The Strongest Emotion.

"Do you remember the first time? In just three minutes you were mine.
Don't think it was the last. So I'll climb on top and I'll never stop
Till I make you forget who you are…
…And just feel."
-Davey Havok, Blaqk Audio, Between Breaths.

My entire life I was lead to believe that love was the most powerful thing there was- and why shouldn't I? It's what everyone from the beginning of time always preached; mothers to daughters, friends amongst friends, and even all the best books and fairy tales constantly place morals throughout chapters alluding to the power of true love and ending with how true love conquers all.

There is supposed to be that one boy that fiercely cares for you; the one that can rise up against all odds and take you away from all that harms or troubles you and then there is some sort of happily-ever-after or a bright finale.

In my case, that one boy is just the opposite.

If Draco Malfoy was part of an enchanted fable, he would undoubtedly be the Dark Prince; the haughty, spoilt, cruel one who always got his way- which was mostly by hurting other people. He was bred and raised with loathing in his heart and I should have known that the darkness inside him stretched much farther and sunk much deeper than I ever could have guessed.

Sometimes I think he hates me the most; more than anything else in the world- even more than his natural-born enemy Harry or Ron and his family, despite their long, historic rivalry- and even more than any other Muggleborn witch or wizard in our world, for that matter. On those rarest of occasions when he would actually deign to look at me, his eyes burned so intensely dark that I always looked away first.

I am everything he has been taught to despise- the complete embodiment of it all- and it makes me wonder: is he any better or worse than me just because I know deep-down in my heart that he has been brain-washed? After all, I was never brought up to hate anyone or programmed to believe I was better than someone because of my birth or something as trivial as blood-status.

The irony of it all is that his hatred of me should make me simply detest him in return, but I did not. Really, I never hated anyone except maybe Rita Skeeter, after she singled me out in my fourth year with her petty journalism. But I didn't hate Draco; I desperately wanted to but I merely could not.

However, whenever I did come across him dark, unnamed feelings would swell up inside me that robbed me of my common sense, compassion, and any morals I thought I stood for. If there was a little bit of good in everyone, the exemption to that rule was Draco Malfoy. Even his name was a warning and implied danger.

I tried to despise him, glaring back at him as strongly as he did me, but even I was rendered desolate when I would back down first and let him achieve victory over me. He tormented me enough throughout my early school years to scar me emotionally and make me fear one day bringing up my own children in the Wizarding World one day…

And yet…

…The very first time he grabbed me roughly and trapped me to the shelves of books in the Restricted Section of the Library in our sixth year with his own body, my mind went wholly blank and I submitted almost blindly to him.

No one had ever simultaneously loathed and desired me at the same time like he did before, and the feeling was new if not a little intimidating. I just stood there; face pressed against the spines of the dark tomes and volumes, and let him take what he wanted.

I suppose it was shock that just kept me still while his hands roamed freely over me; I just could not process or believe that he, Draco the Slytherin bloody Prefect Malfoy, was touching me and he wanted to.

After feeling my knickers tear and hearing the unmistakable sound of a zipper I cried out and he muffled the sound with his hand, drawing close to my ear to cruelly mutter, "Give me your hatred, Mudblood," and the words inflamed everything inside me to my core.

If he wanted my abhorrence, I would give it to him in plenty. I vowed to do as he said, but I lacked the experience; I didn't fully understand what he meant at the time.

So drawing my own meaning, I attempted to fight him. Bringing my elbow back I struck him somewhere in his chest, I think, and I felt his presence stagger back a bit. I made for the doorway exiting the Restricted Section and almost reached it before I felt his arms come around me to drag me to the ground with him. He landed on his knees over me, straddling my thighs. I tried kicking him from on top of me, hoping the motion would inch me backwards but he spread his legs further and effectively pinned my legs to the ground. I had failed.

He tore open my blouse, the buttons protesting weakly before they gave in to the vicious tug and my shirt was left hanging open, revealing my chest to him. He had paused for a moment while he took in the sight of my breasts swathed in black cotton and I took the opportunity to strike him.

My hand soared across his cheek, and the force turned his head to the side as the smacking sound seemed to resound through the library, or at least it echoed in my mind, as I wondered why I really just hit him for the second time in my life.

And how had no one managed to notice us yet?

When he swiveled his head back to face me his eyes had a murderous glow to them above the pink mark rapidly coloring on his cheek. My palm tingled from the force of the slap and I wondered if I should have regretted what I had done.

I didn't.

Draco surged forward and ripped my brassiere in half right down the middle. Before I could even react, he had flattened me to the ground with his body, clenched my upper arms to my side so I could not fight him anymore, and his mouth bent to attach to one of my nipples. I gasped heavily, the incredibly new sensation taking my body by storm and causing all of my walls of resolve to crumble, since they were not very sturdy in the first place.

The hands that had hastily flown to his head with the intention to push him away instead clutched his hair and my nails dug into and scraped his scalp. He relentlessly licked and sucked at the fleshy peak and ended with a sharp bite which issued a whine from my throat before he moved to the other and I squirmed underneath him.

Thinking back on it, I believed that I simply wasn't processing anything else that was happening to or around me. I didn't think about who was doing things to my body, I didn't think about where we were, and I certainly didn't think about what the consequences of my actions would be. Draco managed to reduce me to a creature that lived for basic desires, and even that thought didn't bother me in that moment.

Somehow, he had managed to free his cock from his straining trousers while he very nearly worshipped my chest and I could feel it edging closer. I was too far gone to register anything but the pleasure radiating throughout my body and the rapidly pooling wetness between my legs.

When he finally pulled back from me his lips were dark pink and swollen. His breath blew cold air onto my chest and watched in satisfaction as they tightened and reached for him, even as I started twisting away. My head was starting to clear now that he wasn't being so attentive.

"Please…" It was the first word I had spoken since this started and I meant to beg him to stop, to let me go; but his hand was creeping up my thigh and entering my body and I shuddered as I caught the look of sheer bliss on his face when his fingers were engulfed in my center.

He was exploring my insides deliciously and I was quickly growing delirious again. "Why… what are you…" I was mumbling incoherently, fixating on the rhythmic motion he was creating so effortlessly. Then he suddenly stopped, even while his fingers were still deeply imbedded in me and leaned over me.

I struggled to keep my eyes open, head lolling against the floor uselessly.

"I can feel it… I can feel your virginity," he rasped and his voice husky was strangely quiet. I parted my mouth to respond, but he was already spreading my legs wider and placing himself by my entrance eagerly.

My fingers dug into the flesh of his arms through his robes; even I didn't know whether I was pushing him away or encouraging him.

His grey eyes were so dark they were nearly black with lust and he gripped my hips so hard his nails dug into my flesh. "Beg me for it… Beg me to take it from you…" his gravelly whisper sent electric currents shooting up and down my spine.

I could do naught but oblige him, pleading him frantically to end this terrifyingly sinful pleasure.

"P-please… do it, just do it-"

And he did just that, tearing into my body painfully and relentlessly, covering my mouth to muffle the traitorous moans that escaped me. It hurt, oh it was so aching at first- but it also felt too beguilingly right.

When did we begin to crave this feeling? How did it begin?

I could remember if only he would stop stroking that sensitive spot on the back of my neck. But in this state, I simply cannot care. I don't recall anything; my name or his, who I am supposed to be, and the fact I am betraying everyone when I am with him.

In the deserted Library he is the embodiment of what he really is; his grey eyes don't look quite human anymore, they are savage and abandoned. His features pulled back into a dangerous grin remind me only of a dragon, and it is so fitting.

He is a pure, pale dragon and I am only his dirty, sacrificial maiden, helpless to do anything but let him devour me.

I wish I could fight him, but I had tried once and obviously failed. He can be gentle, as much as is possible being who he is and who I am. But his violent side was not something I wanted to get more acquainted with.

No, I simply tired of fighting. I gave in, went against my nature and surrendered to the feelings I know deep, deep down I won't ever feel with anyone else, ever again. Nor would I want to, I came to understand fearfully.

But my trepidation doesn't stop his questing hands or his lashing tongue. I've become paralyzed when I'm around him and my body reacts when my mind loses to the darkness within me, the thing he created.

When it is over I can only recover alone, shivering as I hear the unmistakable zip of his trousers and the click of his boots as he walks away.

The state of being I carry these days is somber at best. I hate what he has done to me, all the things he turned me into. I'm not really a Gryffindor anymore, for my house mates would never succumb to what I have. I have become a liar, dodging my very best friends and hiding in the library. I lose sleep, appetite, and miss assignments.

I'm not who I once was, and that is the scariest thing of all.

People are starting to notice the changes I've had; professors and peers alike. Even Professor McGonagall pulled me into her office one day in an attempt to discover what was wrong with me, but I pacified her with claims of too many long hours studying. I wonder if Draco has changed and if people think the same thing when they look at him.

I hope so. I hope to God he is as miserable as I am, but how could that be? He has no bloody conscience; I've seen enough evidence to that fact. He is a selfish, arrogant, Pureblood supremacist and fucking a Mudblood will not change that.

Or will it? I can't remember how many times our bodies brushed or collided in the years before but every time was followed by a snarl or a scoff as he brushed himself of my 'filth.' I repulsed him, or at least there was once a time when I used to.

As much as I despised thinking about it, it is just silly to think dirt can be transferred that way, like one soul to another. Do I still revolt him? Maybe, but not in the same way for when his hands roam my body they seek out every inch of me. When his teeth sink into me and I know he tastes my blood he only licks his lips and moves in for another piece of me.

It has been six long months and the year is nearly over. I know I cannot keep giving in to him, I've known for weeks, but something else is wrong.

He is up to something, and I have a feeling it has to do with the Headmaster. Harry suspects he is acting on orders and all the coincidences- Katie Bell, the poisoned drink- it's too much for m to ignore. I start following him and discover he keeps lingering by the Room of Requirement but I can't ever catch him quick enough.

It really truly worries me that he could really be a Death Eater, not just wearing the mark because his father is in prison. But it was the only thing that made any sense- I could see the circles under his eyes, and they are shifty, skittish. With school coming to a close soon, I felt a dark cloud hanging over Hogwarts that created a sense of impending... something, but I wasn't sure what.

Harry had left the school with the Headmaster so I borrowed the Marauder's Map and decided to do something about it rather than sit in my common room brooding over it.

After muttering that I was up to no good, I watched the map form the layout of the school and I searched for Draco Malfoy.

Finally I found him, leaving his common room and I rushed to catch him. Once again he was heading towards the Room of Requirement. I hurried down the corridors, having to jump off one of the staircases to land on the seventh floor.

I landed awkwardly on my ankle but I kept going before he vanished into the room. I managed to catch the door in time with the end of my wand, but unfortunately Draco noticed me and pulled me into the room behind him.

He reacted rapidly with wand in hand, going into a dueling stance, but relaxed slightly when he recognized it was only me.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded, not lowering his arm.

I stared down the tip. "I should ask the same of you. Why do you keep sneaking around and hiding in here?"

His eyes narrow into slits as he bites out at me, "Been following me, Mudblood? How touching."

Draco takes a few steps and I try to put more distance between us but I had never got far into the room anyway and my back already hit the wall. I couldn't let him have that advantage so I kept trying to inch away, closer to the door.

Smirking, he advances slowly like the reptile of his house and suddenly I wonder just what I was hoping to accomplish by following him here. He notices where I'm heading and he magically locks and wards the door with a wave of his wand.

"I've told you not to get attached just because I fuck you when I'm bored," he reminded me cruelly, but I knew he was lying. We did not just have sex when he was bored; he even went so far as to actively seek me out at times when I refused him. "Do you think you'll be able to stop me? Or maybe convince me that I have some goodness deep inside my black heart?" He laughed mirthlessly and my face burned. How could I have ever let someone like him touch me?

Gathering my courage, I pushed off the wall, raising my own wand just inches from his. "I don't feel anything for you, Malfoy, except hatred. I know that you've been up to something but I suggest you go back to your dormitory before I'm forced to make you."

My words seemed to affect him for a split second, before his eyes shone with wild laugher. "Stupid little Mudblood playing with wizard's toys. You know what?" I watched as he slipped his wand into his pocket. "I don't need magic to take care of you; I can do it the filthy Muggle way."

His momentary act of lowering his defense caught me off guard and I should have known better. I tried to stun him but I couldn't even say the whole word 'Stupefy!' before he had me.

One hand crushed the bones of my wrist until I cried out painfully, dropping my wand with a resounding clink on the stone floor. He kicked it away and grabbed my other wrist, slamming me back into the wall as he was so adept at recently.

No! I struggled both internally and outwardly that I was not so stupidly weak- I couldn't be. I twisted against him, kicking out at him and trying to push him off with my body but I was not as strong as he and now we both knew it.

He was grinning triumphantly at me, pushing back against me with the lower half of his body.

"You're pathetic, Granger," he hissed at me and I see his eyes hooding, darkening and my lower stomach clenches. I know that look in his eye too well and I renewed my attempts to break free, but that was all they were; attempts.

He panted lightly as I heaved for air and he stepped in closer, effectively trapping me between him and the wall. I cannot let this happen again; after the last time I swore to myself on my friendship with Ron and Harry that I would not do this.

"Don't-"

"Shut up."

I felt him hardening against me and despite myself a whimper escaped me. My determination tried to slip away from me but I held on futilely. Urging my muscles to overpower him, I fought with all my might but I was losing.

I wanted to scream when I saw him lowering his head toward mine, but it seemed like my body was instinctively following his order and I couldn't find my voice.

His teeth abused the skin of my throat and his tongue soothed in its wake, reducing me to a puddle instantly. But I felt the map protruding in my pocket and more thoughts of my closest friends and what they would say if they saw me like this unclouded my head.

"Stop, Malfoy, get away from me," I seethed, trying to pry his fingers away.

This time his eyes flashed with anger as he glared down at me vilely. "What, Mudblood, are you too good for me now? I don't recall you protesting when I took you in the classroom the other night." I felt my face burn and he chuckled in a sinister way and reminded me, "No, quite the opposite. I also seem to recall you begging me to take your virginity in the Restricted Section that first time, didn't you? Didn't you?"

When I didn't respond one of his hands flew to my throat, squeezing my windpipe as my nails clawed at his arm. I managed to wheeze, "Y-yes…" through his strong grip.

He sneered at me down the length his pointed nose, almost in consideration. Then his lips slid into a smirk as he fumbled with his trousers and I softly moaned against his palm. I suffered defeat in this battle, broke my own promise. He grabbed under my knees, hooking my legs around his waist securely and pushed me up further until he was satisfied. Tears were already rolling down my face from pure shame and disappointment. So weak, so pitiful, so...

"Mudblood whore," he murmured.

A whore; yes, that's what I was, I thought to myself as he tossed my knickers aside so he could push into me as he brought me down on him. A slut was fitting for me because it still felt so impossibly good, and I was wet for him even after he threatened me and called me worthless.

He groans as he is fully enveloped in my heat and grabs a fistful of my hair to pull while the other hand digs into my hip to support my weight against the wall so he can thrust freely. There isn't a doubt in my mind that he wants me; though he'd never admit it. This proves it doesn't it?

But the question was: why did I want Draco wanting me? Was it solely for feeling guilty about my wanting of him? Well I never would have if...

I can't think anymore, oh God; he's really taking everything out on me. I cry out every time he lowers my body onto his cock, and this must be what he wants to hear for he seems to be reveling in every sound I make, his half smirk fading slowly on his contorting, concentrated face.

Every time he hits the back of my cunt I feel myself die a little more.

"Go on, Granger," he pants, and pauses to drag his teeth across my exposed clavicle. "Beg me to finish you, to blow inside you. I want to hear you scream it."

His words embarrass but excite me, I can't deny it and I simply tell myself if I do what he says it'll be over quicker- I'm not doing it for him.

"Make me come, please, please let me, Draco, please," I gasped out, finally grabbing him for support as he tore into me faster, my head bouncing against the wall on every jagged thrust.

At once he withdrew from me, stepping aside and I promptly fell forward landing hard on my knees but managing to catch myself on the palms of my hands. Just when I thought he left me wanting out of spite he was behind me and grabbed my waist as he reclaimed my body, renewing my breathy, escalating moans.

This was his most favored position, I learned long ago, and I was quickly growing to like it too. The angle made his member rub my inner walls so snugly we were both in unpolluted heaven. I could tell by his rough growls he is close and I certainly was too the way he was grinding against me every time he drove his hips.

I was screaming out to him, but with no knowledge of what I was saying until I felt him pressing down on me, so I dropped my head and as he pressed my cheek into the unforgiving cold of the floor and felt his hot breath fanning my cheek. He moves his hand from my neck to squeeze my breast harshly through my sweater and I know what he's telling me without even having to decipher it through my buzzing ears.

My stomach flutters from all the sensations, the sharp pulls at my hair, scraping manicured nails down my back and arms, but mostly the euphoric rhythm between my legs as I cry out, "Please- oh, oh Draco, please come inside me, oh-oh-"

He groaned loudly, grabbing the back of my neck once more while his other hand clenched around my waist as he renewed his vigor.

I try to catch a glimpse of his piercing grey eyes from the floor as I utter the words that I know will completely unravel us both.

"Come in your Mudblood whore."

The whispered words have the desired effect and were the only thing he needed to hear as he finally shuddered and bit down on my shoulder to stifle his cry. His climax with his sporadic thrusting hit that sweet spot inside me and the scream I was already issuing from his bite renewed into a breathy, keening sound as my body quivered with uncontrollable spasms.

And then we came to the hardest part of all. His control was gathering again as he breathed deeply above me. I ached everywhere, I realized, and was not looking forward to moving and was half-deliriously glad when he rose and said a binding spell, my hands and ankles coming together and wrapped by thin dark rope.

I should have expected this.

"Do you have any idea how satisfying it is to see you this way?" He asked from behind me and his voice was low and honest, not mocking as it should have been. There was a thick veil of renewed desire laden in his voice and I fought not to shiver.

"No, why don't you tell me, Malfoy?" I drawled, making my voice stronger than I felt.

"So its Malfoy again, is it?"

My face burned against the floor. I don't know why his given name slips out during sex, it just happens. I say nothing.

He is laughing again and I jump reflexively when I feel his finger trace up my slit and swirl around my entrance. I can just see our mixed fluids on his finger out of my peripherals and I wonder what he's thinking. But he stops everything, and redresses me with a spell as he sighs, and it almost sounds longing, regretful. "Enjoy the show, Granger, because it's too late now."

I want to ask him what he means, find out what was too late, but he continued, "You really shouldn't have followed me tonight."

"What are you-"

But he starts walking away and I twist to see him, dragging my body around like a worm in the dirt.

There's a large cupboard he's staring down, his grey eyes at the same time determined and a little fearful. I've known him for almost seven years, it scares me how much I know him without really knowing anything at all.

He mumbled a few words I couldn't hear from my position on the floor and the large cabinet shook. The hardwood seemed to rock from the inside though Draco hadn't touched it. A trickle of fear rolls down my spine as my brain contemplates all manner of things that can be hiding within.

He opens the door with a click and steps back. I can only watch in horror as first Bellatrix Lestrange, Greyback the werewolf, and another Death Eater I cannot place emerged. Whatever foul beast I had been expecting seemed tame in comparison. Bellatrix spotted me instantly as she brushed off her robes.

"Looks like Draco brought us a little nibble," she crooned, her eyes gleaming in a sickening way. "What a thoughtful nephew."

I couldn't believe her words. Speaking of me like... like an afternoon snack, and at her words the other Death Eaters perked with interest. I looked pleadingly over at Draco but he was watching the others anxiously, not paying any attention to me as he fidgeted with his green and silver tie.

Greyback on the other hand was much too fixated on me, leering and raking his eyes over my body while grinning wolfishly. I could feel myself trembling, cursing myself for following Draco; for once again letting curiosity get the better of me, and for being a foolish Gryffindor thinking I could handle any situation.

With horror, I realized no one even knew where I was and the Marauder's Map was still in my pocket, so Harry and Ron would not know where to find me if something were to happen…

Panicking at my own dark thoughts, I fought off tears as I tried to locate my wand. Perhaps if I could get to it I could escape intact…

The delicate Vinewood wand lay just a few feet away from me but still far out of reach.

The Death Eaters were advancing on me and I inched away desperately, rolling into the wall of the room but landing on my wand. I watched their impending approach with mounting fear, there was something very different about facing a group of Death Eaters with my friends than alone in a room where Aurors were not on their way to rescue me.

I struggled to grip my wand behind my back, if I could only hold it I could free myself- but they were already near and if they discovered my wand they would most certainly take it.

"There is something familiar about this one. Isn't this that Mudblood who was at the Department of Mysteries last year?" Bellatrix turned to ask Draco thoughtfully. Her aloof question only filled me with more worry that she had actually recognized me.

I stared at Draco importunately, praying he would not reveal me to her and confirm her suspicions. But the blonde wizard looked at me with an impassive expression sliding onto his face as he replied, "Yes, Aunt Bella."

The female Death Eater cackled with delight as she whipped around to face me. "I knew it! I just knew there was something about you, you no-good Mudblood! Of course, you're Potter's little friend. How ever did you manage to get her here, Draco?"

"She followed me, seemed to think I was up to something," he answered, eyes still boring into mine with no emotion. I lamented how he could make me feel so much pleasure in one instant and so much anguish in the next.

It was all so unfair.

"Well, we can't have that now, can we?" She simpered at me, drawing her wand and pointing it down at me accusingly.

Terror gripped me as they formed a circle in front of me, looking down at me maliciously. Behind my back I desperately reached for my wand, wanting nothing more than to feel the delicate wood between my fingers but I was too slow.

Bellatrix used the Cruciatus Curse on me, watching me write and fumble on the ground as my body wracked with waves of pain. The spell grabbed hold of my nerves and muscles, everything seizing and convulsing with spasms of genuine, endless agony.

When the curse lifted my body shook with the after effects, my limbs and mind slowly recovered from the uncalled for torture. My wand! I felt around for it under me, but I must have pushed it away while I rolled over the floor.

"Hmm… it looks like she could do with another round. Come on then, boys," Bellatrix said to Greyback and the other on either side of her. She raised her wand again and burst happily, "Crucio!" and I had just enough time to register the men doing the same as three Cruciatus curses enveloped me crushingly.

My mind was not capable of staying lucid beyond that point with the horrible sensations overtaking me. Her spell took hold of me, and it doubled as Greyback turned his wand on me, which was shortly followed by another I couldn't really even feel the white-hot pain before my vision went dark like the inside of my head and when I woke up panting and shuddering I realized I had passed out under the curse.

"Ah, you see? I told you she would not be out for long," Greyback nudged Bellatrix, grinning awfully above me.

I scooted back from him into the wall, wondering what had happened while I was out of consciousness. As my eyes searched around wildly, I found Draco still standing where he stood before but his expression was no longer a stoic mask.

His brow was furrowed only slightly, but I could see it on his face, his grey eyes swirling with indecision in their sockets. When he finally noticed I was looking directly at him, I stared up at him imploringly as my lips formed a soundless word I knew he would understand.

'Please…'

"I wonder… how long it will take her to go mad under the curse? Surely not as long as the others we've tortured, wouldn't you say?" Bellatrix asked, toying with the wand between her fingers.

The other Death Eater and the werewolf agreed, and I was stunned when I felt Greyback running his wand along the fine line of my jaw. I recoiled, looking back to Draco, who was frowning more prominently now.

He stepped forward finally, moving from his immobile spot and coming to stand beside Bellatrix. "Aunt Bella, shouldn't we go now and do what you came here for- and deal with her later? Time is running out," he pointed out reasonably, not betraying any emotion in his voice or face.

Though Bellatrix looked disappointed she regretfully agreed. "Yes, Draco, you are as insightful as ever." She looked at me and crouched down, disgust etching across her face. "You are going to wait here quietly, while Draco becomes the most revered Death Eater in the Dark Lord's circle. And when we return, I am going to curse you until you can't remember your own name."

Her words carried a grave promise, and I did not doubt her intentions at all. She produced more ropes from the end of her wand to bind me tighter, and silenced me with a spell.

"Come along, Draco!" She chirped gleefully, leading the men out of the room.

He trailed after them slowly, watching me the entire time as he went. Before he closed the door, his wand aimed at me and I felt the straps loosen immensely enough that I could wriggle out of them and I did just that when the door snapped shut.

Finding my wand, I undid the silencing spell and made all the black chains encircling my body vanish without a trace. I stumbled to my feet and ran all the way back to my common room without stopping once.

In the comfort of the Gryffindor dormitory, I allowed myself to unravel. I sunk to the floor and sobbed for hours, unable to do anything else. My body was aching, my heart even more so as I replayed the events of the evening with remorse and humiliation.

After everything he did, all he put me through, why would he let me go?

I could not make any sense of the situation and it rocked me down to my very core. Nothing was clear anymore- not my feelings or his motives- and I was terrified.

Who was Draco Malfoy really, and why did he set me free when everything told me he shouldn't have?

No matter how much I wished to solve the enigma of Draco Malfoy, I never would and I should have been grateful I managed to leave the Room of Requirement mostly unscathed.

But I was altogether unsatisfied, and resolved to understand him and to know once and for all if he felt the same things for me as I unswervingly did for him.

One day I would make Draco feel everything he inflicted upon me with a vengeance.

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this random… um, thing, I don't really even know what the point is, there probably isn't one. I wrote this a few years back and revisited today to edit it and decided to post it anyway because Dramione is just too delicious. Thanks for reading! Reviews are, as always, welcomed and much appreciated.