A/N: I just… I don't have an explanation for this one.

For the Hogwarts Online prompt of the day: full set

the girl is detached
i'll look at the sun and i'll look in the mirror
i'm on the right track, yeah i'm onto a winner
- The Fear, Lily Allen

He's just a distraction, and it's all because he smiles like sunrise over Snowdonia.

She knows he's in love with that Evans girl – in lust, in infatuation… whatever. It doesn't bother her. This is isn't going anywhere, after all, because she's marrying that damn Malfoy boy with the too-long hair and the cruel mouth and the twisted beliefs.

But she's got a reputation to uphold, and she's had every single one of the good-looking boys in her year and she's not about to give up on getting her full score because Potter's one of them.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she thanks Merlin that Sirius Black is related to her, because Potter has been such a bloody effort she'd dread to think how hard it would be to wear her cousin down.

"You're beautiful," Potter murmurs sloppily into her ear, and his alcohol-scented breath drifts into her fair hair, tangling around her careful curls. "I think I love you."

"Shut up," she commands boredly, her hands around his neck small and dainty and somehow right-looking. "We're not here to talk."

Potter laughs against her neck, his broad shoulders trapping her against the wall of the broom cupboard as she smirks into the kiss he presses into her mouth, probably proud somewhere in the dim recesses of his brain that he's managed to get this far with Narcissa Black, who's known to only go after the most accomplished of boys.

She's sure he's imagining red hair and green eyes, but so long as he's still here and not listening to his conscience she's content. After all, she's hardly consumed with lust for him. Sure, he's good-looking, but he's also an insufferable prat and in love with a mudblood besides.

She shudders delicately as she imagines how tainted she'd be right now if Potter had had the mudblood already, and thanks her stars that Evans is too much of a prude to succumb to Potter's blandishments.

"Why me, Black?" Potter inquires between messy kisses, his hands roaming all over her body in a way that would probably make her mother pass out. "Why me, and why now?"

She draws back to study his face thoughtfully, her blue eyes very dark in the dimness of the cupboard as he gazes down at her. His eyes are surprisingly focused, and she realises that maybe he's not as drunk as she'd thought.

"Does it matter?" she asks snappily, her hair shifting as she tosses it back. His eyes follow the flash of gold as her curls catch the torchlight, and she smiles smugly and slides her small body right up against his.

He shrugs and kisses her again, his hands sliding up under the material of her dress, and Narcissa feels the spike of satisfaction that shoots through her as he moans hungrily into the kiss.

She doesn't ever plan on telling him (or anyone) that, actually, it does matter. It matters because she's Narcissa Black and she's beautiful and he has a smile that makes her feel like her insides are all switching places with each other, and she's not the sort of girl who ignores a smile like that.

So she takes him and she wants to break him, but he's got Evans and his stupid friends and, when she sees him at breakfast the next morning, he avoids her gaze firmly and absolutely. She grins to herself as she takes her seat next to Malfoy, her skirt riding up and showing off the tops of her stockings and making a slow red tinge creep along the Lestrange boy's neck as he catches sight of a strip of pale, bare skin.

"I've been hearing rumours about you and Potter," Syrinx Greengrass remarks with a smirk, her eyes waiting for some sort of reaction from Narcissa. "Although why you'd waste your time with that idiot is beyond me."

"And why you'd waste your time listening to those sorts of rumours is beyond me," Narcissa replies sweetly, abandoning her breakfast and rising to her feet to leave. "I'll see you in Charms, Lucius."

She passes Potter and his idiotic friends on her way out of the hall, and lets her fingers brush up his arm in such a way that Evans can see but the Slytherin table can't.

"Sleep well, Potter?" she inquires in a low voice, a smirk curving the corners of her lips upwards. "I certainly did."

He swallows, and Narcissa feels a stab of… something… as he smiles sheepishly over at Evans, who turns from him with an upturned nose of disgust.

Narcissa is still laughing to herself to disguise the jealousy as she leaves the hall and starts up the stairs to Charms.

A/N: please don't favourite without reviewing, thank you.