A Malfoy By Any Other Name
Chapter One
"My only love sprung from my only hate."
― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
It wasn't a surprise, not really, mused Harry Potter as he gazed at the new sign on the Gryffindor noticeboard. It read-
In light of recent events, the school curriculum will now include more Muggle aspects, to promote and teach equality between wizards, witches and Muggles.
The new changes are as follows; Muggle Studies is compulsory for all to O.W.L. level, and the subject of 'English' will be taught to all as of this year. English promotes good literacy, which is beneficial to all. The subject will mainly focus on teaching eloquence, grammar and traditional literary pieces.
M. McGonagall.
There were noises of outrages and dissent in the common room from many. Harry noticed a few people looking pleased, however none more so than Hermione Granger, who was beaming and quivering with excitement.
"A new class, Harry! 'Eloquence, grammar, and traditional literary pieces...' I can't wait!"
"Fantastic." Ron rolled his eyes at Harry. "Yet another N.E.W.T. class we have to study for."
Hermione didn't seem to hear however, she was busy consulting a timetable. "Wow, we have it every day, first thing!" She looked as though Christmas had come early. Ron groaned, but quickly turned it into a hacking cough, after Hermione's quelling look.
"Who do we have it with?" Harry asked.
"Professor Daley.. I've never heard of them. They weren't at the Welcoming Feast were they?" Harry and Ron shook their heads, neither as interested in the topic as Hermione was.
"Oh, dear." Hermione said suddenly.
"What?" asked Harry apprehensively, glancing up.
"We're having the class with the Slytherins."
"Fuck off." mumbled Ron.
.-.
At Hermione's insistence, they were the first in the classroom the next day. Curiously, the chairs were in rows of four, with no desks in front. Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged. They took three chairs in the back row, ignoring Hermione's protests.
The classroom slowly began to fill up with Gryffindors and Slytherins alike. There were far less Slytherins in the school this year, as so many had left the school after the war, whether willingly or not.
Harry and Ron had noticed gleefully the night before that Gregory Goyle, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson had not returned for their final year of magical education. In fact, the only familiar eighth year Slytherin that had returned was Draco Malfoy.
Harry had not spared him much thought at all in the few months that had followed the war - only to think of him somewhat pityingly. His parent's murders were no secret, and Draco, at age eighteen, was both an orphan and the last in the line of Malfoys.
When the English professor finally entered the classroom, considerably later than even the latest students, the final seat in the back row, next to Harry, was the only vacant one.
"Good morning, good morning, sorry I'm late class, I-" But the poor professor was interrupted by the opening of the door as a familiar figure slouched in, casually biting an apple, as if being twenty minutes late was completely normal.
Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway for at least ten seconds, surveying the class with cold, grey eyes. The class watched, with bated breath, as the professor got visibly more irritated by the second.
Finally, Malfoy swaggered down the classroom, apparently heading towards Harry, who had realised too late that he was beside the only vacant chair. Malfoy collapsed into it, and lounged comfortably there, swinging his feet up to rest on the back of the chair in front of him, to a girl's annoyance.
He did not seem to know or care that a lesson was in session, and that he had just interrupted it.
At the front of the classroom, Professor Daley recovered herself, and wrote a word on the board which was completely foreign to three quarters of the class.
"Can anyone tell me what this word means?"
"Shak -ee- spear - ay?" attempted Parvati Patil. There were several guffaws of laughter.
Hermione's hand had, of course, shot into the air. Professor Daley nodded at her.
"Shakespeare, or to use his full name, William Shakespeare, is considered to be the greatest playwright England has ever had. He wrote hundreds of plays, which are still famous today." she recited, sounding as usual as if she had learnt it from a book.
Harry was, of course, completely familiar with Shakespeare, but Ron was frowning in consternation.
"Excellent!" beamed Professor Daley. "10 points to Gryffindor! Can anyone name any of these plays?"
"Macbeth!" called Dean Thomas.
"Hamlet!" said Lavender Brown.
"A Midsummer Night's Dream!" Hermione added, unable to stop herself.
"Romeo and Juliet." Harry added, quietly.
He saw Malfoy's head twitch slightly beside him.
"Who the hell are they?" asked Ron, baffled.
"Well done, Mr Potter! Romeo and Juliet! Our project for this year! As part of the Ministry's new initiative to bring equality between Muggles and our kind, you shall be learning, and performing the ultimate Muggle love story!" she announced, beaming.
Several girls, including Lavender Brown and Hermione sighed happily. Harry heard Ron, and many other boys groan.
He thought he could just make out Malfoy muttering "Ridiculous." as well.
"The star crossed lovers! Two households, both alike in dignity!" quoted Professor Daley, with a look of rapture on her face.
"You what, miss?" scoffed a Slytherin boy.
"The story of Romeo and Juliet - surely everyone knows it?" She noticed blank faces, and hurried on.
"Two rival houses - not much different to Gryffindor and Slytherin-" she noted thoughtfully, to general jeers. "The young male heir of Montague house-" Harry noticed Malfoy move suddenly again, "-falls in love with the young female heir of Capulet house. But their houses are forever at war with each other, and they must keep their love a secret. 'My only love, sprung from my only hate!'" she quoted dramatically.
Malfoy had now sat bolt upright in his chair, with a peculiar look on his face, that Harry couldn't place. Malfoy glanced sideways at Harry, and their eyes met for the first time for months.
Harry half-expected a sneer, but one didn't come. He and Malfoy had been through an awful lot; Harry had been to his manor after all, where Malfoy had saved his life, Harry had then wrestled his wand from him. In turn, Harry had saved him from the FiendFyre when he could have just left him.
He had witnessed this boy clinging desperately to his waist, hollering in his ear to fly faster, as the flames licked around them. As Harry looked at him, he was sure Malfoy was remembering the same thing.
They didn't just share school boy rivalry anymore, it would seem.
Harry was brought back to earth with a sudden jolt, when Professor Daley called his name, and he wrenched his gaze from Malfoy's, and his head snapped to the front.
"Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy!" she was saying "If you could please pay attention! It would seem you find each other far more interesting than Romeo and Juliet!"
"Hey miss, maybe they could be your Romeo and Juliet!" someone shouted, to many catcalls and jeers.
Professor Daley, however was considering this thoughtfully. Harry felt a feeling of dread wash over him. Oh god, no...
"I wonder.." he heard her say. "From rivalling houses and families.. Dark and light.. Old history.. Ancient grudge break to new mutiny... Yes." she seemed to have reached some conclusion, unaware that no one had understood what she had been saying.
"Yes I think that would be perfect." Harry gazed at her, horror struck, dimly aware of Ron sniggering next to him, and Malfoy retreating as far back into his plastic seat as he could.
"Mr Potter, I'd like you to play my Romeo, and Mr Malfoy, you'll be my Juliet. Ancient grudge, break to new mutiny indeed." she rubbed her hands gleefully. Ron snorted.
"Are you fucking kidding?!" Malfoy said loudly.
Professor Daley gaped at Malfoy, who looked utterly disgusted and shocked. Harry wouldn't have at all surprised to hear "My father will hear about this!". Except Lucius Malfoy was now dead, he remembered.
"Mr Malfoy!" she exclaimed, recovering herself. "Such language will not be tolerated!"
Malfoy laughed sarcastically. "Do you really think I'm going to star in some poncy muggle love play? With Potter? This is a joke." he added, sneering.
"I'm not asking you. I'm telling you." said Professor Daley quietly. "You will play Juliet."
Malfoy sat up suddenly, strands of blonde hair falling into disarray and into his wide, angry eyes. "Juliet?!" he let out a laugh which completely lacked amusement or humour. "I'm not playing a fucking girl, miss. In case you hadn't noticed, there's a whole class full of them."
"No, no!" Professor Daley interrupted, rubbing her hands gleefully. "This is exactly how Muggles traditionally acted out this play! Girls weren't allowed to act-" Hermione exhaled loudly and angrily. "-so a boy would always play Juliet! This play will be completely traditional and true to its original form!"
"So Potter and Malfoy have to be gay together?" a Slytherin boy said incredulously, smirking. The classroom burst into laughter, and Malfoy blushed an angry red.
"Certainly not." Professor Daley said, flustered. It would seem she sensed she was losing her control on the class. "They are just acting. And the kisses and er- sex scene-" Laughter erupted through the classroom, and Harry buried his head in his hands. Ron's sympathetic pats on his back were rather ruined by his sniggering.
"-the sex scene.-" repeated Professor Daley louder still, "will be approached- er- tactically. It will, of course be all acting..."
Malfoy leapt out of his seat at his point, and throwing Harry a look of deepest disgust, he stalked haughtily out of the room.
The class immediately broke into "Ooooh"'s and "Get you!"'s. Once the babble had finally subsided, Professor Daley hurriedly handed out more parts, assuring the girls they would get just as important parts as the boys - she just wanted Juliet to be a boy.
"Who are you?" Harry asked Ron in an undertone, who was staring baffled at his script.
"Some bloke called Mercutio?" he offered, scratching his head.
"Good one. You're my best friend." Harry informed him.
"I know I am?" Ron said, confused.
"In the play, you plonker. You get killed by Juliet's cousin, and when I avenge you I get kicked out of town."
"Oh. Wacky story this." Ron commented.
"It gets worse." Harry promised. "Wait until you hear the end."
"Why? What happens in the end?"
"Juliet takes a potion that makes her appear dead to everyone, so she doesn't have to marry this bloke called Paris, only Romeo doesn't get told it's a fake potion, and thinks she's dead. He drinks some poison and dies. Juliet wakes up a second later, and stabs herself 'cause Romeo's dead."
Ron's mouth had fallen open. He closed it wordlessly, blinking at Harry.
"That's... twisted. A Muggle wrote that?
But where's the moral?"
"Moral?" Harry laughed. "Why should there be a moral?"
"All wizarding stories have one.. The story of the Three Brothers obviously, Babbitty Rabbity and her Cackling Stump..."
"Nah, most Muggle stories don't have one." Harry assured him.
Hermione bounded up at that moment, beaming.
"Who're you?" Harry asked, a little grumpily. He was still sour about being Romeo.
"The Nurse." Hermione smiled happily.
"That's gr-" Harry began, but was cut off by Ron.
"A sodding nurse? Hah- I'm Mercutio." he boasted, drawing himself up proudly.
Hermione stared at him, and gave an angry hmph, before stalking off.
"What did I say?" said Ron, astonished. "Women..." he muttered, shaking his head.
Harry nodded his head, absently looking at the door Draco had ran out of.
"Yeah. Women..."