The Troll

The Troll

Millicent Bulstrode rued the day she was born.

Of course, it was always nice to be alive. There was no problem with that. No, Millicent decided as she sipped some punch, living is all it's cracked up to be... and then some, she smirked as she watched Blaise Zabini dancing across the floor in front of her. He was dressed as a pirate, with a cocked hat, half-buttoned shirt, and long leggings that ended in scuffed leather boots. The shirt and leggings clung to his well-built form as though they were made expressly for him. Yes, living was worthwhile if it afforded her the privilege of gazing at a well-rounded ass like Zabini's. After all, the stocky Slytherin could appreciate beauty just as much as the next person.

But that beauty grated on her nerves, like salt rubbing into a well-seated wound.

She had arrived at the Halloween Masquerade earlier that evening, fully intending to live up her last year at Hogwarts. Despite her appearance, Millicent was not a stupid girl; she was well aware of the fact that the males of her class found her repulsive. Every time she looked in the mirror, Millicent found that she agreed with them. She had a strong jaw and a square face, with broad shoulders and a brutishly thick neck. She had no chest to speak of, and her waist was indistinguishable from her hips.

Millicent had watched her school mates the past seven years, and saw how they reacted to each other once they hit puberty. She had watched Pansy Parkinson grow from a pug-nosed, whiny brat into a scheming queen of whores. She had seen Draco Malfoy change from a pointy-chinned stick of a boy into one of the most sought-after boys in school. Even Harry Potter had morphed from a tow-headed four-eyed freak into a tall, dark, and handsome man with dazzling green eyes. But Millicent had merely gotten taller and filled out even more, until she looked like a veritable box underneath her school uniform.

"That's it," Millicent had declared to Pansy two weeks ago. "I've had it with ogling every other idiot in this damn school. It's time for a makeover."

Pansy adored makeovers, and had sequestered Millicent to the Prefects' bathroom immediately. Before the blonde, blue-eyed witch got started, Millicent decided that she would use the makeover to make a grand entrance at the Halloween ball. So, the girls plotted and planned for two whole weeks about Millicent's attire, hair and makeup.

When the ball finally arrived, Millicent arrived fashionably late. She was dressed as a barmaid, complete with a low-cut dress and flouncy ruffles. Her mousy brown hair had been curled into ringlets, and was tucked under a jaunty mobcap. Her makeup had been applied by none other than Miss Parkinson, and a mask covered her entire face. All in all, Millicent though she made a fetching sight.

To her dismay, no one had batted an eyelash when she sauntered into the Hall. She had moved to the punch table, anxiously hoping that someone would see her and ask her to dance.

That had been nearly an hour ago, and she was still waiting near the punch. She was offended from the subtle snubbing that she had received, and that feeling had turned into general discomfort. The dress had started to cinch her waist painfully, and she was now incapable of regular breathing, existing on shallow puffs of air. The neckline was low enough to tease everyone with a view of her assets, but now it seemed accentuate her woefully flat chest and lack of curves. Even that bint's breast-enhancement charms were useless, Millicent fumed as she glanced down at her dress. Of course, they always seem to work perfectly well for her. She craned her neck around the room, searching for that blonde twit, but she couldn't find her anywhere.

After a few more moments, Millicent slammed her goblet onto the punch table and decided, No more bloody watching. Spitefully, she poured the rest of her goblet's contents back into the punch bowl and walked away from the table. She ambled around the perimeter of the room, searching intently for any available males. The only ones not dancing were Longbottom and some Hufflepuffs. She shuddered at the thought of dancing with those bloody ponces, and continued her search.

Two more circuits around the room left Millicent in a foul mood. She was being studiously ignored by the multitude of males, and it was driving her batty. If she couldn't find a dancing partner at a masquerade ball, where no one saw her face, how was she to find anyone to love? It was better to just up and die at this point.

Nearly bursting the seams of her awful costume, Millicent let out a loud huff of indignation and maneuvered her way out of the Great Hall. No use in pretending to have fun when I'm bloody NOT, she reasoned as she weaved her way through the crowds. Once she had escaped the confines of the Hall, she picked up her skirts and raced for the dungeons. Millicent was usually not given to sulking and tears, but at that moment, she wanted nothing more than to wallow in self pity.

However, she couldn't rein in her emotions, and found herself spitting out the password to the Slytherin common room through a haze of tears. She began to rush off to her room, but stopped still in her tracks at the sight that met her eyes. In the common room, on a black, leather sofa, lay Pansy and Gregory Goyle in various stages of dishabille. Millicent knew her mouth was gaping open in surprise, and she moved to shut it when she let out a startled croak. Pansy and Goyle immediately looked up, and moved away from each other quickly.

"Millie!" squealed Pansy as she attempted to straighten out her clothes. "What- why are you here, darling?" Her voice became sickly sweet with fake interest. "You should go back and enjoy yourself!"

Millicent frowned and muttered, "I wasn't enjoying myself, you bloody wench."

Pansy paled and she opened her mouth in concern, when Goyle interrupted, "Why weren't you enjoying yourself?" His face was contorted with confusion, in true Goyle-fashion.

"Oh, Gregory," Pansy simpered, "It isn't polite to ask such things." She looked at Millicent with concern and pity. "Are you sure you're all right, dear?"

Seething because of the pity in that pug-nosed bitch's face, Millicent bit out, "I'm fine. I'll be going now." She gave them both a final glare and stormed out of the common room.

Tears started flowing down her cheeks as she stomped aimlessly through the castle. She really had no idea of where she was; she only remembered trudging up and down some of the moving staircases. Bloody parents were so horny that they had to have me, she fumed as she continued on blindly. Couldn't stop shagging long enough to prevent giving birth to a troll of a daughter.

She veered off of her path, and kicked at a stone wall angrily. The troll who's the ugliest thing in this school.

Another vicious kick.

The troll who doesn't have any friends because she's a Slytherin and ugly, to boot.

Kick.

The troll who was never loved by anyone, and never will be.

She slammed a palm into the wall, and kicked it again in outrage.

The troll who-

She would have continued this vein of thought, if she weren't interrupted by a breathy female, moaning, "Oh, Draco."

Millicent looked up in surprise, and glanced around to see if anyone was watching her. She didn't see anyone around her, but the pause in her thoughts led her to realize four things. One, her foot was throbbing painfully. Two, her palm was skinned from the rough stones that it had rubbed against. Three, her nose was running in a very undignified manner. And lastly, she was practically in full view of anyone who wanted to venture into that hallway.

She immediately picked up her skirts and limped down that hallway as fast as she could, searching for a tapestry or alcove to duck into. Further down the hallway, she found a large tapestry. She lifted up one end of the heavy cloth and slipped behind it, panting from exertion and the tight fit of her dress.

Before she could resume kicking the wall in earnest, she heard some muffled movements and faint moans. Curiosity got the best of her, so Millicent peeked around the tapestry's edge again. She still couldn't see anyone, but the moaning and rustling continued. Just as she was going to duck back behind the tapestry, she heard a light slap and an indignant female cry out, "Stop it! We promised we'd wait!"

That voice is awfully familiar, Millicent thought as her ears perked up. I wonder who it is... She began inching her way behind the tapestry, trying to determine where the girl was by following her voice.

"He's taking forever," a tenor voice whined. That's Draco, all right, Millicent snorted to herself as she continued to creep towards their voices. Wonder who he's shagging this week?

"I don't care," the girl replied petulantly. Keep talking, Millicent silently pleaded. Go on, keep-

"Well, I can't help it," Draco paused, and Millicent heard a loud, wet smack, "if you look like that." There was another smacking noise.

The smacking noises were evidently kisses, for Millicent could hear them more clearly as she neared them. She had reached a corridor at the end of the hallway which led to two unused classrooms. Millicent flattened herself against the wall, and peered around the corner cautiously.

She saw Draco earnestly snogging a brown-haired girl, pushing her up against a stone wall. Millicent peered at the girl, but the flickering oil lamp in the corridor prevented her from determining the girl. She did notice, however, that the girl was dressed in a costume similar to Millicent's. Well, not entirely similar, considering that the girl's bodice was open, allowing Draco to cup her breasts, Her skirt was hiked up her thighs, allowing her to wrap her legs around Draco's waist for anchorage. The girl's arms were thrown limply around his shoulders, for he was clearly the aggressor in this particular saliva exchange.

Millicent watched the faint light glitter on Draco's pale locks as they shielded his face and hers. The girl's legs and arms were pale and nearly translucent against Draco's black robes. Millicent smirked to herself when she realized that he was dressed as a vampire. He obviously fits the job description if he can latch onto her throat like that, Millicent observed.

The girl began protesting, but her words were punctured with soft mewls of pleasure. "No- really, Draco- I- oh- Draco, please-" She tried to push against his shoulders, but Draco merely moved to cover her lips with a deep kiss. After a few moments, Draco broke away with a muffled curse.

"Bloody-" he began, as he brought his hand to touch his injured lip.

"Let's wait," the girl interrupted insistently. Her hands were curled in fists, which rested on her hips in a stern manner. It's not possible to be stern when you're in that position, Millicent laughed to herself. After all, her legs were still firmly twined around his waist. She looks about as stern as a- Merlin!

All of the thoughts flew out of Millicent's head when the oil lamp suddenly illuminated the girl's features. GRANGER? Millicent screamed silently as she stared. HERMIONE Granger? As in, Potter's best friend, Head Girl, know-it-all Granger? No, it must be the light-

But as she continued to stare at the girl in Draco's arms, Millicent couldn't deny that she was, indeed, Hermione Granger.

"-and we promised to wait for him. Honest, what would we say to him when he finds that we've already started?" Granger finished in a bossy tone.

Draco shrugged and replied nonchalantly, "I'll just say that you couldn't resist my charms."

Granger gave him a mock glare and crossed her arms over her chest. "I can resist your supposed charms quite easily."

"Oh?" Draco replied with a feral grin. He moved closer to her, until their lips were nearly touching. "Let's try that claim of yours, shall we?" he murmured. Before Granger could protest, he kissed her.

Millicent was entranced by that kiss. Even though she was not experiencing it herself, she could see that it was gentle and sweet. Granger moaned and tangled her hands in his hair, pushing herself against him. Draco pushed back at her just as insistently, moving his hands to rest on her hips. They continued kissing and uttering gentle moans; Millicent watched with interest as Draco's hands moved slowly to stroke Granger's thighs. He lightly traced her smooth, outer thighs with his fingertips; He moved his arms under her thighs and supported her weight with his forearms as he hoisted her up the wall a bit further.

Granger groaned lustily as his lips moved across her jaw and ear. Millicent was so fascinated by the scene in front of her that she could feel her nipples harden with want. If only someone kissed me like that, she thought longingly. She gazed at Draco, marveling at his pale beauty and obvious mastery of skill. She was distracted by his hands, which were fumbling against his belt. Dear Merlin, Millicent gasped silently, are they really going to shag here?

Millicent's throat went dry as she watched him free his member from his pants, and use his hand to press it directly between Granger's thighs. Is she wearing knickers? Millicent wondered, but was startled by a squawking noise from Granger.

She was frantically trying to push at Draco's shoulders, but his mouth stayed firmly attached to her neck. "DRACO! No-" she stopped and let out a moan of pleasure. Then, remembering herself, she continued, "STOP! Don't-" Draco swiftly covered her mouth with his, preventing her from finishing her thought.

But Granger was not so easily distracted; she finally broke off the kiss and panted, "Don't- don't- put... that there!"

Millicent nearly giggled out loud like a ninny at Granger's choice of words. Draco was also smirking at her, and he licked his lips suggestively. "What's wrong, Hermione?" he purred. "Are your lips too virginal," he drew out the word so that it sounded positively sinful, "to say what 'that' is?"

Granger opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a male's voice, "What's this? You've both started without me, then?" Blaise strolled out of one of the classrooms and crossed his arms over his chest, clearly amused.

"Blaise!" Granger squealed, causing Millicent to wince in pain. That's one ear ruined, she decided as she watched Draco and Granger untangle themselves from each other. The minute her feet were on the floor, Granger launched herself into Blaise's arms. Millicent's eyes widened when she saw Blaise sweep his hat off in one grand motion, cup Granger's face in his hands, and kiss her senseless. Why, that little tramp! Millicent fumed. She turned her eyes to Draco, how can he just stand there?

Millicent's eyes nearly bugged out of her face when she saw that Draco was watching them kiss with something akin to lust in his eyes. In fact, he strode over to Blaise and Granger, placed his hands on their heads, and threaded his fingers through their hair, as though urging them on. What the bloody hell? Millicent was completely flummoxed at this sight.

Blaise soon broke off the kiss, and whispered to Granger, "Will Hogwarts' best Transfiguration student please transfigure a bed big enough for us?" She grinned up at him and nodded wordlessly. "Thanks, love," he whispered and kissed her nose lightly.

A bed? And who else- Millicent let out an audible gasp when she realized that Blaise and Draco were now snogging quite thoroughly. They stopped the minute they heard her gasp, and Blaise looked around the corridor carefully. "Did you hear anything, love?" he asked Draco in a soft whisper.

"No," Draco replied with a pout. He tapped Blaise's shoulder and said petulantly, "We weren't finished."

Blaise turned back to Draco and grinned. "No, we weren't." Draco slipped his arms around Blaise's waist, fully intent on picking up where they left off, when Blaise stopped him and said, "Let's join Hermione. I don't like it out here; it's too quiet."

Draco frowned, but Blaise didn't even look at Draco as he dragged him into the classroom, and shut the door quietly.

Millicent was completely floored by the exchange she had just witnessed. To think that Hogwarts' best looking Slytherins are shagging a Gryffindor... and each other! She turned away from the corridor and rested the back of her head on the stone wall behind her. Even worse, they're two purebloods, shagging a mudblood!

She stood there for a few moments, trying to get her mind around what had just happened; no matter how much she tried, she just couldn't understand it. What does that mudblood have that I don't? she wondered enviously. Granted, she's a sight better-looking than I am, but still! That mudblood was even wearing a costume like mine! She gazed down at her attire with a sneer. I suppose those bloody breast-enhancement charms worked for her too, the bloody bint.

There were also the unexplained emotions she had experienced when she had seen Blaise and Draco kiss. She had merely envied Granger and longed for Draco while they were snogging, but watching the two most eligible boys in school slobber over each other had reduced her to a puddle of desire. There was something intoxicating in the way that they had touched and kissed, for they were passionate and reverent. I wish someone would treat me that way, Millicent thought with a heavy heart. But you're the troll, remember?

That one thought hardened her heart and mind. Yes, I'm a troll, and there's nothing I can do about it. I might as well continue my existence and forget about love. With that, she turned on her heel and set off down the hallway, back towards the moving staircases.

As she scampered down the shifting steps, she thought about a way to occupy her time. There's always Crabbe, she reasoned, but he's probably too inebriated at this point. There's no one else in the Great Hall that I care about, so I might as well enjoy the night. She departed the steps and walked to the window. As she peered outside, she noticed the clear sky and a crescent moon.

Perfect, she grinned as she rushed to an exit and rushed out onto the grounds. The night was even more beautiful than she had thought. A gentle breeze cooled her senses, while the grass beneath her cushioned her feet, which ached from the ridiculous heels that she had squeezed on. Moonlight reflected off of the lake, while the rest of the water seemed like a river of velvet, stretching beyond her reach.

Millicent plopped herself down under a tree, and gazed at the water. Although she seemed to be pleased at the sight before her, she was really forlorn. Does rejection have to be this hard? she mused as she picked at the grass by her feet. Is it too hard for someone to act as though they care about me? I may not be pretty, but I'm pureblooded and rich; surely that counts for something?

She yanked a patch of grass out of the ground, thoroughly disgusted with herself. Well, I guess I'm not good enough for anything or anyone. I'm just a troll, destined to live my life alone. She began breaking the stalks into small pieces as she stared out at the water. She continued to sit there for an indeterminate amount of time, her mind and soul empty with sadness.

"Oh, Gregory," a familiar voice gushed. "Isn't the water simply beautiful?" Millicent snapped out of her thoughts instantly, and twisted her head around. Sure enough, Pansy and Goyle had decided to enjoy the night as well. Millicent started to get up, hoping to escape unnoticed, but Pansy's eyes were too quick. "Millie!" she called, as she dragged Goyle to Millicent's resting place. "You gave us such a scare earlier, darling. I was so worried that you were upset!"

Millicent finally rose and looked Pansy in the eye. The blonde twit was eyeing Millicent with fake concern, while her eyes seemed to be calculating something. Millicent was about to make an excuse, when she stopped herself. There is no way in bloody hell that bitch was thinking about me while she was snogging that half-brained lump! "Come off it, Parkinson," Millicent replied coldly. "You never have and never will care about me, and we both know it. So why continue the pretence?" Millicent shot her an icy glare, and swept off to the castle regally.

As Millicent entered the castle again, she gloated over Pansy's shocked expression at those words. That felt good, she grinned as she leaned against a wall, resting her forehead on the cool stone. Then she shook herself. I'm a bloody Slytherin; I should have merely played along and left. But she couldn't deny the warm feeling that suffused through her when she had scoffed at Pansy. If it always feels this good to tell the truth, then that would explain Gryffindors, she thought wryly.

Still pleased about her performance with Pansy, Millicent decided to try going to the Great Hall again. It is my last year, she reasoned. I might as well see what the others are up to. Mum will enjoy the gossip in my next letter home.

As she entered the Great Hall, she was nearly daunted again by the sheer number of people. She steeled herself and headed straight to the punch table. To her surprise, She found Blaise there, mask and hat firmly attached to his head.

"Blaise," Millicent nodded amiably at him as she helped herself to a drink.

"Millie," he replied cordially, staring at the dancers as he sipped his punch.

Millicent joined him, and began to watch the dancers while sipping. She was dying to talk to him about what she had witnessed, but was too frightened to admit that she had seen it. What happened to the girl that shot down Pansy? she reprimanded herself.

After much inner conflict, she finally said archly, "A mudblood, Zabini? I wonder what your parents would think."

He turned to her and smirked. "So it was you watching, was it?" he asked easily. Millicent merely looked back at him. "Anyone else with you?" She shook her head discreetly. "Well, my parents wouldn't be too surprised." She snorted and turned back to look at the dancers. "What can I say? I was born a naughty boy!"

She smirked and looked at him. "Did that naughtiness include shagging a boy and a mudblood?" she asked with mock innocence.

Blaise sighed, and asked, "All right, then. What'll it be?"

Millicent frowned in confusion. "Pardon?"

"What do you want," he asked resignedly. "Obviously, we can't have you blabbing to everyone."

She smirked and asked disdainfully, "Are you bribing me, Blaise Zabini?"

He huffed in indignation. "Oh, come off it. I know you've got something in mind, so just say it."

Millicent bit her lip thoughtfully, and turned back to watch the dancers. They look so beautiful, she sighed longingly as she watched a couple flit past. I wish-

With a decidedly Slytherin glint in her eyes, Millicent stated, "Dance with me."

"What?" Blaise asked, clearly startled.

"You heard me, Zabini," she replied with a steely voice. "Dance. With. Me."

He set down his punch and grasped her hand. "Then let me have the honor of dancing with you, my lady," he said with a gallant bow and a quirky grin. Millicent nearly laughed out loud at his ridiculous expression. Instead, she set her goblet down and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor.

As his arms wrapped around her waist, she mused about her night. Well, she conceded, this getup didn't render anyone helpless to my charms. She looked at Blaise, and found him grinning at her. But my Slytherin wily did. She smiled back, and they began to move. Perhaps there's some hope for this troll after all.

Finite Incantatem