I. Detention with Trelawney
A shouting match that led the Head Boy and the Head Girl to more trouble than they expected…
Prof. McGonagall closed her eyes in an attempt to erase the two sullen figures standing surly in front of her. She never thought she'd live to see the day when the Head Boy and Head Girl would behave like barbarians.
When she finally opened her eyes, she made sure that she wore her signature disapproving look.
"I have never seen a more shameful scene! The Head Students shouting their voices hoarse in the Great Hall in front of the first year students on the first day of school!"
"But, Professor, it wasn't my fault! Malfoy here-,"
"Silence, Ms. Granger!"
Hermione's face went so red that it overshadowed her chestnut curls. Beside her, Draco Malfoy sniggered.
Prof. McGonagall was quick on the uptake. "I see no reason for you to leer like that, Mr. Malfoy. Or would detention give me the expression I wish to see in your face?"
As color drained from Draco's face, Prof. McGonagall knew she succeeded.
"Detention? On the first day of school? You've got to be kidding-,"
"I'm afraid not, Mr. Malfoy." The Deputy Headmistress pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and started to write. "You will serve detention tonight at the Divination Room with Prof. Trelawney," she said without raising her head from the parchment.
"No way!"
"Anyone but her!"
"I'd rather feed the skrewts!"
"I'd rather clean Snape's cauldron!"
Prof. McGonagall glared at them. The look in her face made both of them shut up at once.
"Get out." At that, the Head Students were dismissed.
That night….
"Waxing crystal balls! When my father learns of this…"
"Oh yeah, baby Malfoy, go tell Daddy how Hogwarts has been treating you," Hermione said with faux sympathy.
"You're making fun of me!" Draco glowered at her. "Don't tell me you're enjoying this?"
Hermione tossed another ball to Draco before she answered. "Well, at least she's asleep." She threw a sideway glance at Prof. Trelawney's snoring figure in one of the chairs in the room. She couldn't help but feel relieved that the Divination teacher had dozed off. She and Malfoy spent the first two hours of detention listening to her "predictions" about them and their future kids.
"That fake," Draco said as he threw the sleeping Trelawney a look of disgust. "How dare she foretell of my marriage with you!" The Head Boy rested his gray disgusted eyes on the Head Girl's seated form beside him. "Like I fancy someone like you".
"I don't see why you're complaining," Hermione said casually. "She never had a prediction that materialized (except for two, remembering Harry, but did not dare voice that one out). She rolled her eyes. "Me, marry a haughty Malfoy and have 3 kids? Ha, that'll be the day…" She cocked her head with all the arrogance she can muster.
For a split second, Draco found himself enthralled with Hermione's defiant face. Dammit' he thought. She is pretty…
Aaaaaaggghhh! He shook his head vigorously. What the bloody hell am I thinking!
"Careful with that. You might break it," Hermione screeched at Draco as she saw him scrubbing the crystal ball raw. What's wrong with him? she thought.
Draco was now waxing more briskly. That thought had not crossed my mind! I did not just found Beaver Girl pretty! He stole a glance at Hermione's direction. …nor am I attracted to her wit…and the sensual way she curls her mouth…and the sexy way she furrows her eyebrows in concentration…
Draco scrubbed the crystal ball furiously. Bloody hell, what's wrong with me?
"Malfoy…"
"What?"
"Red light…" Hermione started.
"What red light?" he snapped.
Suddenly, he felt a vacuum- like force pulling him to the crystal ball he has been polishing. On instinct, he grabbed for Hermione's arm. He heard a scream, a whooshing sound, saw flashes of light as he and Hermione was forced to vacuity.
"Malfoy!" A young man of seventeen, stormed into the parlor, calling out a name furiously. " Malfoy!"
"Dear me, Marcus." At his name, the young man turned to his left where a young girl of sixteen was cradling a blonde toddler at her hip. "Calling out like that would be futile. After all, you are in the Malfoy Mansion."
Marcus threw Rhyss a murderous look with his emerald eyes. "The bloody hell I know that!" He tried to breathe evenly, trying to contain the seething anger that filled him, in fear he'll scare the living daylights out of the toddler, Zoë. "Well, Cousin Know- it- all, tell me. Where's Chelsea?"
Now, that's something new. Marcus looking for the Ice Princess "Why are you looking for her?" Rhyss asked curiously.
"Because I have horns sticking out of my head!' Marcus bellowed, pointing furiously at the protuberances amidst his messy red hair. He stomped off the parlor towards the intrinsically elaborate door leading to the living room, leaving, followed by a chortling Rhyss. "Chelsea Malfoy!"
In the grandiose living room across the parlor, a fifteen year old girl with silver blond hair was absorbed in a book. She was lounging in an elegant black settee near the fireplace. A few meters from the foot of the settee, a boy of twelve with chocolate brown hair, was sitting cross- legged at the carpeted maroon floor, polishing a broomstick. Near the door, a pair of fourteen-year-olds, a girl with short red hair and light green eyes and a slightly hefty boy with auburn hair, are playing with a wizard's chest.
Marcus burst into the room angrily. "Chelsea!"
"Oooppppssss…" Crash!
Marcus turned to his left and saw his younger sister Leanne trying to grab the enchanted chess pieces flittering away. Opposite her, a red- faced Madoc, who looked like he caused the mess, was trying to help her.
"Really, big brother! This isn't even your hou-," Leanne stopped. "What have you done to your head?" she gasped at the sight of his horns.
"Grew it with a potion," Marcus answered sardonically. Then averted his eyes to rest on the contemptuous blonde by the fireplace. "With Chelsea's help."
Laughter filled the room, to Marcus' annoyance.
"It's not funny!" More laughter ensued.
Seething with anger, he strode to where Chelsea was lounging. He snatched the book from her hands ("Hey!" she protested) and glared at her, pointing angrily at his prongs for horns, "Take these off!"
"No! You deserve it!"
Marcus was incensed. "TAKE THESE OFF NOW!"
"No! Why don't you ask Jermaine Zabini for help, you perv!" Chelsea replied defiantly.
Jermaine Zabini? Marcus let out a groan. This girl is unbelievable!
"Is this what it's all about? Jermaine?" Marcus asked, his patience ebbing away. "What did she do to you, anyway? Why do you hate her?"
"I think Chelsea's jealous with that French girlfriend of yours," Elliott chided, as he polish his broomstick.
"No, I'm not!" Chelsea protested, red- faced.
"Yes, you are," Rhyss joined in as she propped the toddler, Zoë, on the carpeted floor beside Elliott. "You told me you wanted to hex that Zabini girl to oblivion after you saw her with cousin Potter here."
""I…I...that's not what I said!" Chelsea stuttered.
"Yes, it was,'" Rhyss challenged. The blond girl glared at the smirking redhead.
"Boom!"
Everyone turned to a gurgling Zoë on the carpet, pointing excitedly at Elliott's broomstick.
"Yes, Zoë, it's a broomstick,' Chelsea said lovingly at her youngest sibling, then turned to her brother, "Elliott, don't let her get hold of the polishing kit!
"Okay!" the boy screeched. "Rhyss, why did you place Zoë here?" Elliott asked, annoyed.
"Chelsea fancies Marcus?" Madoc asked Leanne. The latter was leering.
"I don't fancy Marcus Weasley Potter!" Screamed Chelsea, shaking fitfully. "Aaaaggghhhh! This house is full of people!"
Chelsea was about to let out another scream when she heard rustling from the fireplace. Seconds later, a red flame ignited.
"Who did that?" Marcus glanced at everyone in the room. All heads shook vigorously.
A faint sound of screams was heard, seemingly coming from somewhere in the mansion. All the youngsters looked around nervously. Chelsea picked Zoë up and was looking at the fireplace with frightened brown eyes. Elliott seemed to sense it too.
"I-i-it's coming from the flames," he stammered.
The sound became louder and the flames grew redder until it belched out two cloaked figures that crashed against the settee. Everyone was immobilized.
The two cloaked figures coughed and dusted themselves as they try to stand up.
"What happened?" asked one of intruders, rubbing a sore elbow that she had landed on.
Zoë clapped her hands gleefully and shouted, "Mama!"
Chelsea, though frightened, mustered all her bravery and took a closer look at the two intruders.
"Mom? Dad?"
Draco and Hermione froze and gaped at them.
A/N I so LOVE Draco Malfoy! I'm part of the minority of Filipinas who like their men conceited and evil … and even find it sexy!