Playing with Fire

Chapter 42: Crossfire

Song: Tighten Up - The Black Keys

Draco Malfoy, Minister of Magic, Fore Garroter for the Dark Lord.

That’s who he was now. How the world would see him. He should’ve felt horrified and full of self-loathing, and instead, he just felt numb to his new position.

Sunday morning, the Dark Lord had brought him to a line-up of witches and wizards, none of which Draco recognized.

“Dispose of them however you see best fit”, the Dark Lord instructed him. “Oh, and Fore Garroter?“, he asked. Draco nodded in response, waiting for him to continue. “Do enjoy yourself”, the Dark Lord smirked at him, and then he was gone.

Draco turned to look at the 10 people in front of him. Starting with the closest, an elderly witch who was wetting her pants in fear. He took a deep breath to prepare himself, aimed his wand at the witch, and shouted, “Avada Kedavra!”

Green light shot out of his wand, causing the woman’s body to fall back lifelessly. It reminded him all too much of watching his mother’s body do the same just months earlier. However, he was pleasantly surprised that this wasn’t nearly as difficult as killing Luna had been.

He moved onto the next person - a grungy looking wizard who appeared to have gone without a shower for quite some time. He spat at Draco’s feet angrily.

Draco reared back before aiming his wand at the man and shouting, ”Garrotio!“, just like the Dark Lord had told him. A transparent, glowing lasso shot out of the end of Draco’s wand, cracking in the air, and wrapped itself around the man’s neck. Draco stared in shock - he hadn’t meant to hurt the man, but he liked this feeling of control.

Veins popped out of the man’s neck as Draco’s spell continued to strangle him slowly, his body struggling the entire time, before he finally fell straight on his face. A smirk grew across his face as the lasso retracted itself. That was

The other eight people still waiting to be executed stared in fear, many of them shaking vigorously. “Unless anyone else would like their end to be that theatric, I suggest you avoid doing anything foolish”, Draco told them, before proceeding to finish the job. He didn’t have to use Garrotio again, but he wanted to.

The thought of doing this once a week was even...exciting.


The first thing he did when he got home was go straight to his study and open a bottle of firewhiskey. He had been drinking and unwinding from the day’s work for a few hours when a knock came at his door. He knew who it was, but didn’t say a word.

“Evening, Granger”, he nodded at her when she opened the door, raising his glass and then tipping it back. What do you have for me this evening?

“I think we should talk”, she stated, fiddling nervously with her fingers. Draco fought not to chuckle at this.

“About?“, he asked, forgoing the glass this time and drinking straight from the bottle. He knew exactly what she was referring to, but he was going to make her work for it all the same.

“About last night”, she stated, crossing her arms and lifting her nose in the air.

“I told you it was fine, you didn’t know it was my mother’s dress”, Draco told her, leaning back in his chair and looking out the window.

Her breath caught, “not that”, she told him, looking down at her shoes. He slowly turned to look at her in challenge.

“Then what?“, he asked teasingly.

“ know”, she hesitated, clearly becoming nervous and unsure.

“I’m afraid I don’t”, Draco said, sounding cold this time. His eyes dug into hers, he was growing tired of waltzing around it, but was too stubborn to let her shimmy out of it.

“Draco Malfoy, can you not be so impossible for just once in your life?“, she shouted at him angrily now. You want to play, Granger? Let’s play.

“What? You want to discuss how easy it was for me to steal the air from your lungs? To make you wet with barely any effort? Imagine what I could do if I really tried”, he asked her, removing his feet from atop the desk and standing, clearly looking down at her even from across the room.

Her face went red, ”Excuse me?" He loved the way she was squirming from his harsh words, and he wanted her to squirm for him in more ways than that.

His long legs strode over to her casually, looking at her like he was a predator and she was his prey. In his mind, that’s exactly what this was.

“Bet Weaselbee couldn’t do that for you. Bet he never did, am I right?“, he said, backing her into the wall and pressing hands on either side of her head. He quickly grew impatient when she didn’t respond and decided to command her, “Tell me.”

“No, he didn’t”, she said before slapping her hand over her mouth. Draco chuckled, his eyes darkening. Just as I thought.

“And I did? Tell me that, Granger”, he said with a growl. He was already growing hard through his pants from the interaction, her reactions, everything about her. He wanted her badly, and he needed to know that she did too.

“Yes”, she squeaked through her fingers. Draco bit his lip. Fuck, she means that.

Granger’s expression grew angry instead of embarrassed before she shoved Draco in the chest as hard. Draco staggered back a few steps, his expression shifting to one of confusion. Did she not just admit what I do to her? And she’s mad about that?

“On second thought, forget it. There’s nothing to discuss. I suppose I was lonely. Although I’m not sure what your excuse is”, she said harshly, turning to leave and slamming the door behind her. Just lonely? Bullshit.

Draco stared at the door long after it had closed behind Granger. He was shocked by her boldness, her claim that she was simply lonely. Her accusation in asking what his “excuse” was. He didn’t need one. He did it because he wanted her.

Images of her in that dress flashed in his mind, lining her curves, the bare skin of her back peeking out. He remembered the way her soft neck felt under his lips, the way her hips felt beneath his fingers.

Sure he had teased her in school, and teased her even now, but he wasn’t sure what she truly thought of him. She most likely thought that he hated her because of her parentage, but he didn’t. He never had. She was simply in the crossfire of his hatred for Potter and Weaselbee, which wasn’t her fault, but it wasn’t his job to keep her out of it either.

Draco had never really and truly noticed her until recently, she just blended into the trio. But now, she was what he saw day and night, there with him or not. They had a couple moments here and there recently, but last night was...different. He understood why she wanted to talk about it, he assumed she felt it too. But how do you go about addressing something you don’t understand?

Seeing Granger in his mother’s favorite dress had infuriated him, but it infuriated him even more that she looked so stunning in it. He hadn’t been able to help it when the words spilled from his lips when he followed her to her room.

As much as he wanted to blame primal instincts and basic human wants for his actions the night before, he couldn’t. Every move he had made was deliberate. He knew what he wanted, and he would take it if it was within his grasp. He just never imagined wanting her, and so badly at that.

She was thrust upon him by the Dark Lord for unknown intentions, but he never wanted her to leave now. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when the time came to bring her to the Dark Lord. He had already promised himself, she wouldn’t get hurt on his account.

All he knew was that she was slowly but surely consuming his mind, and he wanted her to consume his body. He wanted to consume hers. Take his time exploring it and claiming it. He wanted last night again, and more. But could he have it?

It took so much out of him to care about his parents and lose them - his mother by death, his father by terrible choices. He wasn’t sure he had it in himself to feel for anyone else, and yet there he was. And when Theo died? That was truly the last straw.

What worried Draco was that he already felt it happening, felt something. Even when he and Pansy had actually been together back at Hogwarts, none of their time together felt like kissing Granger did. How being around her did.

She was a pawn in the Dark Lord’s game, and no good could come from whatever was forming between them. He needed to stop it before it had a chance to become anything. But he simply couldn’t. Even teasing her with his words in his study sent a delicious amount of adrenaline through his veins.

But she hadn’t reacted how he thought she would. He thought she would argue, push his buttons, be difficult as usual. Ultimately, she said she was lonely, which was very much akin to desperate. And he could understand that. But she was right...what was Draco’s excuse? He didn’t have one. Sure he was lonely, but that wasn’t why he kissed her. And he got the sense that Granger knew that.

It didn’t go as expected, but he supposed it was the outcome he wanted. Or at least part of him wanted. He pushed her away slightly, but now all he wanted to do was march straight to her room, take her on any available flat surface, and make her his.

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