𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐍 | 𝐇.𝐏. | 𝟏𝟖+

𝟎𝟎𝟒 - 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞

It took you guys almost a month to get to 50 votes on the last chapter, but nevertheless we got there. If you want the chapters to be published more frequently, hit that vote button too. I'm talking to the +220 people who didn't.  Please, remember that voting is a way of showing me that I'm doing a decent job. It gains me credibility. Enjoy the smut!

BEFORE, JADE NEVER KNEW HARRY POTTER. She knew that he was the Chosen One. Knew he was Hogwarts' beacon of light. Knew he ruled Gryffindor tower with Granger and Weasley.

She didn't know him personally. And, now, he's all she thinks about.

He doesn't leave her mind.

She can't shut him out, not even with Draco Malfoy peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses all over her throat.

All she thinks about is midnight black hair, a lightning-shaped scar, and emerald eyes.

He's like a stain of blood, the persistent one that doesn't fade, no matter the amount of detergent she uses to wash it off. It's insufferable. Tenacious. Like the ones from the war. Those she remembers all too well.

But then Draco's voice crashes over her, like a tidal wave, pulling her away from Potter, back to reality.

"I know you're thinking of him," he says threateningly, breath hot on her skin. "But tell me, Jade, does he touch you as I do?"

His ringed fingers run over the outline of her hip, all the way up to her stomach. He slowly opens the buttons of her blouse, trails his path further towards her throat. Snakes his fingers around it. Squeezes.

She whimpers softly.

"Does he know you like it like this?" he continues, misty eyes fixed on her dark brown ones. "Does he know that you're a dirty, needy, whore?"

He spits out that last part. Accusingly.

She shakes her head.

"Good girl," he whispers, and he presses his lips softly against hers. Rewardingly.

Her lips jerk into a half-smile.

At least she's still good.

But then he says something and it utterly and completely startles her.

"Does he know you're still mine?"

And then she pulls herself away a little and looks at him. Takes him in. The white-silver strands of his messy hair reflect upon the lasers of moonlight, and she recognizes him.

It's just an act, she figures. His eyes give it away, cold but molten around her. He's a diamond flame, that softens around her. He's melted platinum and he just says what she likes to hear.

Because he doesn't want to lose her.

She's all he has.

And frankly, he's all she has too.

But if she's still his?

She flicks her tongue over her lower lip, thinks ferociously. She doesn't think so.

It's the war. The things he's done. She can't be his anymore, can't love him anymore.

His eyes flash with hurt and she ignores it strategically, darts out a hand to touch the high arch of his cheekbone, pulls his head in level with hers.

And when she looks into his cloudy eyes, filled with raw emotion he never showed anyone else before, she thinks of the stormy day in Malfoy Manor, early April, a month before the Order's victory.