I am almost done the next chapter of TCS. It should be up some time during the next week. Sorry for the wait. Please R&R- this is my first Harry Potter fanfic, first challenge responded to and the first romance fic I've written. Let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions. I may also be looking to secure a Beta (Naruto and HP) in the near future. If you know of any that may be interested, please let me know. I am currently searching the Beta database, but haven't had any luck. Thank you very much!
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CHAINED TO YOU (Savage Garden) OR HARRY POTTER (JK Rowling). I DO NOT INTEND TO MAKE MONEY WITH THIS. aLL RECOGNIZABLE CHARACTERS/PLACES/LYRICS BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS.
We were standing all alone
"Don't you dare drop that in," I glared at the bane of my existence. Dark, wind-tousled hair, emerald eyes, lithe form, and that stupidly bewildered expression that plastered his idiotic face.
The arrogant Gryffindor took a moment to process my words, seriously- how idiotic can one person be? I watched calmly, hiding my amusement, while Potter's face flicked through a myriad of emotions. Bewildered, thoughtful, understanding, and anger.
"Why not?" he spat.
"Are you illiterate? I guess consorting with blood traitors and Mudbloods is finally taking its toll on your brain."
"Fuck you, Malfoy."
He glared at me, a slightly put-out expression lingering on his lips. I could almost call it a pout.
"They're volatile, Potter," I looked at him expectantly. He blinked at me, clueless as ever. "If you had dropped that in both the potion and the cauldron would have exploded. As we have not yet had any explosions this class, I figured we might as well keep up the trend."
You were leaning in to speak to me
Acting like a mover shaker,
Dancing to Madonna
He gave a huff and turned back to his work. I watched while he laid out supplies and began cutting them with a ferocity that made me believe he was envisioning my face on each to-be-cut object. I narrowed my eyes, there was something more to what he was doing. There seemed to be a particular rhythm he moved in, gently swaying to unheard music.
"Well couldn't you have just said that?" he asked quietly, standing directly in front of me. When had he moved? No matter, Potter was standing directly in front of me, gazing at me speculatively. I looked down a moment, noting how close we were- squished, facing each other between a workbench and our cauldron. Sighing I swept my eyes back up to his. Determined eyes pierced into mine, delicately questioning, despite the rage still blustering within their depths. I could feel his breath on my lips he was standing so close. Too close.
"Apparently not." I glared at him still. Why, oh why had I not hexed him to oblivion yet? I have no idea what came over Severus when he decided to place us together. He himself knows not to mix oil and water, so why force the two of us to work together? It was MAD- mutually assured destruction.
"Longbottom, NO!" In that one instant my life became impossibly complicated as the explosion of Longbottom's cauldron caused our own cauldron to slam into Potter's back, consequently propelling him into me. In that instant, before contact, as I realised what was about to happen I couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the entire situation. Longbottom must have done exactly what Potter would have done if I hadn't have stopped him.
Then you kissed me
And I think about it all the time
What happened then is rather predictable. However, rest assured that it was nothing romantic.
Our mouths smashed into each other. Potter's teeth clashed against mine. I could taste blood in my mouth, I decided it was my own as a throbbing pain made itself known on my upper lip. We slammed into the floor, Potter on top, my back thrummed with pain as my spine took both our weights. Our lips were still connected as we both lay, trembling, on the ground, waiting for our wits to return to us. I finally groaned which served as some kind of alarm for Potter to wake up. He rose, leaning on his elbows over me. We gazed at each other for a few moments, still gathering our senses, before Potter leaned to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood. My blood, I realized as I noticed he had no wounds.
He propelled himself upward. So quickly in fact that I wondered if he somehow used magic to levitate himself. I sat up slowly. My head bloody well hurt! I raised my hand, withholding a wince, to assess the damage. I focused back on the classroom. Potter was standing as far away from me as possible, surrounded by his horrified scum-ridden friends. Severus was staring at me, an almost mortified expression on his face. The silence in the room almost deafened me. I realized that the entire class had witnessed this event. Knowing the Hogwarts rumour mill intimately (courtesy of Pansy), I knew that within five minutes of class ending that the entire school would be subject to rumours of Potter's and my own secret love affair that 'finally extended to the classroom.'
Fuck my life. I can't get the bloody kiss out of my head. I keep thinking about it. Although it was far from perfection, my warped mind seems to think that's exactly what it was- the perfect first kiss. It's been two weeks. I watch as Potter struts down the hallway towards Transfiguration, surrounded by his dirty friends. I find my gaze lingering on him as he passes me, glaring the whole while. I will not turn my head. I will not turn my head. My mantra. Bloody hell, may as well be my motto these days. I turn my head in time to see the back of him disappear into the classroom. I turn back to walk to History of Magic, images of Potter dancing through my mind. Fuck my life.