" I say, holding open the sack for Hagrid to count them all.
"Well. . .still four more in the forest then. You two wait here, won' be long. C'mon, Fang," Hagrid says before he makes his departure.
Hagrid is out of sight for not even ten seconds before Malfoy rounds on me.
"Since when are you friends with the oaf?" he scowls, his arms still crossed.
"Oaf?" I snap. "Hagrid's not an oaf." I remove my dragon skin gloves and inspect my hands for burns. I'm spotless. "You really don't pay attention do you? I'm in N.E.W.T. for Care of Magical Creatures."
"Why the fuck would you want to take that class?" Malfoy asks.
"Is this twenty questions or some shit? Merlin's sake," I say in an undertone, avoiding his eyes and picking at a hangnail. When I look up, his arms are no longer crossed but rather at his sides, and his eyebrows are raised. "I like magical creatures. Fuck off," I hiss.
"Course you do," he scoffs, looking up at the moon.
"What did you do to get detention, anyway?" I ask. "Bully a first year?"
Malfoy shrugs. "Something like that."
"Course you did."
This is when I make a fatal mistake.
I turn around, at the sound of a Skrewt trying to burn a hole through my bag, and in the ten seconds it takes me to absolutely scald my finger on the flaming fabric, Malfoy has closed the distance between us, gripped both my shoulders, whirled me around, and slammed me up against the wall of Hagrid's hut.
I just laugh.
"Oh?" I say with heat, as he has his hips pressed into mine and his dragonskin-clad hands are positively digging into my shoulders.
"Kiss me," Malfoy grunts. "Fucking. . .bitch."
He's breathing heavily, and I can almost see the resolve breaking in his eyes. He hates me, but he wants to kiss me. Such a turmoil.
"I'd hate for you to burn another outfit," I seethe.
"Shut the fuck up," he pants, suddenly placing his hands on my hips and pulling them forward onto his. He slams my ass back against the hut and I bite back my gasp.
"And here I thought it 'wasnt personal,'" I say with a lifeless chuckle. "Seems pretty fucking personal."
"Shut the fuck up and kiss me," he says, and there's a begging tone there.
"Oh?" I laugh, ignoring how breathless I sound. "Still wondering how I taste?"
"Oh yes," Malfoy says, a shaky laugh coming up, "and not just your lips. Well," he pauses, looking up at the sky. Then his thumb reaches up and touches ever so gently to my bottom lip. The dragon skin glove adds a strange sensation. "Not these ones, anyway."
I take in a sharp breath of sexual panic, but at the same moment, I'm resisting the urge to bite his fucking thumb off.
"Is that it?" I ask heatedly, still trying to wriggle out of his proximity. He does not let me. "I'm next on your list?"
"What list?" Malfoy asks, really confused, but staring down at his own gloved hands that are currently running up the sides of my ass.
"You've fucked every girl I know," I breathe out, leaning my head back against the hut and shutting my eyes. I hear a sharp intake of breath. "You seem to think I'm next."
"Maybe you are," Malfoy replies, and I can feel this breath on my collarbone. He inhales deeply, like he's trying to smell me.
"You'll never have me," I say weakly, because his nose is brushing under my ear.
In this moment, I can hear Hagrid coming back, the telltale sounds of Fang only yards away from where I stand, pressed flush against Draco Malfoy on the side of Hagrid's hut, in the dark.
"You know," Malfoy whispers on my skin, making it prickle and ignoring me completely. "Blaise tells me you're silent. He can't even get a moan out of you, nor a gasp, not even a single word of pleasure." His nose runs along my jawline. "But when I get a hold of you. . ."
"N-"
"I'll make you fucking sing."
And in the very moment the word sing leaves Malfoy's mouth, he completely abandons all notions of winning me. He just steals me, opening his mouth and bitting down hard onto the crook of my neck, sinking his teeth into my skin.
I don't make a fucking sound.
And Hagrid doesn't see a thing, because the moment he rounds the corner and is in my sight, Malfoy has walked back casually, wordlessly, leaving plenty of space between him and I and leaving me reeling against the wall.