Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy would be in completely different situations at the end of DH if I owned them. One day…
Chardonnay
11.09.10
Unbetaed.
Of Quills and Parchment.
It was far too early to feel this nauseous. They had hardly gotten past the first quarter. How on Morgana did he, Draco Malfoy the First, managed to get such horrible grades? He doubted even that filthy blood traitor Weasley would have done as badly as he did.
'It has to be a curse. Or a prank. There's no way I could have failed so many classes.'
"Ahem, students, your attention please."
All eyes turned to the front of the Hall, twitchy greasy fingers paused in their midst of stealing a few more pieces of chicken and stuffed turkey. A ghostly man who stood at the front, wand stretched out before him, nodded with a small smile before clearing his throat. The sound echoed greatly throughout the walls. Then Dumbledore, or his ghost specifically, began speaking.
'Should have know that even if the knut was dead, he would still be imposing his power on the living.'
"It has come to my attention along with Headmistress McGonagall that many of you are currently failing or barely passing the expectations the professors have of you." Dumbledore paused, a small smile emerging at the barely concealed snort coming from Severus. Then the ghostly ex-headmaster looked around dramatically as the dimmed but not dull twinkle in his eyes behind small moon-shaped glasses sending vague messages to the students; or at least, they sent some sort of subtle warning to those who knew what the man was capable of even when deceased.
"Since I believe all of us have the potential and ability to do better than what we have now, I am imposing a new rule on the whole student body as a whole."
Several gasps rang out among Draco's peers and he glared at them, nose pointed sharply down at them. Several winced and shuffled in their seats while their cheeks colored. Unfortunately, Draco couldn't find himself to care. After all, it wasn't his problem if the younger Slytherins were embarrassed. It was about time the younger snakes learned how to slither and who was their betters.
Draco Malfoy of course, was always better than anyone. Well, in Slytherin at least. At that thought, a small bubble of rage popped within the recesses of the young Malfoy's mind. The blond grinded his teeth while his clenched and unclenched around the peace of parchment holding his scores. The simple school barn owl that had oh-so-politely given his mail simply tilted his head and gave the Malfoy a rather strangely intelligent and amused stare.
Draco of course rolled his eyes and with a huff, he threw a piece of his bread at the damned owl. It hooted, moved in quickly to nip painfully at Draco's earlobe before flying off. The seventh year simple growled softly to himself, one hand already fingering and gingerly rubbing at the small indent created from the owl's sharp beaks.
"Great, now even bloody owls want to show their bloody stupid attitudes. When the hell did the world go wrong?"
Despite the whispered level of his words, several Slytherins turned to stare before looking back at the excited ghostly headmaster. The rest that didn't do so by their own power were forced to do so after a quiet vicious snarl and an icy glare. Inwardly as the blond went back to mindlessly listening to the blathering of a dead fool, a part of Draco knew the answer to his own question.
It was the war that made the world go wrong. Why else would his father still be fighting for a way out of Azkaban? If not for the war, why else would his mother be crying to herself at night before screaming at him in the morning for not being perfect enough to be called Lucius Malfoy Junior 1? Fortunately, before darker thoughts began swirling within his mind, the sound of clatter, gasps, and angry screams of denials brought him back to the present.
Slytherins and Gryffindors be damned. Whoever wanted house unity had gotten their wish. Every student argued and screamed at the teachers. Hufflepuffs and their sweet personalities were gone. What was left seemed similar to that of feral house elves waiting to strangle someone. Who said Hufflepuffs refused to use violence? The Ravenclaws were still screeching like the crows they were symbolized to be. Several grouped together, similar to that of a forming riot. Others moved to other houses to scheme, plot, and point blame. Gryffindors and Slytherins were acting quite similar.
The line between opposites had apparently changed quickly into something much harder to see. Paired and mixed groups of younger and older witches and wizards gather and moved closer to the front. As Draco looked for his own group of close friends and then his enemies, he found some sort of amusement in them. It wasn't every day that things looked this chaotic.
Pansy was by Parvati and Lavender, hands clenched into sharp clawed fists. The gleaming bright pink and purple nails looked as formidable as that of a turning Werewolf. Blaise were currently arguing with the mudblood and his friend, Dean and Thomas. They appear to be scheming as well. Gregory and Victor were still off to the side, unsure of what to do. A quick glance toward the usual seats of the Golden Trio showed no one.
Draco frowned. It wasn't often those three split up or changed. There had to be a reason but was it worth the effort to lift his head and looked around. Perhaps not. It didn't exactly seem like a good idea.
It turned out that he didn't have to. Just as Draco was about to turn back to the toast and small pieces of other things that made up his breakfast, the sight of black robes, worn down pants, and a burning red and orange sweater swallowed his sight. Draco winced before getting himself together. No Malfoy was going to suffer horrible exposure to indecent insufferable colors without complaining loudly, brilliantly, and showily.
As he opened his mouth and tilted his head up to sent a string of curses and hexes toward the person's way, the blond noticed something very strange about the company before it; if Draco Malfoy was any smarter –which is impossible anyways since he is a genius-, he would say that the person in front of him was Harry Potter. Black messy hair that looked untamable, check. Wide, somewhat shy-looking but determined green eyes. Check. Lightning bolt shaped scar on forehead? Check.
"Malfoy. I'm your partner."
Draco blinked. Then he blinked once more before tilting his head to the side. He arched a slight brow. "Did you eat something horrible? I think you might be mistaken about something."
"Malfoy, y-you—can't you even be a little polite? We're going to be stuck together so might as well—"
"What?"
Potter rolled his eyes, mouth quivering between being a fine pursed line and a small smile, before sighing and extending his hand to the blond before him. Quietly, he spoke.
"We're partners for the rest of the year, Malfoy. You know what Dumbledore just said? C'mon, let's just. .the war is over. Let's just be polite to each other, okay? I can't fail Potions if I want to be an auror."
The last part was grumbled darkly but Draco did not care. The only thing he cared about was the first sentence.
"Partners? Rest of the year? Malfoy, no ferret? I think if I want to fix my grades, I should probably start paying a lot of attention to lectures if this is the result of not listening to a dead man's rambles."
"Malfoy?"
The first day that a Malfoy was unable to speak back in retorts was noted down as the very day Harry Potter offered him a sign of friendship; one that the former had broken and discarded within seconds of being offered it during first year.
Cheers. This is unbetaed and my English is still not good enough since it is my second language so I do believe there are several grammatical errors within this chapter. Please offer creative criticism if you want to but if not, no flames about 'yaoi' 'ew ew', 'draco' etc. Thanks.