Mature content ahead.

_____

''Draco—'' Isla brushed her skirt back down, trying to seem less flustered than she actually was, ''What are you doing here?''

Theodore backed away awkwardly as both of his hands combed through his hair, easing the messy curls, ''Mate, not a good time,'' He sighed, sending Draco an annoyed glare.

Malfoy's jaws gritted, his teeth clasping together out of what he'd just witnessed. He failed to speak a word and his eyes bored through Isla's.

Her breath stressed, and her pulse quickened out of the embarrassment as Theo cocked his head, ''Malfoy?'' He snapped, ''What do you want—''

''Professor McGonagall wished for me to get you, Nott,'' He spat out, missing the attempt to downplay his anger, ''She needs help with cleaning up the mess in her classroom.''

Theo's eyes rolled, inhaling deeply as the color in his hues darkened, ''And you couldn't help her with that?'' His voice increased, ''Are you so full of yourself that you actually walked all the way down here to—''

''Do as she says, Nott,'' Draco seethed, crossing his arms over his chest as he threw a nod over his shoulder, signaling for the brunet to leave, ''When a teacher asks for help, you do as told, didn't your mom teach you some manners?''

Theodore scoffed provokingly at the blond, ''You're the one to talk, Malfoy, aren't you?'' He took slow strides up to Draco, halting inches away, ''But if you don't mind, I'm busy—''

''It's alright,'' Isla jumped off the counter she was seated on, her fingers quick and nervously dragged through the ends of her hair, ''I can fix this by myself, just go to Professor McGonagall and I'll—''

''Do as the ladies say, Nott.'' Draco's grey eyes narrowed at his green ones, ''Be a good boy and listen to Clarke.''

Isla gulped, turning away from them as she grasped for some paper towels to clean the layered mess on her chin off.

''Fucking hell,'' Theodore growled, shouldering his way past Draco as Isla caught hurried, severe steps echoing down the corridor.

Her shoulders sunk slightly, eased by the fading hostile tension until she felt his stare burning into her back again, and she turned around, ''What are you—''

''Don't think I didn't see that, Clarke,'' Draco's hues shifted darkly, his tone accusing and filled with disgust, ''Don't think I didn't fucking see how desperate you were for him to touch you.''

Isla blinked rapidly as she stumbled on her words, ''I didn't—''

''Of course, you didn't,'' Draco chuckled, slowly striding forward, ''Just like you didn't beg me to touch you in the hallway the other night, right?''

She swallowed, thickly as she backed away for every step he took towards her, ''I don't have to explain myself to you—''

Her lower back collided with a table, peering over her shoulder to see all the cakes and pastries resting on it before her sight snapped to his again.

''I didn't ask you to explain yourself,'' His voice shredded lowly, intimidating almost, ''I don't remember asking you any questions at all.''

''Then why are you—'' Her fingers gripped the edge of the counter as soon as his body closed in on hers. His breaths fanned her skin, and his freezing hands settled next to hers, ''Why are you doing this, Draco? I have things—''

''My fucking name, Clarke,'' He hissed, jaws sharp, ''I have told you not to use my fucking name.'' He was enchanting every word now, tired of her lack of understanding.

''Then what do you want me to call you?'' She questioned, her eyes flickering in the slightly dark kitchen, ''If I can't say your name—''

''You don't call me anything,'' He mumbled, studying her features thoughtfully, breathing in her sweet scent, ''You don't speak to me, and you don't address me, am I clear?''

Isla didn't nod. She didn't make it clear, and that stretched his temper more than he had the patience for, causing his hand to snatch the back of her neck in a rough move, bending her head back to look at him, ''Am I clear?''

''No—'' Isla yanked her head back, gathering some pieces of the confidence he repeatedly robbed her off, ''You can't decide when it's acceptable for me to—''

''Did he touch you?'' Draco couldn't hold it in anymore. The waver of not knowing if Theodore touched her in the same way he did, chewed within.

Isla's brows knitted, her face shifted in a grimace, ''What do you—'' She faltered, ''How is that any of your concern?''

Malfoy tried to read her. His hand slowly slipped down her back.

''I can't even say your name, but you have the audacity to ask me if he touched me—''

''He didn't,'' Draco mumbled, towering over her, ''That's good, one less thing to worry about.'' Her hair tickled his skin as he moved his other hand to her waist, gripping her flesh tightly, ''Not that I worry, but I like my meals...untouched.''

She shook at that, her breaths ragged for a second, ''I don't understand—''

''Did he get to taste this?'' Malfoy breathed, his thumb on her bottom lip as he dragged it down, ''Did he get to taste you in ways I didn't?''

Her mind clocked that night, and she remembered how he never kissed her lips, ''He—''

''He did, yeah?'' Draco was so close to her now, breathing the same air as her skin shivered underneath the fabric of her clothes.

Isla's lips parted to say something — to speak against him. It was so much easier for her to speak up to Malfoy. He was rude, mean towards her.

''What if I want to taste you, Clarke?'' He growled so lowly that it vibrated throughout her, ''Can I taste what I didn't get the chance to do last time?''

Draco shot a stare at the trays around them before he violently, with one of his arms, shoved all pieces of sweets off it — causing loud slams of metal colliding with the stone-covered floor to echo, but he didn't bother.

Her back arched more over the counter before she, nearly unconsciously, pushed herself upon it — making Draco grin devilishly as he fitted perfectly in between her legs. His hands fell to her thighs, marking them with his rings as he dug his fingers into her skin.

''Do I, Clarke?'' He asked again, still husky, ''Do I—''

''Yes...'' She whispered, and before she could close her eyes properly, his lips attacked hers.

It felt to her — as if he was punishing her again. His lips moved aggressively against her, his teeth constantly sunk into her bottom one, and he bit it so that she whimpered.

Draco backed away, only enough for one of his legs to place on the outside of hers, and with their kiss still going — he let his tongue battle hers. His hands closed around her waist as he dragged her towards the edge of the wood.

Isla's nails clawed at his shoulders, her lips swollen, and she was again — out of breath. Her mind clouded by the lust-filled thoughts both of the boys trapped her in, that she couldn't think clearly.

''I want to do exactly what you're thinking about, Clarke,'' He growled against her lips, pulling his head away from hers, as he roughly grabbed her chin, making her jaws part.

''And what is that?'' She inhaled, seeking the missing wind in her lungs.

He smirked evilly as he looked down at his own thigh that was still in between hers, ''I want you to make yourself feel good on me.''

Isla gulped. Her skin feverish, her cheeks glowing red. She couldn't breathe rightly as she caught onto his words, ''You want what—''

''Hell, Clarke,'' Draco growled at the dirty thoughts in her head, ''Are you sure that you want me to do that to you, yeah?''

Her mind circled with the thoughts of pushing herself against him, whimpering into his mouth as he helped her rock out her orgasm.

''So fucking pure—'' He grumbled, biting down onto his bottom lip, ''Let me do that to you, exactly what you're thinking about, let me do—''

He didn't have the chance to conclude before the corner of her mouth ticked at the feeling of his arms around her, and she let herself slip down onto his thigh. Her toes against the floor as her hands locked around his neck.

"Then do it,'' She whimpered by the immediate contact her damp underwear made with his black suit pants.

Isla had failed to do anything like this with anyone before — she was a virgin. She didn't even kiss someone to the full extent until Theo kissed her moments ago. She didn't know what she was up to or what she was meant to do instead of this.

All she knew what that she missed her chances of things similar to this with the boy who once owned her heart — and that life was way too short not to enjoy herself and the possibilities it brought her.

She didn't want to give away herself fully to someone who'd treated her the way Malfoy had, but she wanted to experiment.

She wished to see what else was out there for her, and the tension she gathered with the boy whose thigh she now moved slowly against was an attraction she couldn't avoid for much longer.

He despised her — and she didn't feel too affected of him, but the way her body seemed to crave his, how all she could think about since the night in the hallway — was his hands gripping her skin, his lips sucking on her neck.

''I like those pretty thoughts of yours,'' Draco mumbled, bringing her face closer to his as he helped her to rock against him, ''Keep thinking of me like that, yeah?''

Isla moaned silently within the flesh of her own mouth as she eagerly nodded, and she pushed herself onto him, rolling her hips over his thigh.

''Think about me, Clarke,'' He held her face steady and close, ''Think about me and all the things you want me to do to you.''

Isla whined, her fingers scratched at the back of his neck in desperation at how he made her feel, ''I am—''

Draco's teeth grazed against her bottom lip, breathing heavily onto her skin as he grabbed her jaw even more coarsely. The way she slammed herself onto his leg drove him mad, ''I fucking hate you.''

He did, and she could feel it.

Every act was spiteful. Every word escaped with disgust.

His hand that rested on her hip, helping her shove herself back and forth — traveled below her skirt, down her bare thigh, and he could feel how goosebumps trailed, ''Such a good fucking girl, aren't you?'' He growled.

Her head fell back, slightly at the feeling of her heat constantly stroking against his thigh, ''That's right, fuck my thigh,'' Draco's stare caught hers, ''Get yourself off on me and know your place,''

''I can't—'' Isla's head fell forwards again, her breaths nonexistent out of the pounding ache she felt in between her legs. It was such an unfamiliar feeling, ''I don't—''

''Fuck, think about me, Clarke,'' Draco mumbled, all consumed in her movements, how her toes stretched to let herself rock back and forth, chasing her orgasm to the fullest, ''Think about my mouth, think about all the things my mouth could do to you,''

He was speaking into her parted lips, catching every breath she was heaving out, ''Think about my hands—'' He gripped her hips tightly, ''Think about how fucking full your pretty little cunt would be with my fingers inside you.''

Isla gasped out, moaning straight into his mouth, ''Please—'' Her eyes pleading his, noses brushed against each other, ''Please, I need it—''

''You're not getting anything until you soak my fucking leg,'' He hissed as her eyes began to roll back. She couldn't move in rhythm anymore. The pleasure of his thigh stroking her clothed clit grew. Pure ecstasy flushed through her nerves — something she failed to feel before.

Draco could feel her body as it began to shake, and he took a moment to let go of her jaw, gripping her hip instead. He helped her slam down onto him harder, rougher, faster — he needed to hear her whimpers as she fell apart on top of him.

''Yeah, that's it, right there—'' He grunted as her forehead dropped to his shoulder, her fingers clawing his skin, ''Soak my thigh,''

Isla did everything to muffle the sound of her moans as she felt a knot unraveling in her stomach. It tickled every vessel in her body, her eyelids fluttered,

''I'm—'' She gasped, still rolling her hips against him, ''Oh my—''

Draco groaned with her as her whole being fell into pieces above him. She had no strength in standing plain on her feet anymore, '' There you go, you desperate slut, let it fucking go—''

Isla heaved out of control as Draco forced her head back, using his thumbs to bend her mouth wide and once more, without warning — he spat into her parted lips, ''I fucking hate you,''

He let his own tongue roll over his lips as she collected herself, allowing her mind to gather from the orgasm she just caught. Draco rose a dangerous brow, meaning for her to swallow what he'd just granted her — and she did.

The kitchen still brightness and the only sound circling was their weighty breaths. He was just as done as she was — the concentration and gathering of Isla letting herself go on top of him took the last pieces of strength he had for the day.

His eyes locked in hers, furrowing his brows slightly as her face cloaked into a confused gaze. She didn't know what to do now. Draco's sight flicked before he slowly pulled his thigh out from underneath her — not too fast so that she fell.

He knew that her legs wouldn't be stabile after a moment like this one. Seconds of silence embraced them, and the strange feeling caused her to feel more than uncertain.

''I should—'' Isla peered around, gesturing towards the chaos of cakes and pastry on the floor. She just wanted him to leave, ''I mean, I have a lot to do.''

''I can see that,'' Draco backed away, still staring at her as the long strands of her hair spilled over her shoulders, ''Then you better start cleaning,''

Isla's eyes rolled at the sarcastically mean comment he spoke, sighing loudly at him as she brushed her skirt down more properly. She pointed to ignore the blond to her fullest — as she thought he would.

Her knees struck the floor, and her hands began to grasp at the mess on it before she caught his steps closer again, ''One word—'' He hovered over her, causing her to look up at him for a quick minute, ''One fucking words about this to anyone and I'll make sure—''

''What?'' Isla snapped, tired to always be the one granted with threats. She forced herself off the ground, facing him fully in the dim light, ''What are you going to do? Kiss me again?''

Draco's jaws gritted as he did everything possible not to let his anger get the best of him, ''No, I shouldn't have done so in the first place,'' His face held coldly.

Isla's sight flickered across him, her brows dragged together in slight disbelief before she shoved her way past him, ''You're a fool, Malfoy.'' She mumbled underneath her breath, ''And I hate you—''

''What did I say about my last name—'' Draco growled out, his stern voice shredded throughout the basement, ''I'm not telling you again, don't you fucking—''

''Malfoy.'' Isla turned around, quickly in the doorway to the kitchen, on her way to leave him in it, ''Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.'' She pushed him, making his eyes bore through hers, ''It doesn't sound any differently just because I'm not as pure as you.''

Draco didn't say anything. His hands curled into fists as he watched her from a distance, ''Now, you can explain to Professor McGonagall why her cakes won't be decorated.'' Isla muttered, still furious with the blond and his childish behavior.

Malfoy shot her an evil stare before she shifted around, and she disappeared into the shadows of the hallway, leaving Draco with the mess in the kitchen.

Isla didn't join her morning class the following day. She was terrified that Professor McGonagall would be infuriated with her and the now lack of decorated cakes. Her mind didn't function properly.

She didn't know what to do or what to think about the situation she constantly found herself in. The never-ending battle between her and the two Slytherins. She couldn't even spare them a thought without a severe migraine following.

It was confusing to her — how she allowed herself to be sucked into their embrace so often. Isla wasn't like this. She had never been this puzzled about anything, but the thought of Cedric and the time they never got together, haunted her, and she didn't want to be kept on hold anymore.

She wanted to live freely, without the restrictions of herself. Still, it was strange to her — from not earning as much as a glare from the two boys — to both of them overwhelming her.

''Are you—'' Isla's eyes snapped at the girl walking through their door, ''What are you doing in here? You missed class this morning—''

''I know,'' Isla rolled her eyes away from Ava, staring down at the intertwined fingers in her lap instead, ''I wasn't feeling too well.''

''Does this have anything to do with you coming back late yesterday?'' Ava questioned, leaning against the doorway, ''I didn't hear you come in until after—''

''I went to the tower,'' Isla spoke up quickly, ''Cleansing my thoughts or something like that,'' Her brows knitted together by the lie she just told, and her insides slightly caved.

Isla loathed the untruth.

''I didn't want to wake you, so I stayed out—''

''Mhm,'' Ava's sight narrowed, glancing over her friend before she shouldered the door even wider, ''But that's no excuse for you not being in class. McGonagall will lose her mind if you miss another class.''

''She can't possibly give me more detention, so I don't see the point in—'' Isla sought to speak, her head fell back, lightly striking the headboard of her bed, ''Tell her I'm not feeling well or something,''

''Isla,'' Ava tried to warn, ''I don't care if you're all I don't care about anything anymore,'' Her note sarcastic, tauntingly, ''You are coming with me to class, or I'll tell your mom.''

Isla huffed, shaking her head, ''Go ahead. My mother has better things to do than to focus on my detention.''

Ava's fingers gripped the door ledge, still frowning, ''Then I'll tell your aunt.''

Isla's blood chilled, and shivers struck her skin, ''What?'' Her eyes flickered, her body tensed, ''Molly has nothing to do—''

''Then take school seriously, Isla.'' Ava sounded severe, ''I don't care if you've given up on humanity or if you're planning to run away and marry a muggle. I don't care, but this is important. If you choose to stay here, you need your grades, and you need your reputation.''

Isla's face softened at the look of her best friend talking about their childhood plans. She indeed wished to marry a muggle as a child — to not have to hide her legacy and to be scared of her father's future, but her mind hadn't reached that thought in so long, and now,

Well, now she was deemed to marry someone else — someone she didn't get to choose — two boys selected for her.

''Fine,'' Isla groaned, rolling her eyes away from her friend before she forced herself off the bed, snatching her books from her desk, and marched out behind Ava in the hallway.

Isla walked in silence, her mind fighting the urge to go back to her room and simply hide from what she knew was coming. The professor granted her one task. She couldn't complete it and the shame she felt of that wavered.

She faltered right behind the door leading into her classroom, hiding almost. Her books pushed against her chest as she hugged her arms around them, ''I think I'll—''

''Stop it,'' Ava whispered harshly as she wrapped her hand around Isla's upper arm. She dragged her friend with her through the entrance.

Isla's sight grounded as she stepped beside her friend, slipping down to their seats. She didn't dare to look up for several long moments. The instant she believed to gain eye contact with the professor — she thought it to be over. That she'd be in too much trouble.

That didn't surprise her. Isla was placed in Slytherin after all — even if she quite couldn't figure it out. Isla strongly believed that the reason she was settled in the house she was — was because of her father, not because she truly belonged.

''Terrific work on the cakes yesterday, Miss Clarke.'' The teacher called out for her, making her flinch at the sudden attention, ''Each and every one of those cakes looked lovely.''

Isla's brows furrowed as she slowly nodded towards McGonagall, in the loss of her right mind. If Ava didn't sit next to her, and if the day's date wasn't written on the board in front of her — she would have believed that she was going crazy.

''You're—''

''Yeah,'' Isla's jaws gritted at the voice coming from behind her, ''Outstanding job on those cakes, Clarke.''

She gulped, feeling the fanning breaths on her shoulder as she hesitantly turned around in her seat, facing the grey eyes, ''I didn't—''

''Of course, you didn't,'' Draco growled, lowly, ''Is that the one thing you're capable of speaking?'' He was visibly upset, not with her — he wasn't rude enough to be angry with her, but something bothered Draco.

''Then what do you want me to say?'' Isla fired back, whispering the words, ''All you do is complain. It doesn't matter what I say. You just—''

She hushed entirely, aiming to turn back around in her chair and avoid the blond, ''Just leave me alone,''

Draco's hand gripped her shoulder, and he yanked her back, shooting the surrounding students a swift look to make sure no one caught him, ''No, you listen to me now, Clarke.'' He wasn't playing around this time, ''I saved you from detention, again, so I'd suggest for you to behave like that good little girl you were yesterday.''

Isla blinked quickly at his act, ''I didn't ask you for that, Malfoy.'' She breathed, ''I didn't ask for you to help me. I walked out, and I knew—''

''No, and I didn't ask you to ride my fucking thigh, but we all make sacrifices, don't we?'' He snapped, his skin nearly fumed out of anger, ''I need you to do something for me.''

Her teeth clasped. Her head tipped to the side, checking so that her friend wasn't eavesdropping, making the long strands of her hair fall in her eyesight. Isla tucked a lock behind her ear, '' What do you want?'' Doubting her question already.

Draco smirked, amusingly, ''Since you are worthless enough to even decorate cakes, I won't be asking you for much, Clarke. Don't you worry,'' He hissed, letting go of her arm as he inched closer, ''All I need is a favor.''

Isla nodded, still startled, feeling him breathe in the scent of her hair, ''What kind of favor?'' Her eyes flickered over the students behind him before he bent back, meeting her confused gaze, ''What favor?''

Draco let his tongue graze against his inner cheek, cocking his head as she was seated in front of him, ''I need you to go to the masquerade with me.''

_____