Author's Note: The characters are not mine, the story is. This is a little something I thought up in Psych class today. If you're interested, or even appalled but what you read, please leave feedback. I hope to continue with this but I had problems sticking to things. Positive reviews would encourage me. Anyway, no more fishing for feedback. Read and enjoy. That's all I really ask.
"And I didn't think about
All the ways I hurt you and myself
And I hide
Wouldn't say a thing to you
I keep it to myself and my mind
I can't stand without you
And I won't find the answers when you're gone"
-'It's Over', Goo Goo Dolls
The torn up notebook was perched in his lap and his eyes were scanning over it quickly. He wore his usually expression of disconcert, but secretly, he was interested. He was so tied up in the contents of the handed around book that he was completely ignoring the party taking place in the Slytherin common room.
Francine Founttrain- Nice breasts, but not worth a ride. A real dead fish.
The words were scrawled in splotchy ink at the top of the page. Below it, was a bower style of writing, in all capitals. Definitely written by someone else.
Shane Sweeney- Easier than Ginny Weasely. Mouth like a Hoover. Won't hang around, or try to cuddle. A first fate fuck.
Hmm. He'd have to remember that, he mused. He flicked his eyes down the page, then turned the page. The whole book was filled with little things just like this. A name, and a rating. The book had been circling around the school sense the first month of classes, but this was the first time he'd gotten a hold of it. He'd been after it for weeks, but it got passed from boy to boy so fast that no one could keep track of who had it. A few times it had gotten snatched by a teacher, but they always got it back. It was too precious to lose.
Hermione Granger-
Oh, this was gonna be good.
Hermione Granger- Hard to get, but well worth the work. This little package is full of surprises. Falls for the 'I respect women' type of guy, so play the part accordingly, and you're in. Get ready for a loooong night, boys! But watch it, this one bites.
He raised up an eyebrow lazily. Who would of know that little bookworm was good in the sheets? He was really starting to see the utter importance of this book, and why Goyle had willingly spent an entire weekend in detention for swiping it off of Snape's desk.
He continued searching the pages, skimming over some and stopping at ones that caught his eye. He'd had the pleasure of being with a good number of the girls listed in its pages. He felt that some of them got more credit than they deserved. Well, a lot of them. The girl in this school were so…inexperienced. While he enjoyed their company, none had ever 'rocked his world', so to speak.
Then something caught his glance and nearly made him choke on his air. Written in loopy cursive, smack in the middle of the page was the name 'Harry Potter'.
He groaned loudly. That fag had come out last year. Now he had all the girls all over him, because everyone wanted a gay friend. The bastard knew how to play his cards. He had half a mind to think the prat had made the whole thing up just for attention. He always did have to be at the center of everything. He was always making a big deal about how he'd defeated Voldemort, like, a hundred times. Yeah, big accomplishment. The man was a dried up, old man. Hardly anything to be proud of pounding into the mud. Besides, all Harry had was a stupid scar and a load of sheer, dumb luck.
Still, his eyes went back to the name. He felt curious intrigued to see what someone had said about everyone's favorite queer.
Harry Potter- I know not everyone is into the cock, but if you're willing to take one for the team, Harry is the way to go. This boy is built, and he has hands like a god. He can get you off like no uninformed, clumsy girl in Hogwarts. It takes one to know one, if you know what I mean.
He felt a strange feeling rush through him. His heart rate picked up. Hands like a god. Can get you off like no girl in Hogwarts. He read the little paragraph over, his eyes glued to the page.
A hand on his chest mad him jump out of his seat. He snapped the notebook closed and turned.
"Hey Draco," Pansy whispered seductively, curling her arm around him from behind. She pressed her face in between the space between his shoulder and neck, and let her breath tickle his ear. "You been sitting there with that book all night long. Don't you want to have some fun?"
Draco turned and pushed her off, noting her pout along predominant display of cleavage. She didn't look bad in her Muggle style tank top and the tiny scrap pf leather she was calling a skirt. He could see a flash of her bright pink panties as she moved closer to him. She reeked of alcohol.
"Draco," she whined.
"I'm busy," he said, holding out his hand so she couldn't some closer. She took it and placed it over her breast.
"But, Draco, I had plans for us tonight," she said in a low, fake voice. He was starting to find her blood red lips slathered in sticky gloss annoying. They looked like an oil slick, sliding around her face to form her words. She kept pouting them out, trying to look seductive.
"Well, cancel them. I'm not interested," he growled, yanking his hand away from her. He absently whipped it on his half un-tucked white shirt.
Pansy looked conflicted for a moment, and then with a flip of her died blonde hair, she threw herself forward and latched onto him, suctioning those slimy lips to his. He immediately shoved her, hard. Her ankle bent and she lost her balance and fell back against the floor. Suddenly, everyone was looking over at them, and the ruckus turned to a murmur.
Draco looked around, flicking a lock of white hair from his eyes. He pulled himself up, straitening his back and looked down at Pansy, who was sitting ungracefully with her legs parted to reveal those obnoxious knickers.
"I said I wasn't interested, so back off. I don't want to have anything to do with you," he snapped.
Her eyes went watery, and she just glared at him. The same way everyone else was glaring. Snorting angrily, he turned on his heel and stalked over to the painting and stomped out of the room. He could here everyone talking behind him. He didn't care. Everyone was used to bastard Malfoy, and they would have forgotten about it by the end of the night.
He stalked down the dark hall to a door leading outside. He slipped threw it and slammed the door shut. He shivered in the cool, April air as he plopped down on a cold, stone bench. Pressing his lips together, and snapping a look in all directions to make sure he was alone, he placed the notebook on his lap. His fingers were still holding a place inside and he flipped it open to the spot.
The name stared up at him like a smack in the face. The loopy, dark inked letters swirled up at him. Harry Potter. A good lay.
He slapped the book shut. He wished he knew who the miserable fag was who'd had the balls to write down that name. It was disgusting.
"And I didn't think about
All the ways I hurt you and myself
And I hide
Wouldn't say a thing to you
I keep it to myself and my mind
I can't stand without you
And I won't find the answers when you're gone"
-'It's Over', Goo Goo Dolls
The torn up notebook was perched in his lap and his eyes were scanning over it quickly. He wore his usually expression of disconcert, but secretly, he was interested. He was so tied up in the contents of the handed around book that he was completely ignoring the party taking place in the Slytherin common room.
Francine Founttrain- Nice breasts, but not worth a ride. A real dead fish.
The words were scrawled in splotchy ink at the top of the page. Below it, was a bower style of writing, in all capitals. Definitely written by someone else.
Shane Sweeney- Easier than Ginny Weasely. Mouth like a Hoover. Won't hang around, or try to cuddle. A first fate fuck.
Hmm. He'd have to remember that, he mused. He flicked his eyes down the page, then turned the page. The whole book was filled with little things just like this. A name, and a rating. The book had been circling around the school sense the first month of classes, but this was the first time he'd gotten a hold of it. He'd been after it for weeks, but it got passed from boy to boy so fast that no one could keep track of who had it. A few times it had gotten snatched by a teacher, but they always got it back. It was too precious to lose.
Hermione Granger-
Oh, this was gonna be good.
Hermione Granger- Hard to get, but well worth the work. This little package is full of surprises. Falls for the 'I respect women' type of guy, so play the part accordingly, and you're in. Get ready for a loooong night, boys! But watch it, this one bites.
He raised up an eyebrow lazily. Who would of know that little bookworm was good in the sheets? He was really starting to see the utter importance of this book, and why Goyle had willingly spent an entire weekend in detention for swiping it off of Snape's desk.
He continued searching the pages, skimming over some and stopping at ones that caught his eye. He'd had the pleasure of being with a good number of the girls listed in its pages. He felt that some of them got more credit than they deserved. Well, a lot of them. The girl in this school were so…inexperienced. While he enjoyed their company, none had ever 'rocked his world', so to speak.
Then something caught his glance and nearly made him choke on his air. Written in loopy cursive, smack in the middle of the page was the name 'Harry Potter'.
He groaned loudly. That fag had come out last year. Now he had all the girls all over him, because everyone wanted a gay friend. The bastard knew how to play his cards. He had half a mind to think the prat had made the whole thing up just for attention. He always did have to be at the center of everything. He was always making a big deal about how he'd defeated Voldemort, like, a hundred times. Yeah, big accomplishment. The man was a dried up, old man. Hardly anything to be proud of pounding into the mud. Besides, all Harry had was a stupid scar and a load of sheer, dumb luck.
Still, his eyes went back to the name. He felt curious intrigued to see what someone had said about everyone's favorite queer.
Harry Potter- I know not everyone is into the cock, but if you're willing to take one for the team, Harry is the way to go. This boy is built, and he has hands like a god. He can get you off like no uninformed, clumsy girl in Hogwarts. It takes one to know one, if you know what I mean.
He felt a strange feeling rush through him. His heart rate picked up. Hands like a god. Can get you off like no girl in Hogwarts. He read the little paragraph over, his eyes glued to the page.
A hand on his chest mad him jump out of his seat. He snapped the notebook closed and turned.
"Hey Draco," Pansy whispered seductively, curling her arm around him from behind. She pressed her face in between the space between his shoulder and neck, and let her breath tickle his ear. "You been sitting there with that book all night long. Don't you want to have some fun?"
Draco turned and pushed her off, noting her pout along predominant display of cleavage. She didn't look bad in her Muggle style tank top and the tiny scrap pf leather she was calling a skirt. He could see a flash of her bright pink panties as she moved closer to him. She reeked of alcohol.
"Draco," she whined.
"I'm busy," he said, holding out his hand so she couldn't some closer. She took it and placed it over her breast.
"But, Draco, I had plans for us tonight," she said in a low, fake voice. He was starting to find her blood red lips slathered in sticky gloss annoying. They looked like an oil slick, sliding around her face to form her words. She kept pouting them out, trying to look seductive.
"Well, cancel them. I'm not interested," he growled, yanking his hand away from her. He absently whipped it on his half un-tucked white shirt.
Pansy looked conflicted for a moment, and then with a flip of her died blonde hair, she threw herself forward and latched onto him, suctioning those slimy lips to his. He immediately shoved her, hard. Her ankle bent and she lost her balance and fell back against the floor. Suddenly, everyone was looking over at them, and the ruckus turned to a murmur.
Draco looked around, flicking a lock of white hair from his eyes. He pulled himself up, straitening his back and looked down at Pansy, who was sitting ungracefully with her legs parted to reveal those obnoxious knickers.
"I said I wasn't interested, so back off. I don't want to have anything to do with you," he snapped.
Her eyes went watery, and she just glared at him. The same way everyone else was glaring. Snorting angrily, he turned on his heel and stalked over to the painting and stomped out of the room. He could here everyone talking behind him. He didn't care. Everyone was used to bastard Malfoy, and they would have forgotten about it by the end of the night.
He stalked down the dark hall to a door leading outside. He slipped threw it and slammed the door shut. He shivered in the cool, April air as he plopped down on a cold, stone bench. Pressing his lips together, and snapping a look in all directions to make sure he was alone, he placed the notebook on his lap. His fingers were still holding a place inside and he flipped it open to the spot.
The name stared up at him like a smack in the face. The loopy, dark inked letters swirled up at him. Harry Potter. A good lay.
He slapped the book shut. He wished he knew who the miserable fag was who'd had the balls to write down that name. It was disgusting.