FALLEN
-
-
Draco Malfoy, Slytherin prefect, looks out upon the crowd of first years with disgust. The runny-nosed little cretins are standing in a huddled group in the middle of the entrance hallway, looking particularly frightened and intimidated.
"Move along, then," he snaps, herding them toward the Great Hall. McGonagall is on sick leave, so he and the other prefects are assigned to bring the first years to the Sorting Hat. Nearby, Ron Weasley shoots him a glare, as if to scold him for his little outburst.
Draco sneers back at him and continues pushing the crowd of munchkins forward. One of them is crying, and he gives her the meanest look he can muster. She immediately bursts into new tears.
Ahead of him, Cho Chang, who's somehow managed to become the Head Girl this year, informs the little rats about the four Houses and the Sorting Hat. Draco, who is actually rather observant, notices a few tear tracks on her cheeks and wonders what's gotten the girl worked up. No doubt she's broken up with that dunce Potter, he thinks derisively. But even with her face red and her eyes bloodshot, she's a goddess among women. Her long, obsidian hair is long enough to reach the small of her back, and it glitters in the candlelight. Draco wonders what it would be like to run his fingers through that beautiful hair, and then scolds himself for doing so.
Chang is pureblooded but Draco suspects that she's in with Potter's crowd. Stupid, really, because Ravenclaw has typically been Slytherin's ally. What a waste.
Once the slimy little youngsters are standing in a line by the hat, Draco sidles up to Chang and checks her out. He likes the way her skin is tanned from hours of Quidditch practice, and how she has a little dimple in her cheek that shows when she smiles. She is very petite, barely an inch over five feet. Draco feels like he could pick her up and carry her into his room . . . wait; he's not supposed to be thinking this way about her. It's Chang, for God's sake, Potter's sweetheart.
But there is something appealing about taking what's rightfully Harry's. Draco decides to play a little game with her.
"So, Chang," he says conversationally, "how was your summer?"
Cho looks at him in surprise. "Er . . . fine, thanks. And yours?"
"Pretty good, except I had to spend the whole time with my parents."
"That couldn't have been fun."
"No," says Draco. He decides to take things one step further. "It wasn't very entertaining. What's the matter anyway? You look like you've been crying."
Cho laughs at him. She bloody laughs at him! "Why do you care, Malfoy? You've always treated me like scum---you should be happy I feel like killing myself. I'll be doing you a favor, won't I?"
Draco is at a loss for words. This girl wants to kill herself? Funny, he hadn't been getting the suicidal vibes from her. "Don't do it," he says finally. "Potter would miss you, wouldn't he?"
She laughs again, although this time it's more of a strangled sob. "Harry's going out with Hermione Granger now."
"That jumped-up little Mudblood?" Draco asks before he can stop himself.
"I can think of far worse things to call her," says Cho.
Draco doesn't know why, but he wants to make sure Chang doesn't commit suicide. He tells himself it's just because he wouldn't get to admire her looks if she were dead. But he knows he's lying to himself. "Then don't give him the satisfaction of seeing you gone. Get revenge on him somehow. That's what I would do if a girl dumped me like that."
Cho smiles shakily. "You know, you've managed to make me feel better somehow. Thanks, Malfoy."
"Any time," says Draco with a smirk, walking off to the Slytherin table. Cho watches him leave, wondering how such an annoying little boy grew to be a handsome man seemingly overnight.
-
-
Cho sees Draco again in a couple weeks on the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. He's helping Filch check the permission slips of the third years. She catches his eye and he gives her a crooked grin. In that instant, Cho feels her heart slip away to Harry's enemy.
They explore Hogsmeade together, though Draco never admits that there is anything between them. However, Cho has an uncanny sense of when a guy likes her, and she's getting the signal pretty strongly from Draco. Something about him strikes her as vulnerable, a slight tremble in his hands as if he's nervous.
Draco, on his part, wonders why he isn't more worried about people seeing them together. Usually he won't be caught with anyone who isn't from his house.
When they're walking through a particularly narrow alleyway, Draco feels he can't stop himself. There's something foreign overpowering him, a feeling of lust which he's never felt for anyone before. He pins her against the wall and their faces are mere inches apart.
"Draco?" Cho asks. The fear in her voice encourages Draco even further, and he puts his hands on the wall, on either side of her head.
"You aren't feeling suicidal anymore, are you?"
"No, I'm not," she says.
"Good." Draco's lips are even closer to hers now, and both know what will happen. They don't even try to stop it. They connect, and it's the best kiss either of them has ever experienced. It's deep, but needy, and Draco dazedly thinks that Pansy has nothing on this girl. He cautiously slides his tongue to her lips and she obediently opens her mouth. He's inside her, pushing and twining.
When at last they pull away, Draco brushed himself off and takes a step back from her.
Cho smiles, and it's a genuine expression of happiness, not the fake smile she shows to the world. "I'd like for us to do that again sometime," she says.
Draco cautiously smiles back. "I'd like that, too."