Diary of a Slitheryn Girl Warning: Explicit nature
Tuesday 14th September
William was scared. The thought of Avery scurrying to tell someone about our secret terrified him; his whole life was at stake, and he could say farewell to Hogwarts forever if the Professors found out. The school had a no tolerance policy bravado to uphold against the Dark Arts, but I knew what goings-on they had let slide in the recent past, and I’ll tell you about them one day. If you’re brave enough.
William was also furious with me. He blamed me for forgetting to cast a charm over it, to conceal the ugly truth of what he did. But then again, who would ever believe that a Gryffindor scarred a Slytherin with the dark mark. Not even me. I was completely and utterly screwed, no matter what the truth was. No one would believe the pure blood tales of a Malfoy.
Somehow, possibly with sheer fear, William had managed to convince Avery to keep quiet about the unveiling. I tried not to think about the terror and panic that would surely be tumbling through her mind, but the guilt still latched onto my thoughts at every possible vacant moment. A sweet girl like Avery shouldn’t be troubled with such a disturbing secret.
A scuttling scratched the bookcase opposite me, the candle I used for light wavering me into darkness for a moment. I looked about the Library, sure someone was spying on me. My first suspect was Alaric, he’d certainly been known for it, but scouring into the shadows I found only empty space.
In my lap rested the Parseltounge book, scribbled with notes. I had stolen it from Alaric, a difficult task to carry out, too intrigued by the scrawling not to find out more. It had proved worth while, for although I did not know who had wrote them - as if I had any idea how to find out - their writings were most interesting.
For the most part, it was correcting grammar, of which there seemed to be may mistakes that I had not even noticed myself, but then there were other things that confused me. Directions, it seemed, or at least a description of a place, were scattered on different pages. A particular line kept cropping up to do with neither.
The hated with be celebrated.
I closed the book, glancing at the Dark Mark on my arm. I was going to be among the hated now. Avery had not spoken to me since our trip to Hogsmeade, and had avoided me in our History of Magic and Defence Against the Dark Arts classes. Would she understand the purpose behind it, even if the purpose was not mine?
“Calantha?” A voice called behind me. I jumped, not recognising it at first, and then was met by someone familiar; his name was Stewart Remington, and shared a lot of classes with William. Also a Gryffindor prefect, he was a little stuck up, but harmless.
“Yes?” I asked, shoving the book into my bag. Stewart nodded his head toward the door expectantly. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”
“William wants you.” He sighed impatiently, tapping his fingers on his arms.
“It’s past curfew. He’ll have to wait till morning.” I retorted with the same impatience, standing up to leave.
“And you’re in the Library after hours. He’ll expect you to make the same effort to see him.” Stewart smirked, “Meet him in the prefects bathroom.” He left without another word and I followed soon after, a little relieved that he had not asked to meet in the dorms. It must be about what happened Saturday, perhaps something to do with Avery. I hoped not.
I found it easy to direct myself through the corridors without been seen by the Professors. It was a talent I had discovered in my first year. I was at the prefects bathroom within ten minutes, and hesitantly walked inside.
The room was lit with candles, mottled flames of gold and red glimmered across the marble tiles, cascading across the bath that frothed with silver bubbles. I stood, numbed, in the doorway. A gentle hand pulled me inside and closed the door behind me.
“Hello sweetheart.” William smiled, kissing me lightly on the forehead. He was in his boxers, something I hadn’t seen before, and was glad that he pulled me into his chest as not to see me blush. He was toned, more than I thought, almost a man’s body, and I melted into him.
“Wow,” was all I could manage to murmur.
He tipped my chin up, gripped my jaw and kissed me hard, pushing his tongue into my mouth. I tried to remember that I hated him, but his lips turned my brain mush. I was rendered completely defenceless. William slipped his hands inside my cloak and brushed it from my shoulders; it fell with a soft thud on the floor, but loud enough for me to realise what was happening.
“What are you doing?” I asked, stepping away. He caught my hand on his chest and I forced myself not to crumble this time. It was only a body. William’s soul was disgusting. Strange how so much could shame in such sort time.
“What do you think?” He laughed, grabbing my hips. “Hey, don’t forget what you promised me.”
“I don’t think this is a good time.”
“We need this. After Saturday…” He tried to kiss me, loosing his words.
“I said no, William.” I snapped, bending down to pick up my cloak. “I don’t want to.”
William lost it. As I turned back to face him, his fist came smashing into my cheek. I didn’t scream. Too shocked and yet it was exactly what I had always expected. He grabbed my hair, his blue eyes like sea fire, and dragged me to his face.
“Do you want me to remove it?” He barked, snatching my wrist and holding it up to the light. “Or do you want it on there forever? Well…do you?”
“No.” I spat quietly through gritted teeth. His face softened, the fire calming; his iron claw trickled to gentle fingers that ran through my hair and he rubbed my check, looking on me with pitiful eyes.
“I do this because I love you, and sometimes you don’t know always know what is best for you, or best for us.” He kissed my forehead again, curling his fingers on my shoulders. “I’m going to do great things, and you’ll be by my side when I do them.”
I clenched my jaw. “What about this, is this one of your great things.”
William looked at the mark. “I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want it, but it was something I had to do. It’s going to work, and when it does, you’ll be glad you were a part of it.”
I said nothing in return. He bit his lip, expression thoughtful. I tried not to cry but the pain was still burning in my face. Hot, lifeless tears rolled from eyes. William looked at them once, but his composure gave nothing away.
He started to unbutton my shirt. I went numb as it fell from my body, the faint thumps of my clothes just audibly, until I was left standing naked in front of him. He took off his final garment then pulled me into the bath. I saw nothing, because I purposely tried not to look.
The water was hot and soapy, and we slipped alongside one another. His skin felt odd against mine, slick and warm, so alive. He caged me in his arms on the side, static hopelessness spiking me senseless. It was too late. His beautiful face was inches from mine, chest to chest, his muscular tanned body pressing into me. The soft edges of his lips pouting, lining across my bruising cheek. His black hair had dampened with the steam, curling slightly.
His weight pushed me down, my hair devoured by the foam and water. William opened my legs with his and I could feel his change stiffen on my thigh; he looked me in the eyes one last time, then lowered his head to kiss my neck. I had nothing to compare with, but it felt like something I couldn’t handle. I braced my body, tightened by mistake and stifled a cry as he pushed himself into me.
It hurt. I wanted to shove him off, tell him it was wrong, but William could sense it before I had time to act and clamped onto me, thrusting harder. Hee grunted my name a few times, tried to soothe me, all the while becoming rougher, going deeper.
I clasped my fingers into his back, digging into his flesh. It only spurred him on more, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. Eventually, I think it became less painful, maybe I even found my way into his cruel rhythm, but I’d drifted into another world. I wasn’t really there anymore. I was nothing.
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