Summary: It started out as just a game of charades. They'd show up in school for their final year at Hogwarts as a couple. She wanted to show her friends that she was more than just a bookworm and who would be better to help her out than the one boy in school she knew her friends hated with a passion? Little did they know that tempting fate was far too dangerous than playing with exploding snap cards.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately none of the Harry Potter characters are mine. I just borrowed them from JK Rowling. But the plot idea was mine so don't sue me for that!!!
PhoenixRae's Notes: This is the first part of my Just a Game trilogy that I'm writing. Hope you like this one. I don't know where I got the idea from, all I know is that I wanted to write so here's the first part. ENJOY!
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
I. Their Night
In the dead of the night two bodies moved as one. Thrusting; receiving; opening. Moans of undulated desire hushed by the silencing charm cast in the empty classroom. Their coming together was inevitable; they'd been dancing around the issue for months—even years if they thought hard about it, but neither one of them acted on that building attraction they had for one another. It was just a game after all. A game neither of them took seriously, until fate intervened and made them realize they were already in too deep in the game to ignore the hazards their so-called meaningless flirtation could cause.
A pair of slender, silky smooth legs wrapped around a perfectly trimmed torso, just adding enough pressure to urge him to bury himself deeper into her moist crevice. Their mingled moans echoed around the room. Seven years of repressed attraction and finally they've come together.
Tonight was their night to become one
Tonight was their only night to be as one.
By daylight they would retreat to that cold comfort they'd built for themselves. Their masks would be put back on and none of what transpired between them on this very eve would be visible. They'd be back to playing the game they easily agreed on at the end of the previous school year.
They agreed to this game of charade to throw her friends off. They'd been ignoring her for the past few years and she has had enough of it. She wanted them to see that was human too, with feelings and yearnings. They thought she was just the typical bookworm who often buried her nose in books and studied day and night, three hundred and sixty-five days a year. But they were wrong. They were so very wrong.
He sensed her feeling of detachment when he found her all by herself in one of the train compartments minus her two bodyguards. She was looking out the window and was lost. He didn't want to intrude; he should've left her alone that day, but something else inside him made him stay and sat across from her in the compartment.
"I wonder what could a filthy mudblood like you could be thinking about," he mused, crossing his leg over the other and slouched down in his seat.
She tore her chocolate brown eyes from the passing scenery outside and glared at him, "What do you want, ferret boy?"
"What makes you think I want something from you, mudblood?" he taunted.
She raised an eyebrow. "The day you'd want something from me would be the day I keeled over and died," she deadpanned.
He chuckled and made himself even more comfortable in his seat, his grey eyes held her brown ones. He raised an eyebrow and shook his mop of platinum blond hair slicked neatly back and pressed against his scalp. It was his trademark hairstyle that she didn't approve of, but the rest of the student population at Hogwarts seemed to like it on him.
"You're a feisty one, aren't you?" he mocked. "I never pegged you to be feisty. I always thought it was the youngest weasel who was feisty."
"Maybe she rubbed off on me," she snapped, sitting back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be harassing somebody else?"
"Nobody to harass anymore," he replied flippantly and with a slight shrug of his shoulder.
She didn't believe that. She knew he'd find someone to harass one way or the other.
"Whatever," she rolled her eyes skyward and looked out the window again. She thought he'd leave her alone then, but she was wrong.
He remained in the compartment with her. The silence that stood between them was deafening, and she didn't like to be watched!
"You better look somewhere else, Malfoy, before I poke your eyes out," she threatened when she could no longer stand his silent scrutiny of her.
"You've changed, Granger," he noted.
She raised an eyebrow. Did he just give her some sort of backhanded compliment?
"You must be hallucinating, Malfoy," she shoved his compliment—or comment, whichever—aside and continued looking at the passing scenery.
"If I am then it must be a helluva good hallucination because for the first time in six years you managed to tame that ruckus you called hair," he scoffed.
"If you're trying to get a rise out of me, Malfoy, you're just wasting your time and breath," she warned him lazily. "I'm already immune to your insults," she tore her gaze from the view outside the window and met his gaze. "You need to find somebody else to torment and insult."
"Whoa, Granger, why the bitchy remarks and nasty attitude? PMS-ing again?"
"And what would you now about PMS, hm?"
"I've been around girls a lot to know what they're like when their period's about to make an appearance," he answered unperturbed.
"And just because I'm bitchy and crabby you already assumed that I'm having PMS?" she questioned.
"Isn't that obvious?" he challenged.
"Can't a person just be plain ol' bitchy and crabby without having to be suffering from PMS?"
"Oh come off it, Granger! You're having PMS and you damn well know it!" he insisted.
"Then I'm on a permanent PMS ride then because I'm always bitchy and crabby," she answered haughtily.
He raised an eyebrow. That was an unusual side of her that he witnessed. Normally she'd be storming out of the room by then and never looked back, but she remained where she was butting-heads with him. He knew then that something was wrong. In as much as he was impressed that she finally grew a pair, he was also intrigued as to why her two comrades have yet to make an appearance.
"Where's Potty and Weasel? Shouldn't they be joining you by now?" he asked, his grey eyes darting between the girl before him and the open door.
"They're too busy living and having a life of their own to remember that I'm still alive," she replied tartly.
"Am I sensing trouble in paradise, hm?" he looked bemused. Did the trio have a fight and Granger was ganged-up upon by Potter and Weasley?
"I see," he nodded, a sly grin hovering on his lips. "The Amazing Trio's legacy finally coming to an end, eh?" he mocked.
"Shut-up!" she hissed.
He struck a raw nerve. He chuckled triumphantly and uncrossed his legs. He leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"You know, Granger, I wouldn't feel sorry for myself if I were in you position."
She chose to ignore him. Averting her gaze she concentrated on the view outside the window once again, but he wouldn't take the hint. He went on egging her, ridiculing her rapidly decapitating relationship with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, and making snide remarks about the two's absence. Finally she has had enough and told him to shut it or she'd pull his tongue out and shove it up where the sun doesn't shine.
He had to admit he was shocked to hear those words slip out of her of luscious lips. Hell, he didn't even realize he found her lips lusciously captivating until then! She had fire in her, a fire that when stoked, would burst into bright flames and shock the whole world.
He became to her what he told himself he'd never do to the likes of her.
He became her friend.
He knew she was seething with unspoken anger. She was frustrated and needed to vent. He was bored and needed some entertainment—or so he thought. In the end he found himself concocting a plan with a mudblood on how to get back on two of his mortal nemesis.
That had been made a year ago to the day, and by tomorrow it would all be over.
One year of pretence. A whole year of seeing nobody else but each other. A full year of driving Harry Potter and Ron Weasley insane because one of the most plain girls in Gryffindor house turned out to be a magnificent swan. He became the envy of most guys in school. He was loathed by his housemates. His father nearly disowned him, but there was nothing more that Lucius Malfoy could do. He was his own man and he could make any girl from here to Timbuktu his woman.
It was suppose to be just pretence—nothing serious, nothing candid—just one hundred percent pure pretence. Little did he know that sometime during the middle of the year that he'd fall for her; and she didn't bet on falling for him too.
Now they were locked in an empty classroom in the dead of the night, moaning and loving one another like there was no tomorrow. And there wasn't going to be any tomorrow for them. They would only have this night to have and to hold one another; to love and promise unspoken promises that would never leave this quiet, empty room.
He began moving against her, slamming his body harder and harder into her. Picking up the pace, he started to move faster, their hitched breaths mingled and echoed. He laced his fingers with hers, pulling her arm up over her head and urging her to look at him.
Their eyes met and locked. Brown and Grey. Both filled with love, but no words of love were spoken. And he kept on moving in and out of her, thrusting himself to the hilt before pulling out to do it all over again. Her legs around his torso tightened, her fingers intertwined with his crushed his.
The words were forming in their minds. Their mouths slightly opened, ready to spill their hearts desire, but before neither one of them could utter those three words out loud, he swooped his head down and captured her lips in a mouth-crushing kiss, silencing both their scream as their climaxed surged through their bodies.
Half spent and half exhilarated, he fell on top of her, burying his face between her shoulder blades. Their rugged breathing blended until they began breathing as one.
A few seconds had passed before he rolled off her. He spread his arms wide and she rolled into his open arms. He closed his grey eyes in agony as his arm automatically wrapped around the small, delicate body of the woman he just loved and would continue on loving even after this night was.
She rested her head on his chest. She heard the uneven beating of his heart. Taking a deep breath she placed her hand, palm down, on his chest where she knew his heart lay. What they just had…what she just experienced…it was beyond what she expected.
Just a game…the phrase formed a foul taste in her mouth. It was never just a game between them. Not anymore, anyway. Since that day on the train twelve months ago, when he stepped in to the compartment she grabbed for herself because her two so-called best friends ditched her, she knew their lives would never be the same—ever.
When he offered her his assistance at showing Harry and Ron what they were missing, she didn't bother thinking twice about it. She thought it would be a brilliant idea of a Slytherin—her two best friend's loathed Slytherin—helped her garner some attention, never did it enter her mind that she would be playing with her heart on the line as well.
In the dead of the night two bodies merged as one. Both lost in their own thoughts. Both wanting more and yet were too afraid to voice it out. In the dead of the night an unspoken word of love was uttered, but none were heard. In the dead of the night two bodies clung to one another with all their might, savouring the remaining few hours before they part for the last time and never to see each other ever again…
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
~*~ End ~*~
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
A/N: Please review & let me know what you think. Thanks!