it's okay to stare at me, i understand🖤

24

POV: Mira

"Everybody out!" I say, entering the common room. People stare at me blankly. "Did you not hear me? Get. Out." I scream. Everyone scrambles to leave. I run my hand through my wet hair. This is not good.

I just gave my first kiss to Harry fucking Potter. All for a singular mission. This whole thing could've been accomplished without kissing.

Well....maybe not. Potter is going to be obsessed with me now, and nothing else could've created this effect. So I guess well done Malfoy. 

The worst part about this, however, wasn't that we kissed but that I actually enjoyed it. I liked kissing Potter. It made me feel good.

I shiver realizing I'm still soaking wet. I make my way upstairs to my room. Pansy is sleeping peacefully in her bed. I glance at the wall to see it's 1:23 am.

I sigh and head into the bathroom. I stare at myself in the mirror. My green eyes hide behind black frames. I look odd.

My wet curls cling to my face and appear black. My lips are rosy pink. 

Only minutes ago were they on Potter's. His skin was soft. Smooth. And his hair. It fell all around his face. I like it better when it's dry but it was easy to run my fingers through while it was wet. So silky.

Why am I still thinking about him? I'm literally going to kill him. I can't think of him like this. 

The water that cleanses me reminds me of of only an hour ago. He kissed me against my will. I still kissed him back....but I didn't want to. Or did I?

I just need to get this over with. 

Is Potter really that bad though? Do I really need to kill him? 

I finish my shower and walk over to my bed. I sit cross-legged and read through some of father's old letters to me. His words were already glued into my brain but I think I just need a reminder of who I am. 

I'm a pureblood. Daughter of deatheaters. Born into power. I need to assert my dominance just like father and mother did when it was their time.

Nothing will command peoples' respect unless if I kill someone of great significance.  I remind myself that Harry is that person. The Lord wants him dead anyways. 

Father. He'll be so proud of me. I know he will. He'll see me just as he used to see mother. Addicted to the power. She took all she could, and gave nothing back. Camille never listened, she did as she pleased. And that's why I loved her.

I reread that same line over and over and over again. Father will love me more. I have to do this. I'll kill Harry at the ball. I sleep on that particular thought.

"Today we will be brewing a pepper-up potion; turn your books to page 757 and begin." Snape says, not a single emotion in his voice. I get up to find Malfoy, who is unfortunately my potions partner.

"You get the ingredients." he says, already with a cauldron in his arms. I need to be more like him: assertive. No one would say no to him.

I nod and grab our materials. The salamander blood smells fresh. Oh how I love the smell. We don't need a lot, but I grab an entire bottle, just for the scent.

"Wow," Malfoy says as I set the ingredients down on the table.

"What?" I ask, not looking up. I rearrange the order of materials, for easy access.

"Potter won't stop staring. It's embarrassing on his part," he says, clicking his tongue in disapproval. Potter's looking at me? I mean it's not like I didn't expect it. But still.