Title: The Temporal Heart
Rating: R (Warning: some chapters will contain 'hard' R).
Author: Green-Eyed-Serpent
READ: Draco x Harry slash. No homophobians allowed here.
Summary: Lions. Serpents. An ex-team Captain. Butterbeer. Parties. Photos of a naked Harry Potter. And Malfoy in LOVE??? NO WAY! Many more oddities to baffle your mind. Just read and see if you can piece the puzzle together.
Disclaimer: Although I'm convinced that this is highly stupid and unnecessary, I will declare once more that this story is written by me with complete respect towards JK. Rowling and Warner Bros. End of discussion.
Chapter One Something like a Wronski Feint
The roar erupting from the loaded stands was deafening.
It was a mixture of angry hisses, horrified screams, and enthusiastic hoots.
Red, gold, green, silver. The colors flashed from every side of the field in a dizzying whirl while above all the resonance, a single voice boomed dramatically, trying to keep up with everything that was going on in the center of all the raucous.
"And Finnigan's got the Quaffle! He passes to Creevey- who passes it back to Finnigan- he's nearing the goal! He's gonna attempt a shoot- OH MY BLOODY WORD-"
Noise exploded once more as a black blur whizzed past the player who was clutching the Quaffle, missing him by mere inches. The boy was thrown off course and ended up dropping the red ball in surprise.
"Foul play there from the Slytherins- leading fifty to forty! Will they continue to raise the score or will Gryffindor fight back and claim the game? Now Slytherin in possession- Nott takes the Quaffle- Weasley is close on his tail- a spectacular pass to Montague- he's taking the chance! He's racing down the field- COME ON GRYFFINDORS! DO SOMETHING BEFORE-"
There was a loud thwack and Montague could be heard cursing furiously as the same Bludger came pelting at him, hit by one of Gryffindor's Beaters, Andrew Kirk.
"EXCELLENT DEFENSE BY KIRK! But Slytherin's still in possession! Montague's got no choice but to pass- Warrington picks it up, they've still got a ways to go- BUT WAIT! Here comes Gryffindor's favorite Chaser! As tiny as a twig but incredibly fast- doesn't look like the Slytherin Chaser has noticed him ye- UNBELIEVABLE! CREEVEY MANAGES TO STEAL THE QUAFFLE FROM UNDER WARRINGTON'S ARM!!!"
Three fourths of the spectators were jumping up and down wildly, cheering on the blur that was supposedly Dennis Creevey. He was always famous for his speedy and blink-of-an-eye robbings of the Quaffle.
"Creevey in possession! He's faster than a hex from a wand! He's not even bothering to pass! He's just going to shoot- AND HE SCORES! GRYFFINDORS ARE TIED WITH THE SLYTHERINS!!! FIFTY POINTS!!!"
Dennis Creevey grinned madly before turning his broom around and flying back toward the center of the field.
"The game is back in play! Slytherin in possession! Montague has the ball! This time it looks like he's going to pass- it goes to Nott- And brilliant dodge there from a Bludger- he passes to Warrington- who passes it back to Nott! Montague's shooting towards the goal hoops- he's wide open for a pass! Nott attempts it- and Montague catches it effortlessly! OH NO! WHERE HAVE ALL THE GRYFFINDOR BEATERS GONE? Weasley is the only one left to defend the three goal posts! He's looking terrified! And... DAMMIT! Slytherins score again! They're back in the lead! Sixty to fifty!"
The smaller section of the stands that were waving green flags, were stomping their feet in excitement and furious cheering could be heard, almost drowning out the boos coming from the rest of the school. It was a sore sight to the Slytherin-loathing eye.
Unfortunately, it didn't stop there. The tyrant Slytherins looked as if a fire had been lit inside them and they were all smirking cruelly at their opponent players.
"Ready to lose already?" Montague, the Slytherin team captain sneered loudly as the players faced off again.
The Gryffindor team shot him angry glares; Dean tightened his grip on his Beater's bat menacingly, looking as if he'd like nothing more than to ram it against Montague's thick skull.
The shrill whistle blew again and Ginny, who was starting off with the Quaffle, shot up into the air while Dennis and Seamus split in opposite directions. It was time for their emergency tactic.
The Gryffindor Beaters were flying along side two of the Chasers. It was their job to block any Bludgers coming their way so that the Chasers could have an open shot at scoring.
Andrew, who was flying beside Ginny, gave her an encouraging smile before noticing a second too late that Goyle was on the other side of Ginny, raising his bat to strike at the Bludger before him.
"WATCH OUT!" he yelled and he dipped beneath Ginny's broom in one swift movement to try and protect her. He managed to get in the way but instead of the Bludger hitting his own bat, it slammed into his stomach and with a gasp, he was thrown off his broom.
Ginny's face paled and she halted in midair, her eyes widening as they followed the fast fall of Andrew's limp body.
"ANDREW!!!" she screamed in horror.
And it was all a nightmare for the Gryffindors from there.
Ginny had dropped the Quaffle in shock, which was skillfully picked up by Warrington, who passed it to Montague, who passed it to Nott- and another goal was in favor of the Slytherins.
The score was now fifty to seventy.
"Pathetic." a voice drawled from above the rest of the game. "Can't even keep possession of the damn ball for twenty seconds."
"Shut the hell up Malfoy." Harry snarled furiously. He wasn't in a good mood at all, and he definitely wasn't in the mood to put up with any of the piss-head today. "Shut the hell up."
Draco Malfoy sneered and let out a cruel laugh.
"You're just annoyed because you know Gryffindor's going to lose."
"In your dreams." Harry shot back. "You lot are just a bunch of sorry, cheating, dirt-fouled scumbags that don't know how to play by the rules."
"Oooh, watch your language Pothead." Malfoy mocked, shifting his gaze back to the game. "Or I'll just have to clean out your nasty mudblood sucking mouth."
Harry fumed. If he wasn't preoccupied with searching for the Golden Snitch, he would have gladly given Malfoy a bloody nose then and there. But instead, he took a long, deep breath and glanced at the large clock on the scoreboard.
Forty-five minutes had already passed since the first whistle and he knew that if he didn't catch the Snitch sometime soon, their chances of winning would become very slim. Slytherin was already twenty points in the lead, and the longer they played, the more exhausted their team would become, and even if Harry did managed to get the Snitch before Malfoy, if their opponents scored enough goals to out-lead them by more and one hundred and fifty points...
Don't panic. Harry told himself firmly. You'll just have to find the Snitch before that happens. And you have plenty of time.
He needed to distract Malfoy long enough so that he could search without the bastard breathing down his neck, shadowing his every move.
What would be a good distraction? He thought desperately, trying to keep his eye on the game while watching Malfoy out of the corner of his eye. Should I try the Wronski Feint? It worked before... Well, it's worth a try.
Fixing what he hoped was a convincing look of determination on his face, he turned his broom around and shot in the other direction.
As he expected, Malfoy came streaking after him, and Harry had to suppress a pleased grin.
But his grin faded when his hawk-like vision saw something tiny and golden fluttering idly to his right, about a hundred yards away.
If he changed course now and went after the Snitch, Malfoy might see it and get to it sooner. He was closer, if only by an inch. Yet, if he continued with his feint as if the Snitch had never caught his eye, then he might lose the chance to find it again for a while.
He could not waste his time weighing the two decisions. The choice to be made was an obvious one.
He jerked his broom handle violently and nearly collided with a surprised Malfoy before both whirled around in the direction of the gold blur crisscrossing through the air like a wrathful bee.
"You fucking asshole!" Malfoy shouted, realizing that he'd just been feinted on for the second time in his life. He tried to kick Harry but missed and a look of utter horror washed over his pale face as Harry shot out towards the Snitch, this time for real.
Harry's ears were ringing with excitement. He knew that he was going to get to the golden ball before Malfoy. They were going to win.
In less then two seconds, he'd closed the distance between him and the Snitch by more than half. He extended his arm out, fingers tingling madly.
And then it was over. The struggling ball of wings was clamped tightly within his fist, and the stands detonated with an earsplitting sensation of color and noise. He soared through the air, circling the whole perimeter of the stadium and pumping his fist over his head, before flying back down to the grass field below him. The second his feet touched the ground, his teammates all jumped on him, crying out in joy and suffocating him with hugs and enthusiastic thumps on the back. He could feel numerous hands ruffling his already messy hair and laughed as Ginny smothered his cheek with happy kisses.
"GRYFFINDORS! GRYFFINDORS! GRYFFINDORS!" the spectators were chanting endlessly from all around and lion-shaped confetti began raining down on them.
A blinding flash went off and Harry turned his head to see Colin Creevey holding up his black camera, hopping around to get different angles of Harry's ecstatic and flushed face.
"Harry! Harry! Look this way! Harry!" he squealed. "Harry!"
Harry shot him a winning smile and then went back to returning hugs to his teammates.
"RON! HARRY!" a different voice was screaming his name from a distance. Harry recognized it immediately and pulled himself out of the heap of sweaty Gryffindor bodies and found one of his best friends, Hermione sprinting down the sidelines, waving her arms like an insane maniac with her voluminous hair flying out behind her and tears streaming down her cheeks like waterfalls.
"Oh my god Harry!" wailed Hermione, throwing her arms around his neck. "That was the most amazing catch I've ever seen you do!"
"That was seriously bloody brilliant mate!" whooped Ron, coming over and throwing his arms around Harry too. Harry blushed and hugged his friends back.
"It was nothing-" he said, feeling the absolute happiest he'd ever felt in his life.
"Of course it was something!" Hermione screeched incredulously. "That catch will be remembered throughout the history of Quidditch here at Hogwarts!"
"At first, I thought you were gonna do the Wronski Feint- but then when you changed direction and went after the Snitch, you really shocked us!" Ron beamed, untangling himself from Harry. "You never did that at practice!"
Harry smiled sheepishly. Of course he'd never done it at practices, since it hadn't been intentional. But he decided he didn't want to bother telling his friends that.
"Yeah, well..." he shrugged. "It was nothing, honestly."
"Did you see the look on Malfoy's face?" Ron said gleefully. "He looked like a bloody constipated Banshee!"
The whole Gryffindor team burst out laughing.
"You care to say that to my face, you fucking Weasel?"
Ron's face paled and he whirled around.
Malfoy was storming over to where they stood, his whole team strutting behind him like vicious bodyguards. They all had identical looks of rage on their faces, as if their intention was to kill.
"Sure Malfoy!" Ron replied indignantly, trying to hide his slight feeling of fear. "We were just saying that you looked like a constipated Banshee when Harry caught the Snitch! Should've seen your own face-"
But he never got to finish that sentence because he was knocked to the ground by a hissing Malfoy who continued to pound his fist into Ron's stomach.
"You gormless slag!" Malfoy screamed. "You know fucking well that Potter cheated! That was no catch! He fucking cheated!"
"I did not cheat!" Harry bellowed throwing himself toward Malfoy before he murdered his best friend. "Gryffindors don't cheat, unlike you Slytherins!"
"Damn right we don't!" Seamus' voice came from behind them. "That was won fair and square! Even ask Hooch!"
Harry managed to kick Malfoy off of Ron and Ron, who was now sporting a bleeding nose and black eye, scrambled to his feet hastily before Malfoy could attack him again.
"Get your fucking hands off of me Potter!" Malfoy screamed, throwing a fresh punch at Harry this time. Harry ducked it instinctively and rammed his own fist into Malfoy's side.
"No Harry!" Hermione shrilled loudly. "You'll get detention-"
But it was in vain.
Both Harry and Malfoy were rolling around on the damp grass, attempting to dash the living daylights out of each other.
"You fucking goody-two-shoes!" Harry doubled over as Malfoy kneed him with incredible force.
Harry elbowed Malfoy in the face in return. "You're just a sore looser!"
There were now steeled cheers erupting from the quickly multiplying crowd encircling them.
"You get 'em Harry!"
"Show him who's the winner!"
Malfoy grunted in pain as Harry managed to sit with a thump on Malfoy's stomach and proceeded to pound his face into the soil.
"Draco!" cried out Pansy. "Somebody get Potter off of him!"
But none of the Slytherins were able to. They were blocked by grinning Gryffindors who were eager to see Malfoy beat to pulp by Harry.
It wasn't something that they got to see too often.
"Stop this foolishness immediately!" Professor McGonagall's voice boomed threateningly out of nowhere. The crowd immediately hushed and shied away to let her pass.
"Mr. Malfoy! Mr. Potter! What is the meaning of this? I demand that you desist this instant!"
"Malfoy started it!" Ron piped up urgently. "He punched me first! See? I've got a bloody nose dammit!"
Cursing, Malfoy rolled out from underneath Harry, gasping for breath. Harry heaved himself onto his knees shakily and wiped his sleeve over his cut lip.
The two archenemies glared daggers at one another before facing a rabid-looking McGonagall who's nostrils were white and flared. This meant that there was only one word that would come out of her mouth in the next moment-
"Detention!"
"But Professor!" Harry objected angrily. "He's-"
"SILENCE! Mr. Potter, you will keep your mouth closed or I shall have to double the consequences!"
Harry saw Malfoy smirk at this.
"Bugger off, Ferret." He snarled.
"See me in my office after dinner to discuss your punishments. Now return to the castle! Everyone!"
Grumbling, the throng of students began to disperse and soon, only the teams and their friends were left on the field.
Shooting another death-glare at the Gryffindors, Malfoy turned sharply on his heel and led the Slytherin team away to the locker rooms on the other side of the Stadium.
Harry huffed and crossed his arms, watching their retreating backs contemptuously.
"That was entertaining." a very familiar voice commented from over his shoulder. Frowning, Harry turned and came face to face with none other than his old team Captain, Oliver Wood.
No one else, it seemed, had noticed him before and all the Gryffindor's eyes widened in surprise, before jumping on him and shouting in disbelief.
"Oliver!" Ginny exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"Yeah, Wood?" Seamus and Dean gaped. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Long story." Oliver said with a shake of his head. "But I was here throughout the game." he focused his shining eyes back on Harry. "Unbelievable catch Harry. Really, you've improved so much- it's incredible!"
"Er- thanks." Harry grinned. "But seriously, why are you here? Are you on holiday from your team or something?"
With this, Oliver's smile faltered and his eyes narrowed in an almost regrettable fashion.
"No. I'm not on holiday." he said darkly.
"Then why are you here?" Ron asked, slightly bewildered.
"Bloody team kicked me off."
"WHAT?" everyone cried out in unison.
Harry's mouth dropped open.
"They did what?" he spluttered.
"Didn't get along with the other team members, they said." the burly ex-captain explained simply. "Didn't think that I was compatible enough."
"That's... that's just a load of dung!" Ron yelled. "They can't just throw you off the team for something like that!"
"They've got to be bonkers!" Seamus agreed heatedly.
"I know! Exactly what I said to the Quidditch officials, but would they listen? NO." Oliver snorted. "They wouldn't even give me a second chance for merlin's sake."
"Oh Oliver..." Hermione simpered sympathetically. "That's horrible."
"Horrible? That's insane!" said Harry, eyes flashing with rage. "Oliver, you were the reason that Puddlemere United stayed in the top five ranks these past three years!"
"Humph. Well, I guess they didn't think they needed my help any longer."
"But-" Ginny started timidly. "Oliver- what are you going to do now?"
"Are you going to join another team?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, I bet there are plenty of other teams out there that could definitely use someone as good a Keeper as you!" Ron said.
Oliver cracked a small smile and sighed.
"No, but I will be doing something better."
"You are?"
"What?"
"Where?"
"When?"
"Here." he replied, waving his hand towards the school. "Dumbledore gave me a job here the minute he heard that I'd been kicked off the team. Great guy, really."
"You're going to teach here?" Harry asked, a smile spreading onto his face. "Are you going to be coaching Quidditch or something?"
"Well, not Quidditch exactly, but something along the lines of Physical Education." Oliver said, a hint of mystery in his voice. "You'll all see soon enough."
"Awesome!" Ron thumped Oliver's back heartily. "You'd make a great trainer!"
"You think so?"
"Definitely." Harry beamed. Hermione and Ginny were nodding warmly and exchanging odd looks.
"We can't wait to see you in teaching mode, Ollie." Dean said. "Bring some life into this dull school and we'll be eternally grateful. Honestly, it's been hell here with N.E.W.T.S coming up and all."
Hermione shot him a disapproving look.
"N.E.W.T.S are important!" she said keenly. "You boys should learn to take your studies more seriously or you'll find yourselves repeating another long year at Hogwarts."
"Aw, stop being a pessimist 'Mione." said Ron with a roll of his eyes. "Nothing good comes out of getting too worked up about the bloody N.E.W.T.s. I mean, they're still months away!"
"Oh honestly!" she pursed her lips defensively. "I'd like to hear you say that once it's too late for you Ronald!"
Ron looked pleadingly at his younger sister. "Ginny, you're a girl, make her stop nagging us."
"I'm NOT nagging! I never nag! How could you say that? I'm just reminding you that-"
"Alright, alright!" Oliver cut in hastily. "Enough already-"
Hermione clamped her mouth shut, cheeks tinged pink, and shot a final glare at Ron.
"Thanks Oliver. Thought it'd never end." Seamus said in mock exasperation. He slung his broomstick over his shoulder and jabbed his thumb at the Gryffindor locker rooms.
"Well, me and Dean have got to get back now, so I guess we'll see you all later-"
Dean smiled lopsidedly and nodded.
"Yeah, we'll see you all at dinner or something- nice chattin' with you Wood!"
"See you lads and ladies!"
"Oh, I have to go too-" Ginny said blushing. "I want to check up on Andrew. Afterall, he got hurt trying to save me."
"Give him our 'get wells' too Ginny!" Hermione chirped.
"I will." she smiled and began walking off after Dean and Seamus.
"Where's Dennis, by the way?" Harry asked, frowning at the sudden realization that one of their Chasers had been absent the whole time. "Did you guys see him?"
"Oh, Dennis left with Colin after Professor McGonagall came to tell you boys off." Hermione said, wrapping her cloak more tightly around her. "You know, we should get going to. It's cold out here."
Oliver suddenly spoke up. "Hey, you three want to come with me to Hogsmeade today? I was planning to go after the game because I want to greet a few old friends since I'm back here and everything."
Ron grinned. "Definitely! Harry? 'Mione?"
"Of course Oliver." Harry agreed. "We've got a lot of catching up to do."
"Yes, why not?" Hermione smiled. "A good Butterbeer might warm us all and we've still got a few hours until dinner."
Oliver rubbed his hands together in delight. "Excellent." He glanced at Harry and smiled. "Well, we'll let our two victorious Quidditch players take a quick shower and then we'll all head down to Hogsmeade, alright?"
"Thanks, we'll hurry." Harry assured, picking up his Firebolt. "We'll meet you two out by the main hall."
Hermione nodded. "Okay, sounds good. I'm going to run back to the tower to get a warmer coat and change out of my school robes. Oliver? You can't stay with Harry and Ron if you want- I won't be long."
And with that, Hermione hurried off across the pitch to the path leading up the sloping lawn back towards the school.
"You know, it's really great to be back here." Oliver sighed.
"Well it's great to have you back Oliver." Harry said, patting him on the shoulder. "We missed you loads."
"And to think that I'm following in your footsteps." Ron said, his ears reddening with awe. "Of course, I'm not even close to being as good as you but-"
"You played brilliantly, Ron." Oliver interrupted firmly. "If anyone was cut out to be a spanking-good Keeper, it's you."
"Gee-" Ron blushed even harder. "Erm-thanks."
"Now let's go. We don't want to keep madame Granger waiting."
They were sitting in the bustling Three Broomsticks, each contentedly sipping a frothing glass mug of warm Butterbeer and talking animatedly about trivial matters. They certainly had much to catch up on, and the topics of which they could talk about, were endless.
Currently, they were going over the spectacular Quidditch match that had taken place only an hour before, but a fairly blushing Harry kept trying to change the subject, not too fond of being fawned over as if he'd actually done something particularly significant. He hadn't after all, for he'd caught the Golden Snitch numerous times before, hadn't he?
None of the four wanted to talk about the fight afterwards with the Slytherins. They were all still furious with them for diminishing the Gryffindor's moment of glory.
So instead, they picked up where they had left off after the Slytherins had left.
"But I still can't believe it Oliver-" Hermione smiled at the oldest of the four who was gulping down his drink at an impressive pace. "I mean, having you back at Hogwarts and everything."
"Yeah." Ron nodded, taking a long swig of his own Butterbeer. "This year will definitely be the best. Fred and George were always telling me how great a Captain you were you know."
"Heh." Oliver grinned with a shrug. "Fred and George, they were one of a kind... or rather, two of one kind- best Beaters Hogwart's ever had, I tell you."
"If I told them that you were here right now, they'd probably apparate over in a flash." Ron chuckled, then turned thoughtful looking. "Did you know that they've been running a joke shop in Diagon Alley for two years now? It's called-"
"Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. I know, I've visited them there before." Oliver finished for him. "They've got some nifty stuff."
Ron beamed and puffed out his chest.
"So Harry-" Oliver said, turning towards Harry. "How's life been for you?"
Harry furrowed his brows. "Not bad I guess. Had a couple of encounters with Lord Volde-"
"You mean, You-Know-Who-" Ron corrected sharply, glaring at him.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I meant, You-Know-Who. Anyways, that and er- I got 5 O.W.L.s and that's about it."
"You could have gotten at least eight, if you'd come to the Library to steady with me more often." Hermione commented lightly, with raised eyebrows.
"Eight? Who needs eight?" Ron snorted. "I'm bloody happy with the four I got. Charlie's got a great job and he told me he only got three O.W.L.s when he was in fifth year."
Harry couldn't help but smile inwardly at this. Ron looked up to his older brothers so much that it seemed that anything they did was beyond satisfactory and worthy of great praise. He could remember when Ron would not stop boasting every day about Fred and George's scandalous escape from Umbridge two years ago, for a good month. Even now, he'd even bring it up sometimes if he felt as if the Weasley's were beginning to lack commemoration.
"Yes, well- just because your brothers didn't get more than enough O.W.L.s- or N.E.W.T.s for that matter- it definitely doesn't mean that you shouldn't." Hermione said with an injured sniff. "Especially when you have someone here who's willing to help." she added the last bit quietly. Quietly enough for it to breeze over Ron's head unheard, but loud enough for Harry to hear. Harry truly felt sympathy for her. He could imagine (although he would never really understand) how it felt to have two best friends who weren't as obsessed about books and studies as herself. There were many things that Harry and Ron would not put up with about Hermione, yet now that he saw the hurt look on her soft features, he couldn't help but feel a tad bit guilty.
Perhaps it was time to change the subject again...
He coughed loudly and took a swig of his Butterbeer.
He opened his mouth to ask Oliver how things were going with his life, but stopped himself just in time. That question would have been the most stupidest question he could think of, since it was plain to see that his ex-captain was feeling completely upset about being kicked off the team. Shaking his head and telling himself off silently, he instead just glanced at Oliver and gave him a warm smile.
Oliver looked genuinely surprised, but returned the smile with a coy wink.
For some very odd reason (and it was certainly very odd because it completely confused him), Harry felt his cheeks blushing ever-so-slightly, like he'd just been overly flattered or something.
And then, because he knew himself to be blushing, he blushed even more.
"Harry, mate-" Ron said suddenly, "-you feeling alright?"
Hermione looked up from her drink and her downcast expression promptly disappeared. "Your face is extremely flushed- are you not feeling well?"
Harry snuck a quick look in Oliver's direction again and saw with horror that he was smiling as if amused about Harry's situation.
"Uh- it must be the drink." he said hastily, forcing an offhand shrug.
"But it's Butterbeer." Ron said skeptically. "Who gets canned with their first glass of it?"
Harry's mouth opened uncomfortably.
"Or like Hermione said, I could be feeling a bit sick."
"Do you need to go back to the castle?" she asked worriedly.
"Maybe the Ferret hexed him when no one was looking!" Ron suggested urgently. "I mean, I ended up hurling slugs when I fought with him remember?"
Harry laughed out loud, earning a bewildered glare from the red head.
Oliver grinned and exchanged a knowing look with Harry. "Didn't that weird hex came from your own wand though?" he said pointedly to Ron.
Ron looked indignantly from one face to the next, as if they were all crazy loons. "But if it hadn't been for Malfoy, it wouldn't have happened in the first place."
"Oh, right." Oliver nodded and agreed good-naturedly. "Good point."
Harry stifled a snigger.
Back at Hogwarts, the mood of things were considerably different. Especially down in the Slytherin common room.
Most of the seventh years were gathered amongst the overstuffed velvet chairs before the fire with expressions that looked as if they'd been tricked into paying more for something that cost practically nothing. In other words, they were so furious, that they were literally spouting flame and stream from their ears.
One of these Slytherins, a very pale, very blonde one, was pacing the length of the room with his arms crossed over his chest and a glare imbedded into his face that would have sent the meanest bully of the school cowering into the shadows.
"FUCKING CHEATING POTTER!" he screamed. "He fucking KNOWS he fucking CHEATED!"
"Draco dear-" a worried looking Pansy tried consolingly. "We all know Potter's a no good cheating scum- but he's just that, and only that."
"And he fucking embarrassed me in front of the WHOLE FUCKING SCHOOL!" the blonde ranted on as if he hadn't heard her at all. "No one, NO ONE tricks a Malfoy!"
"He'll pay, Draco." Montague said icily. "We'll make sure of that."
"The hell we will!" exploded Draco. "He'll be such a sorry ass by the time we're done with him that he won't even know why he's still alive!"
Bletchly stood up. "Yeah, and we'll make him regret ever crossing our path!"
Draco's eyes narrowed menacingly and he let out a hiss like a snake.
"Oh yes. He'll definitely regret ever crossing my path, the bloody Golden Boy."
Blaise, who was lounging lazily on one of the large couches, smirked and spoke up.
"You've got any ideas for him?"
Draco turned his head to meet Blaise's gaze coldly. "Not yet, but I will. Believe me, I will."
Warrington was twirling his wand between his fingers with a wicked smile on his face. "Think of something good Draco, and I don't care if it means we have to force-feed him poison." he snorted. "HA! Wouldn't that be a joke? The Dark Lord can't kill him, but a bunch of seventh years can!"
Crabbe and Goyle sniggered rather stupidly from their corners.
Draco, despite his anger, couldn't help but find himself amused.
"I can see the headlines already- Salazar Slytherin's Faithful Followers Poison Immortal Harry Potter's Pumpkin Juice!" Warrington recited loudly, eliciting a bout of guffaws from all who were listening. "Imagine that, eh?"
"We won't be killing him though." Draco leered unpleasantly. "No... if we killed him, he wouldn't experience enough pain... it's got to be something worse... or rather, better."
Oh yes. Oh fucking yes.
Potter would pay dearly, and Draco would make sure that he made a living hell out of the Gryffindor's life.
Feeling a bit more satisfied then before, he settled smugly into a couch and watched the roaring flames licking at the charcoaled logs in the fireplace.
Oh how he wished those logs were Potter's face.
A/N
Please review! Thanks! I've got more of the story written, but I'll only post if I get enough reviews to prove that people are actually reading the story and are interested in seeing the rest!