Oh, God. Sometimes I'm such an idiot, I surprise even myself. Seriously. Temporary insanity is the only possible explanation for the situation I've gotten myself in. Why would I agree to fight Mr. Junior Death Eater without backup of any kind? Late at night, too, when the only things around are Peeves and Filch's freaky cat. And why the heck does he always want to meet in this trophy room anyway? Do shiny things turn Malfoys on?

Probably.

Ugh. Can't unthink that thought. The mental pictures alone. I wonder if there's a spell to bleach one's inner-eye. I make a mental note to ask Trelawney the next time I see her.

Trelawney? Oh yeah. Temporary insanity.

I clutch my wand and pace around the room for a bit. The little ferret's late. Just like him. Arse. Annoyed, I make a noise of disgust, just as Malfoy emerges from the shadows. An appropriate entrance, if I do say so myself.

"Weasel."

Heat rises to my face. I'm perfectly aware of how stupid that particular jibe is. I hear worse from Fred and George all the time and it doesn't bother me a bit, but when it comes from Malfoy's mouth, I just want to smash his skull.

Eh. I don't really need much provocation. Ten minutes late and a slur. Good enough! I lunge at him, promptly pushing us both to the ground. His mouth is frozen in an O-shape, but he recovers quickly and smacks me across the face. Open-handed. I snort. How girly. I pull back a bit and punch his jaw. The contact makes a sickening - and rather satisfactory - cracking noise.

In retaliation, he grabs a handful of my hair, forcing a scream from my throat. The scream is a little too high-pitched, to tell you the truth, and my face flushes in embarrassment. Malfoy yanks my head down to his level and the little git bites my ear. And to add insult to injury, he keeps it in his mouth for just a second longer than necessary. I shudder when his lips slip over my skin.

After he loosens his jaw, I lean back and our eyes meet, both of us caught up in the moment. I take a deep breath - then haul back and punch him again. Hard. Blood instantly begins gushing from his nose. I can't do anything but laugh hysterically at poncey little Malfoy, all messed up and bloodied. As I struggle to catch my breath, his gets more rapid and, bloody nostrils flaring, he reaches up and grabs my shoulders, slamming me to the floor.

The back of my head connects with stone. Ow! Fucker. Malfoy's now on top of me and chest heaving, he straddles my hips. Grabbing a handful of my robes with one hand, curling his fingers into a fist with the other, I flinch.

Then, one drop of blood rolls down his mouth and chin and slowly... lands... on my face.

Splash.

Malfoy's curled fist instantly relaxes and he stares interestedly at the spot where it landed. A slow, sick smile spreads across his pointed face and he leans over and... and...

He licks me. Licks his way from my chin, up my lips, and across my cheek, getting all the blood along the way.

Blinking, I stare at him for several seconds. Honestly, I'm somewhere between disgusted and completely turned on. "I taste good," states Malfoy, matter-of-factly. He smirks, a sweaty lock of hair falling in front of his face. "Wanna lick?"

I whimper, now completely aware of his weight centred on my groin. Should I punch him again or take him up on his offer? Decisions, decisions.