In the land of Gods and Monsters

Malfoy entered his room.

Normally he would have fallen onto his bed.  But no, not tonight.

He turned towards Granger’s room. 

Who knew the delicious taste of self-destruction better than he?

And besides....

Who the fuck sets someone on fire and then goes to bed. 

Certainly not him.

How much farther into the dark could he go?  What could he do that might possibly be more fucked up than setting someone on fire?

'I always wanted to fuck that little cunt.' He paused, thinking of all the times that she made it her point to humiliate him. 

Oh yes, the prospect of raping her--and he repeated the word one more time just to get a better sense for how vile the act was.

Rape.

Yes, it seemed far more enjoyable, even more so than covering Thorn in third-degree burns.

Grinning from ear to ear, he pulled his shirt off but miscalculated that thing called balance. 

So he stumbled into the wall while he clumsily jerked his shoes off.  These he tossed over his shoulder, not really caring where they landed, before beginning to work on his trousers.  Those went off too, along with his briefs.

He had just opened her door when he realized something important.

I need to piss.

And while the idea of literally pissing on Granger seemed alluring, he knew that the reality was far messier than the fantasy.

So he turned around and went towards the bathroom, taking care of this before turning back towards her room.

‘Gran-ger,’ he sang like a child, ‘come out and plaaaayyy.’

And for the thousandth time he thought, I am so fucking fucked up.

He squinted in the dark, and saw the covers were on the floor, and she was not in her bed.

‘How unusual.  Granger, not in bed…’ He lifted the corner of her quilt, eyes following the end.  It looked like someone had left in a hurry.

‘Are you in here Granger?’ He sighed dramatically and placed his hands on his hips, rocking back and forth on his heels, ‘I came all the way here.  For you.  And look what you do.’

He went to her vanity and picked up a small china dog.  ‘Hmm, cute.’  He turned around, ‘I wonder who gave this to you?  Potter?  That filthy blood traitor Weasley?’ 

He laughed softly, ‘OR MAYBE IT WAS YOUR FILTHY MUDBLOOD PARENTS?!’ And he threw it at the wall, delighted by the sound of glass shattering.

A sharp pain distracted him and he placed his hand on his head. It was a couple seconds but then it receeded.  He blinked into the darkness.  And shivered.

He felt excited.  Emboldened.  Alive.  Like he were the hunter and she the prey.

And he was certain she was still in the room.  Unless Granger was giving head to one of the professor’s—unlikely but still a nice idea—he knew she was in here.  Cowering.  Because that was what her kind did.

Filthy ugly cowards.  Worthless. 

In a more calm mood, he began to circle her room, studying her book shelves.  He pulled down one volume.  ‘Ah.  I see you have all the classics.’  He tossed it over his head.  ‘Read this one too.  Read them all.’  And he began to pull books from the shelves, tossing them around the room. 

When he ran out of books he turned back to her bed.  And in spite of himself felt the blood rush to his dick.

‘Her-mi-o-neeee,’ He purred, stroking the now massive organ, ‘I know you’re in here.’

He slowly circled around the bed, and felt a smile, not a nice one, split his face when he discovered the presence of her wand.  Like a hawk he swooped down and snatched it, fingering the delicate wood.

‘Who did you have to trick to get one of these?’ And with cruel satisfaction he snapped it in two.

‘Oops.’

And let the pieces fall to his feet.

Draco stared at the remains.  He stared for several moments, until the image was burned in his mind.  A light headedness came over him and he stumbled backwards. 

And that was when he saw the rug, and the odd angle at which it was pulled.

Pulled…

As if someone had kicked it…

He looked at the darkness beneath the bed.

And bared his teeth.

Found you.