"Holy fucking shit, I was fucking weird when I was 14" Is what this Author thinks: Have you guys figured out that this is my favorite part of the writing process? Writing the Author’s Note, that is? I love just blabbing for a bit. It makes me prepare for the long hour of writing (which has rules that I must follow) I’m about to endure.

I Was Dared to Love You (A Draco Malfoy Love Story)

Chapter 20: Answering Question Fifty-Five

--------| Violet’s POV |---------

--------| Time Travel *woosh* |--------

            My feet pittered and pattered as I streamed up the staircase at top speed. Painting after painting called to me, asking if I was okay. Of course I wasn’t okay! Why in the world did it have to happen to me? What had I ever done! Racing into my room, I slammed the door behind me, not bothering to answer any of the girls who hadn’t had a date who had been sitting and chatting in the common room. No one was in the room, so I shuffled over to my bed and snuggled securely under the blankets. They were stiff and chilly, but I could live with that. Eventually they would warm up. Shoving my head underneath the pillow, I thought about how well the week had been going up until this night. A few insecure tears raced down my cheeks and melted into the sheets on the pillow but other than that, I was completely zoned into remembering.

            It had been going so smoothly. Draco and I had met. Sure, because Hermione shoved me into Draco and I crushed him with my dead weight. But hey! How else were we suppose to get in contact again, without trying to kill each other? It had been a simple meet-and-greet minus actually wanting to get to know each other. It was the best we could do on short notice.

            And Step Two had been a semi-breeze. I mean, yeah, I didn’t have a clue what was going on but it still worked, right? We had acquainted hadn’t we? Hermione had planned it all with Ginny the night before, I’d embarrassed the kadoodles out of myself in front of the entire class, and I ended up with a quill that wasn’t even mine, but in the end, Draco and I had become “friends.” So a big fat ‘complete’ for that one.

            Then there was the accomplishment of Step Three. I’m pretty sure that was checked off with (undoubtedly complete) on the Operation MALFOY parchment. I wasn’t quite sure what had caused it to be ‘undoubtedly’ complete but hey! I was more than one hundred percent sure that we had passed that Step. Draco had accepted my asking him to the Winter Ball, went dress shopping (even got the Guy Routine of being late down pat), and danced with me when he clearly wasn’t a big fan of it. All in all, that Step had happened without me even realizing it.

            Now, Step Four? Don’t even get me started. Without my consent my neck and cheeks got hot remembering Draco’s lips against mine. They had been cool to the touch yet a warm tingling had raced through my veins. Smiling, I remembered the sweet look on his face as we separated. He had that smirk of his, but this time it was a thank-god-she-didn’t-slap-me smirk. Vaguely I recall his arms had perfectly fit around my waist and our hips had locked together like lock and key, made for each other.

            So what had caused this uproar in our Cloud 9?

            Oh, that’s right. Our very own Ronald Bilius Weasley.

----------| Time Traveling Back *whish* |----------

            What did I think of Draco Malfoy, my Analysis Project Partner? Or Draco Malfoy, my wonderful date to the Winter Ball? If I had to choose between the two, I wouldn’t choose either. Partner Draco loved to humiliate me and Date Draco claimed I didn’t like him. I liked Draco Draco, that kid from First Year who said my hair was pretty.

            “What do I think of my partner? Well, sometimes … he’s a prick. The worst kind of prick too. Loud, obnoxious, conceited, hot-headed, full of himself, you know the type. Other times he won’t shut up about blood status. Claims being pureblood makes him smarter or something,” cue dramatic eye roll here.

            Draco was looking at me as if my head were screwed on backwards, which I very might as well have. Everyone in the room was peeking at us, trying to be inconspicuous and failing. Professor McGonagall was smiling happily and Professor Snape was strutting down the aisles, snapping students back into attention (by slapping a small book on their heads, of course). I could see that he too was looking over here and smirking every so often.

            Taking a breath, I begin to continue my answer to the question, “Other times he acts all high and mighty, like ‘Oh, I’m Malfoy bow down, bow down.’ Total drag, he is. This one time, he was kinda nice but that was a while ago, doubt he remembers. But anyway, I think he’s confusing. I can’t seem to get a good reading off the guy, you know? I mean, one minute I’m thinking, ‘Hey, I just might like this guy to death’ but another, I’ll be thinking ‘Man, I wish the Avada Kedavra spell wasn’t Unforgivable so I kill this git.’ But other than those moments of Jerkdum, Draco Malfoy is an all-around nice guy.” Smiling, I resay everything I had said aloud in my head, checking for any mistakes.

            “Um …” came Draco’s voice beside me.

            Staring hard into his beautiful, confused, gray eyes, I say, ever wittily, “Are you going to write that down or not?”

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unique-goddess