Slytherin's Lion

CHAPTER 4
WHO COULD IT BE?

I tucked the rose petals under my pillow. I don’t know what it was—I felt something giddy bubbling inside of me—maybe it was just the realization that somebody knew who I was, someone cared for ME of all people! Memories of the dream I’d had last night made my skin burn as dressed for the day. I then decided, well, if someone was watching me—especially if he’s Blaise—I guess I could do something special for him.

Okay, so it was nothing drastic. I left the top three buttons of my shirt undone, but I’m telling you, this was a big step for me. I looked into the mirror at my reflection for a minute before realizing that I was being watched by one of my roommates.

Millicent had just woken up, and she’d swung her legs over so that they dangled over the edge of the bed. “What are you looking so happy about, princess?”

I blushed. “Oh, nothing, I just—um…”

She looked very amused. “Dressing up for someone?” she asked knowingly. When I didn’t respond, just stared at my feet, she got up and went through one of the drawers on her bureau. “If you’re gonna do it,” she said, “better do it right. Come here.” I saw that she was holding a couple glass bottles and a pouch presumably filled with makeup.

“Oh, I don’t know… I normally don’t really…”

Millicent blanched. “Like that’s working so well. Come here. It’ll be fun.”

I figured why not—it was Saturday, and we didn’t have anywhere to be except for breakfast. This was the most Millicent had said to me in a long time, and I found myself liking that familiarity. I guess it’s a hard life, trying to get through school without friends—acting more like a Ravenclaw than either a Gryffindor or a Slytherin, I supposed.

And now it was Hufflepuff time—I was supposed to get excited about putting gunk in my hair and on my face? Well, at any rate, I let Millicent smooth some kind of oil into my hair. It’s usually already straight, but it’s so thin that it gets really wispy and whatever Millicent put into it made it thicker and I found myself even thinking that it looked nice.

“Don’t worry, lovey,” Millicent giggled. “I won’t take anything away from those baby blues.” She told me to look up as she applied mascara—that thing was so frightening it could count as some sort of weapon—insult me and I’ll stick your eye out! She dabbed at my lips with something shiny and sticky and when I looked back into the mirror I could barely recognize myself. I looked like I should be on the cover of Witch Weekly!

Millicent smiled at her handiwork and then said, “Okay, so I’ve done something for you; you’ve got to do something for me. Spill. Who is it?”
She didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t know, not until told her about getting the note from the secret admirer in a dream—other details of the dream I chose to keep to myself.

“You dreamed this?”

“Yes,” I responded, “but when I woke up this morning I still had a few rose petals. I know it’s real.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it…but who could it be? Whoever it is must be sort of good at Legilimency, don’t you think? Since thoughts are more vulnerable while we’re asleep…”

It did seem to be the most plausible explanation. Unfortunately, it didn’t narrow my choices down too much—most of the Slytherin House had had some sort of training in it from Professor Snape, our Head of House.

Millicent invited me to have brunch with Pansy and a couple other friends as soon as they all got ready. “People are so much more attractive when they look like they have a lot of friends,” she said without thinking. When she clapped her hand over her mouth, realizing what she’d said, I just shrugged. I knew I didn’t have friends. The whole Slytherin title kind of put off everyone from all the other Houses. I agreed to eat with her; it was better than slipping food into the library, and besides, Millicent was friends with Blaise and I wanted to see his reaction.

Blaise, Draco Malfoy, and a sixth-year boy that I didn’t know were waiting for us in the common room as we came down the stairs from our dormitories. I could see their eyes scan over me in question, probably wondering why I looked the way I did or why I was following Pansy and Millicent down the stairs.

Pansy said “Rose’ll be eating with us today,” without a care and the rest of them just shrugged and seemed not to care either. Except for Blaise.

Oh, he looked amazing. That olive skin and dark hair that looked so shiny and soft, glinting copper… the Gilderoy Lockhart smile that shone brilliantly white directly at me… Me?!

“Morning, Rose,” he smiled. He muttered in my ear, “Good thing I’m hungry, because you look delicious.”

“Hi,” I said breathlessly back, but not so vapidly that he would be able to tell that I’d dreamed of him last night. I do have some self control. I am a pureblood, after all.

I felt eyes on me in the Great Hall, and noticed that Harry Potter had stopped chewing to stare at me. Could he be the secret admirer? No—he wouldn’t know who I am; he hates Slytherins anyway. I never cared much for Harry Potter… I mean, yeah he was the Boy Who Lived or whatever but he didn’t really have much to do about it. I feel like his entire lifetime has been his attempts to prove that he deserves all his fame.

That was awfully, meanly Slytherin of me. I was a little bit shocked at myself right after thinking it.

I saw Draco tilt his nose as we passed Gryffindor. “Looks like Potty and the Weasel have got something to say to you, Rose.”

“No,” I replied; “Too busy exposing mouthfuls of half-masticated beans and toast to the world as if their mommies never taught them to eat. There’s not space in their mouths for breath or words.” It was true. It was quite disgusting.

Draco seemed very pleased with my answer. “We weren’t all raised with such high standards,” he said as he clasped a hand onto the small of my back to lead me to the table.

I very much enjoyed being seen with the big names of Slytherin. Yes, Hogwarts, I had friends and look who they were! I was very satisfied with myself for even making conversation while sitting down.

When the food appeared magically before us, I noticed another tiny scrap of paper beside my plate. I planned on tucking it into my robes to read later, but the ink on the front read, “Open me now.” Underneath the table, as discreetly as I could, I read the note. “I hope you did not mind my little bit of magic tricks last night. I had to show you what I imagined doing to you myself. Now, let everyone show you what they want to do to you.”

Still wondering what that note could mean, not to mention who could be sending these, I was caught off guard on my left to notice a large, male hand in Pansy’s lap, rubbing her through the fabric of her trousers. Embarrassed, I quickly turned my attention across the table, but did not find any comfort. Vincent Crabbe, one of Draco’s friends, and Millicent were engaged in an open liplock, tongues visibly fighting. Crabbe pulled Millicent into his lap; she even brought up her knees around his body as she straddled him; her privates must have been rubbing right onto his stomach.

“Millicent!” I gasped her name in surprise at her actions. We were at the breakfast table! I received no response. In fact, it didn’t seem like anyone was even noticing what was going on. None of the other Houses turned to look, and … the teachers seemed not to notice anything awry…what?! All of the Slytherins were going at it! Some were kissing, some were fondling heavily—Pansy by this point had taken off her blouse and her large breasts were jiggling wildly under Blaise’s hands.

I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help but look at the events transpiring around me. I had been aroused all night and even as I woke up this morning. It seemed I was having visions, because the Slytherins did not seem to be able to see or hear me, either.

Next to me, Draco had grabbed the fourth year next to him, a freckled, red-haired girl looking a little bit similar to Ginny Weasley. His eyes fluttered shut as the girl kneeled in the aisle, bent her head over his lap, and took him into her mouth willingly. I did not stare, but out of the corner of my eye I could see her head bobbing up and down and his hands gripping the edges of the table as he exhaled. His body began to take over; he seized her head and forced her even closer to him as he pumped violently, moving faster and faster, fucking her face. As his body began to jerk uncontrollably, he grasped my hand and looked me straight in the eye, his own gray eyes dancing with fire.

But with that one touch, the illusion was gone and I was back at the breakfast table, the fabric of my sleeve barely brushing against Draco’s cuff.