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Draco Malfoy had been watching in the same direction for a long time.
Since he sat down at his house table and saw it there, leaning on the table... He had not been able to take his eyes off it.
The blond couldn't understand. He couldn't understand.
How could that little being make him feel so many emotions one after the other. Draco was attracted by its shape, he was attracted by the nonchalance with which it was standing there, next to one of the plates of meat from which Goyle was taking food.
Why couldn't he do the same? Why couldn't he take it and carry it away from the Great Hall?
He had to do it.
He had to put his lips on its soft skin and taste every single piece, slowly, to make that moment last as long as possible. And then Draco did it. He stood up.
He stretched out his arm sensually.
And grabbed it.
His lips touched its skin and he finally got a taste of it.
It had a strong flavor that permeated every part of his body. And then Crabbe spoke.
“Malfoy, why are you making that adoring expression? That’s just an Apple.”