Draco's POV

It was hard for Draco to swallow his damned pride, it's what made up his entire personality. This dim-witted, physical form of intolerance was no exception. He noticed the thick piece of paperback settled between her delicate, dangerous digits. It held no interest to him whatsoever.

He knew exactly what she was doing. The cursed bitch wouldn't meet his hard gaze directed at her, trying to get a rise out of him. It was fucking working. He noticed a twitch in her upper lip, out of amusement, he concluded.

Amusing, huh? We'll see about that.

He took no time in rushing her out of her chair and quickly struck her against the wall, the books that settled themselves comfortably on the shelving there rattled violently at his action. The notion came much too easily for him, having practiced on..several...girls in his year despite his age. For a completely different reason, however. One he wouldn't mind completing right about now.

Fuck. He did not just think that. He sneered at the thought. Nevermind, none of this would matter once he gets back at this piece of scum for embarrassing him in front of the whole school. He will get his way, that's the way it's always been.

He took in her slightly disheveled appearance, changing his deadly sneer into his classic smirk as he gazed at the damage he'd done to her hair and clothing. He hadn't even realized his hand was wrapped around her neck, much less pushing into her soft flesh against the bookshelf that rested itself behind the witch.

He saw her upper lip curl in disgust, literally seeing the gears shift in her mind, trying to get out of the hold he has on her. Without a single sound, a single second to spare, he grabs the arm that was raised to hit him, possibly slap him across the face as she did during the first day of dancing lessons, and turned it towards the wall behind her, not letting go. Although her other hand remains unrestrained by him, there's a feeling in his gut that lets him know she wouldn't be trying to leave anytime soon. The girl was definitely stronger than her lanky arms made her look, but still being no match for the boy who spent years playing quidditch and beating the life out of fellow students.

"All I wanted to do was study today, is that so much to ask for? I can't do it tomorrow, that's when the first challenge occurs.", he heard the witch complain after a deathly moment of silence between the two. He had forgotten that the TriWizard Champions had to complete their first task the day after today, revenge taking over his mind for the time being.

No witty remark? No sarcastic comment? Fine. He'll have to get it out of her himself.

"Not when I see you practically eye-fucking me every chance you get.", the boy replied. He took in her reaction. She visibly swallowed, it could've easily been missed if his hand wasn't pressed up against her neck. She was breathing irregularly, and her eyes avoided his stare, not wanting to face the reality of being caught. The witch hadn't even realized she's been staring at him every time he was in the vicinity, however it was out of spite, never because of lust.

"Can't seem to get me out of your head, hmm?"

She sharply inhaled some air. Finally, the satisfaction he's going to get out of getting her to admit the truth. He can taste the ego-booster from here.

"Actually, I would think of your father while I looked at you. You two look a bit alike, and, well, a girls' mind can't seem to do anything but wander.", Heather sneakily replied.

What did she just say?

Of course, what did he expect from her? Anything less than a satirical statement would not do when it came to the dark brown-haired girl. His eyes flared up with rage at the feeling of the gratification that was almost handed to him just pulled away almost instantly. He glazed his eyes over her form, realizing she changed out of her robes and wore something more comfortable. Black ripped jeans hugged her legs and thighs, paired with a simple, blue sweatshirt and a button-up underneath it, the collar protruding out of the top of the crewneck. She wore cream-coloured high tops, though he doubted she wore them to make herself taller. A silver ring adorned her right hand, though which finger, he didn't have time to search for.

He began to lean in closer to the witch, his eyes not leaving hers until his head brushed past her soft skin. He held himself so that they were facing opposite directions, his lips stopping right next to her left ear.

"Malfoy- what the fuck are you- get off.", the witch groaned under his weight, now pressed tightly against her, sandwiched between the young wizard and the bookshelf, the only things that were keeping her upright. She shuddered at their close proximity, this was the closest they've ever been before, and Merlin's Beard it made her uncomfortable.

Heather silenced herself when she felt a small breath of air against her ear, his lips so close against her cheek, if she would turn her head slightly to the left, she would not like what would happen.

"If you pull something like that again, I will make your life miserable. Don't test me, darling. I only asked you to go with me so I could humiliate you, and it worked.", he growled lowly into her ear. Heather closed her eyes, not wanting to witness how soft the locks of his hair would look against her fingertips.

"Now run along to your little mudblood and blood traiter friends, I'm sure they-"

He was cut off by the girl grabbing him by his shoulders and switching their positions, now Draco was against the wall, pushed by Heather. Heather? Wow, she was stronger than she looked.

His eyes trailed from her hands on both of his shoulders to her face. Damn, she was angry. Just the way he liked it.

Malfoy always found himself tormenting the angry witch, for what reason he did not know. He concluded that it was because of her reactions, they were hilarious and stroked his ego quite a bit. But, by far, his favourite response out of her is when she was angry. She always revealed her true self when she was angry. He smirked to himself a bit, obviously not letting it show that he was enjoying the position he put himself in. Something told him he should listen to what she should say.

"Listen here, you revolting twat. Never speak of my friends that way again. Last time I noticed, you don't have very many friends. Any true friends anyways.", she looked him up and down with hard eyes as she stated the last line, obviously showing her disgust for the boy.

"I've had it up to here with you. You ask me to the ball, embarrass me for weeks, and now you insult my friends. I've got too much on my plate right now, with studying, the OWL's, the bloody potion, and-"

She stopped when she realized what she just said in front of me. She looked shocked, scared even, that I heard something that looks like I should know nothing about. I racked my head to figure out what she said. I wasn't really listening, I was gazing into her honey-coloured eyes the entire time, the pigment reminding me of a sunset on a warm, autumn evening, when the bright star that so shines upon this cold, dark planet begins to get wary and bids the sky adieu for the next twelve hours. Whatever she said seemed to travel through one ear and out the other.

But, of course, I caught on quickly anyways. She said something about a potion, correct? I know that it isn't one for class because Snape assigned us a 5-page essay, not to brew a potion.

She was making this for her own accord.

"Well, well, well, what's this potion all about then?", the boy inquired. He knew she wouldn't tell him a thing, so he searched his brain for a way to get him to tell her. He landed on blackmail. But what could he use against her?

Ah, alright. That'll do.

The girl took her hands off of him, but he remained standing in front of the bookshelf, he wasn't going anywhere until he found out what the potion was and why she needed it. Her gaze was set upon his cloudy grey eyes, her lips snapped shut and her arms crossed against her chest. She wouldn't tell him anything. Why would she?

"If you don't fucking tell me what that potion is and what you want it for, I'll tell everybody in our year we snogged, starting with your friends.", Draco threatened.

The witch gasped. Would he really say something so ludicrous like that to everybody she cared about? She looked him over once, and once only. This was the most serious she's ever seen the boy, his cold, hard, stare at her eyes tells her that he's bloody serious. She had no choice but to tell him. Snogging Draco? A nightmare in itself.

"Alihosty Draught. I've been selected to give it to a Professor during dinner.", she said. She looked away from him, not wanting to realize the fact that she told him her plan with the twins. Obviously she wouldn't bring them into this, no matter how much trouble this would get her in.

"Which Professor?", the man inquired, his lip growing into a smirk as he realized that she would finally break the rules. What a change of character.

"Dammit, Malfoy, why do you have to be so nosey? Mind your business for once!", she exclaimed. Did it fucking matter which Professor would face the contents of the gold liquid?

His smirk disappeared, and was replaced by a hard frown as his eyebrows furrowed as well. Uh oh.

He grabbed her arm, his fingers sinking into it. She didn't even cry of pain, not a single whimper, not giving him the pleasure of knowing he's hurting her.

"Tell me.", he demanded, his face leaning in closer to hers.

"Fine! I'm giving it to Snape.", the girl spit out.

Draco's face contorted into one of confusion. What the fuck would she give the potion to Snape for? Making him laugh hysterically didn't seem like much of a great show.

"What kind of potion is it?", he asked. Of course he already knew the answer, Draco was actually one of the top students in his year as well. However, he never really told anybody, the subjects all seemed to bore him the same every year.

The witch scoffed. "Don't be stupid, we both know that you know exactly what it does.", the girl calmly stated, rubbing her left arm where he had grabbed her.

He was taken aback by her comment, no one knew of the Slytherin boy's intelligence but himself, his professors, and his bloody parents.

"How did you-"

"That's for another time. Can you let me go now? I still have a couple of hours to study.", the girl interrupted. Clearly she has better things to do than to bicker with the boy.

He gave her a slight nod, signaling her to move back to her seat so he could leave and they could pretend this interaction never happened. Thank God he was away from that spineless twit. He couldn't stand the scent of her cherry-wood perfume, how controlling it felt to have the pheromones wafting under his nose under her touch, paired with the tempting gaze from her eyes. However, one thing left him smiling a bit as he walked out of the dark, clean library. He actually wanted to see the thing with Snape and the draught go down, he deemed it entertaining that she would definitely get caught, and he couldn't wait to find out what her punishment was.