Year two. Thoughts Without Actions.

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Rotten! Nasty! B- beautiful...? Draco had been thinking a lot over the summer. Thinking about a lot of things. Quiddich, the newest brooms, school, being better then POTTER, but oddly... mostly apples. Green apples.  What could he do?

"Shut up brain," he muttered angrily. Cheeks flushing pink with rage,  he slammed himself onto the bed.

"Draco? Are you alright?" Narcissa  opened the door. 

"Fine mother. Can you leave?" Pushing her dark hair away from her face, she left the room. Draco was mortified. No one could know his feelings. Even HE didn't know what he was feeling. 

___________________________Time skip to Hogwarts________________________________  

Marcus Flint, was bothering him again. He waved a round green apple under Draco's nose. 

"Don't you want the apple? It's delicious..." Young Mr. Malfoy ignored him, and continued eating his treacle tart. "Come on Draco. You're being ridiculous! It's just an apple." Stuffing more tart into his mouth, Malfoy tried to ignore Marcus. But a pinkish tinge crept up his neck. A sure sign of anger.

Crabbe and Goyle laughed stupidly along with the others. Draco snapped.

"SHUT UP! WHY DOES IT MATTER THAT I DESP-" He stopped about to say despise. "Dislike." He swallowed hard. He couldn't bear to say despise. "Why does it matter that I don't like apples?" Marcus dropped the subject.

That night, as he lay in bed Draco though of apples. He thought of the crunching noise they made when you ate them. He thought of the smoothness of the skin. He had to have one.

Thinking quickly he pulled off his green silk sheets and crept slowly out of the dorm. He tiptoed into the Comon Room and stopped at the door. He stood there pondering the question of going or staying. He reached for the knob,hesitantly. No he couldn't do it. He sighed and returned to bed.

Drapple: Through the Years {Completed}حيث تعيش القصص. اكتشف الآن