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He gave her a dry smile. “Maybe you want me. Desperate little slag, you are. Always finding an excuse to put your hands on me.”
In what made for a terrifying moment, she returned his smile with an equally sardonic one. Somehow, it was more horrible than her scowl.
She then took a step closer, her chest barely inches from his. One of her hands braced itself on the edge of the counter as she pressed up onto her toes. Her face was inches from his. He could see the finest details: that the rims of her ears were red, that the same color was softly dusted across her cheeks, and that one of her lashes was careening downwards, threatening to poke her eye in her next blink.
He recoiled. “What do you think you’re doing? I’ve got standards. I’d sooner castrate myself.”
That unpleasant smile twisted higher.
“So then why did your mother just ask me to date you?”
TLDR:
- voldemort died in the graveyard
- seventh year quidditch rivalry
- fake pr relationship engineered by one narcissa malfoy
- harry potter is jasmine potter
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Ch 45
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4