Draco malfoy

Dracos week had been, to put it lightly, going shit

First saint potter shows him up in transfiguration when he accidentally makes a little golden retriver

Then potter gets him a detention although the mudblood deserved it

(I am copying another story from another website here so i can add to it)

The following days seemed to only get progressively worse. Somehow, Daphne Greengrass – a fellow fifth-year Slytherin from a neutral pureblood family – had been charmed by Potter, although at this point, Draco was hardly surprised. Even Snape of all people had eventually come to form a cordial friendship with his former enemy! Still, it was the loss of Daphne that made Draco's blood boil with rage.

Although she did not believe in blood purity, this did not detract from the fact that Daphne Greengrass was, as Weasley had once so eloquently put it, "all tits and arse, with a pretty face". Daphne's face was indeed pretty, with high cheek-bones, perfect teeth, and plump lips. It helped that she wore minimal make-up, enhancing her sharp blue eyes, unlike the whores from Gryffindor (excluding Granger). However, it was her body that truly made an envious man out of Draco.

At fifteen years of age, many of the girls throughout each house were quite evidently a long way from developing a womanly figure. That wasn't always the case, as Brown and oddly enough, Granger disproved with their larger-than-average busts and derrieres. Even Draco had to catch himself from openly ogling Granger's backside as she walked past him; if only she wasn't a mudblood, which was why Daphne was the woman of his lustful fantasies and dreams.

Woman, because that was what Daphne Greengrass was compared to the girls of Hogwarts. A statuesque goddess that towered over him by several centimetres (and at 1.77 metres, he wasn't quite a small person), the usually modest Hogwarts uniform did little to conceal her mountainous chest. It was like comparing Brown to the flat-chested Weasley. The view of the back was equally as pleasing, to the point where Draco could never keep his eyes off of those round arse-cheeks straining against the confines of her short, tight skirt. If there was one thing that he didn't hate/dislike about Potter, it would be putting his friends through a vigorous exercise routine, as the results were clearing showing in Daphne's toned, fit body.

Draco had tried to seduce her a year ago, with an invitation as his date to the Yule Ball being the first step. Unfortunately, the offer was rejected with an icy cold glare, and a blunt (yet no less courteous) statement about how she would never ever consider going out with the likes of him. To say the rejecting had stung was… an understatement, especially when he saw her at the Yule Ball with Blaise Zabini, wearing an exquisite crimson silk dress that clung to her bodacious figure like a second skin. Her matching five-inch heels increased the height disparity between the two of them, which only added to her sex appeal.

Daphne had paid him no mind that night, and all Draco could do was grit his teeth at the incessant shit that came out of his own date's mouth. Although, this had done nothing to quell his fantasies later that night, when he imagined how she would come up to his room to "apologise" down her throat and then her arse in doggystyle, as she screamed out in ecstasy to be his pureblood bitch. In his fantasies, she kept the heels on, as he fucked her over and over again.

Daphne, the woman who should be his, had to go and fall in love with Scar-head – and of course, that love was reciprocated. Only Weasley was reserved, if not also openly antagonistic, at least initially. Then, lo and behold, Potter worked his magic and anti-Slytherin Weasley became an amicable acquaintance with her. Was there anything he couldn't do?! God, how Draco despised him! Even so, what could he possibly do against who seemed to be Merlin 2.0?

Ironically, it was actually overhearing a conversation between Daphne and her half-blood friend, Davies, in the Slytherin common room that gave him the perfect idea for ****.

For once, Draco was genuinely minding his own business whilst completing his potions essay, when the entrance of the common room opened up and out came Daphne and Davies in an animate, albeit hushed discussion. As he was lying down on the long, black leather sofa, they could not see him.

"Calm down, Daph! What is so nerve-wracking about a picnic? I swear, you two have been sucking face-"

Daphne narrowed her eyes, as if daring for her best friend to continue. As a Slytherin, Tracey did not, out of a sense of self-preservation.

"But seriously, though. Sometimes, it feels like you're under a love potion – and yes, I know you and Harry have detection methods against them. All you have to worry about what could be a momentous step in your relationship."

Tracy's tone was light at the last part, though it could be clearly observed that Daphne's smile in return was ****.

"Listen," Tracy sobered. She grasped her hands and held them out in front of her. "You love each other; anyone can see that. If you have anything to worry about, it would be you worrying so much about something, when you really shouldn't."

Daphne took a breath to steady herself and then gazed into Tracy's eyes. A gentle smile formed on her lips.

"Thanks, Trace." She pecked her on the cheek, before immediately rushing towards the girl's dormitories. "I need to get ready."

Unseen by the two, Draco stared at Daphne as she rushed past to her dormitory; the sway of her hips emphasising the heart-shape of her arse and the movement of her rounded cheeks. Once she had disappeared, the plan to take what was rightfully his was beginning to form in his head.

The plan would work. It had to work