She Came From India

They say that once you taste blood you want more. Draco pondered this thought over and over again, as he lay on his dormitory bed. Perhaps he had not tasted Ruana's blood - not yet anyway - but that one single kiss that they had shared had made him dizzy for days. It made him clench up whenever he had heard her voice, and sweat whenever he saw the back of her robes swirling around a corner. He found himself pursuing her, almost in a trance, dazedly following her to her classes. She never noticed, of course, as he always seemed to stay out of sight. He was missing meals, misplacing homework, and even forgetting to comb his hair back in the mornings.

Ruana sat at the Gryffindor table. On the rare occasion that Malfoy came to dinner, she always found herself watching him like a rabbit would watch a wolf, or some other predator. Sometimes, she even found herself watching him as a lover would watch their paramour. This night was one of those nights. The bewitched ceiling was swirling with stars and storm clouds, and she couldn't keep her eyes off of him. That last encounter with him had scared her, but had not diminished her feelings for him. On the contrary, each day she was worried to find herself thinking of him more and more. They were both confused by this heated wave of emotion that had crept into their bodies, ravaged their sixteen-year-old hearts, soaking into their brains.

Draco felt someone watching him. He turned his head, and his eyes squarely met with a pair of unblinking green ones. He could feel his knees grow weak, and his heart shuddered painfully in his chest. The hand that was holding his fork started shaking, and he had to put the utensil down on the table.

"Ruana."

Ruana kept on staring at Draco, not even hearing the incessant voice beside her.

"Ruana." This time, her name was repeated with a little more force.

"What?" Ruana's head swiveled quickly, her voice filled with anger and impatience. Stupid people, always bothering me. No, she thought, stay bloody calm.

She found herself looking at a startled Ron.

"I was just going to ask you to pass the mashed potatoes," Ron said, wide-eyed.

"Oh. Sorry." Ruana picked up the bowl and passed it to Ron. Ron stared at her warily as he took the bowl from her and slowly turned back around.

Ruana kept on singing an old Muggle song that she had heard once... something about the taste of India. She didn't know why, but it was stuck in her head, and she hummed it and sang the words all the time now.

God I love the sweet taste of India

Lingers on the tip of my tongue

Gotta love the sweet taste of India

Blame it on the beat of the drum

After dinner, Draco brushed past Ruana in the hall, and the words that she had been singing were now branded in his mind:

This time I'm gonna get it right

She's gonna whet my appetite

Just looking for a little taste, taste of India

She'll steal the smile right off your face

"Watch where you're going, idiot." Malfoy's voice rang out and echoed inside the hallway. Ruana clenched her hands into balled fists. Keep composed. Don't get angry.

"I'd watch out if I were you, Malfoy," she spat out bitterly. "You're not the only one who has a mean streak."

A derisive laugh was the only answer Ruana received. She ground her teeth as she forced herself to turn on her heel and keep on walking. She had to keep the blood from rushing to her face. She had to keep from turning on him and ripping out his throat and smearing his blood all over the dank horrid hallway walls. She felt her nails digging into the skin of her palms as she strode away, not really knowing where she was going.

She ended up outside, walking aimlessly. The cold night enveloped her as she gasped for deep breaths. Lately, her anger problem had been getting more than just a little out of hand. Nobody knew how enraged she could get when bothered, and she liked to keep it that way. She had taken anger management courses back in India, and she supposed that they had helped, but in the past few weeks, her temper had been nearly getting the better of her more than it should. She remembered the one time that she had actually let it get out of control, shuddering in disgust at the memory and the monster that she had become.

"Ruana, Ruana, you're so dumb."

"No." Ruana tried to shut her eyes to block out the painful reminiscence, but it didn't help.

"You can't even kick a ball straight. You can't even do your homework right. You're no use."

The taunting cry came from Kieve Forrester, one of her acquaintances back in India.

She was eight, and Kieve was eleven. Their parents had forced them to play together.

She remembered that day as if it were one of her birthdays. How could she dare to forget?

"Stupid, dumb Ruana." Kieve's tongue was sharp for a boy of eleven. Why was he even insulting her? It was just something for him to do. Something for him to do. She despised him.

"Shut up, you little frog spawn scum." Ruana could feel her anger rising up in her as her hands began to clench and unclench in a disturbing sort of rhythm.

Kieve laughed, being the irritating, contemptuous kind of pre-teen boy he was. "You're a bitch." He seemed to be enjoying her obvious anger.

"No..." Ruana shook her head. "Don't do it," she murmured. "Please don't do it." Her face tensed as the memory progressed.

Ruana felt her face growing hot.

"Please. Just. Stop." Her words were choppy.

Kieve smirked. He was a nasty little boy.

"Shut up you little bugger, "he snapped at her. "Look at you! You look like a hunched-over Firecrab or something. Grow up! I'm older than you, I know more than you."

Ruana took a deep breath. "Kieve, don't make me do something that I don't want to do. Please just leave me alone." He made a face.

"As if. You can't do anything to me, you Mudblood." Ruana's cry of rage and surprise was soon muffled as she sprang towards him.

"Stupid, stupid little shit..." Ruana was leaning up against one of the many trees in the Hogwarts grounds , oblivious to the bitter cold that was turning her lips blue. She could still remember the taste of blood in her mouth, the rage that an eleven-year-old boy would dare to call her family that name.

"Never ever ever ever never!" Ruana was sitting on top of the boy, her small fists lashing in and out, coming up streaked with blood and tears.

"Stop!" Kieve was trying to shield his face from her barrage, his nose bleeding, his lips split. One of his eyes was swollen already.

"No! No! You little piece of scum, I hate you, I hate you!" Her anger was taking her over as she began crying.

Ruana felt the tears slide down her face. Try as she might, she couldn't get the look on Kieve's face that day out of her mind. It was burned in there forever.

Ruana felt strong arms dragging her away from the bloodied boy. She was sobbing and screaming. Kieve wasn't moving. Blood pooled in the dry dirt beside his face. His lips were mouthing unheard words. And that's when Ruana collapsed, darkness conquering her.

Ruana wiped her eyes in vain. Never again could she let her temper get like that. She had only been eight, but the damage she had done was sufficient. Kieve and his family moved away, and she had never heard from them again. Her parents had sent her to a counselor and, after that proved futile, to an anger management class.

Ruana sighed. She wanted to be perfect, but that was a useless dream. No one could be perfect. She hated her temper. It was like she lost complete control when she became angry. She knew that the day would come at Hogwarts when something would set her off and then what would she do?

Suddenly, a large snowflake fell onto her eyelashes, making her .Winter had come early, and the biting wind was whistling around her numb ears. She hadn't even noticed the cold. Her fingers were frozen as she reached down to retrieve her soggy books, and brush the clinging snow off of her robe.

As she walked slowly back into the school, Ruana wasn't even aware of the grey eyes that were gazing down on her from a high window.