Snake Skin

Disclaimer: I own my laptop and that's about it.

--

Chapter 1: Dealing with a Snake Can Be Worse than Dealing with the Devil

It started off like any other argument between them.

It happened right outside of the Great Hall, amongst the rushes of the students. Malfoy, spotting Potter even from across the masses, had allowed his familiar sneer to curl on his lips as he began to push his way through the students around him. The crowd seemed to part willingly for him—after all, he was the feared Draco Malfoy—as he arrived at his destination, which happened to be right in Potter's path. Flanked by his ever faithful sidekicks, the Mudblood and the Weasel, Potter came to a halt to look with a familiar weariness at the blonde, who only allowed his smirk to grow into his well-known sneer

"Malfoy," Potter greeted first before Draco could use his sharp tongue. "Was there something you wanted?"

Next to him the Weasel was starting to turn red as his temper—created at the very sight of Draco—began to get away from him already. Draco barely repressed his glee; this was really just too easy.

"Actually, there was something I wanted to tell you Potter," Draco stated imperiously, "You see, I have a problem with you allowing your…pets here," He cut a look of disgust to Granger and Weasley. "Running around without a collar or a leash. Really, at least neuter the Weasel so he can't reproduce!"

All it took was a well-placed jab and Weasley was pulling out his wand, aiming it directly at the ever smirking Draco's chest. "Shut the fuck up Malfoy," Weasley snarled, ignoring Granger as she placed her hand on his shoulder in a silent try to placate him. "What the fuck are you doing over here with your goons anyway? Shouldn't you be off beating 1st years up?"

"I don't know, shouldn't you be off looking through trash for your new wardrobe?" Draco snarked back easily, inwardly grinning at how red Weasley's face now was. If Draco was lucky, maybe the redhead would burst a vein and fall over dead. Or was that thinking too wishful?

As Weasley opened his overly large mouth to start spitting hexes, oblivious to Granger's screeching reprimands, Draco secretly palmed his wand in his left. Oh this would just be too easy…

Until Potter, as always, had to be the fucking noble hero and hold Weasley back with his one hand alone. "Ron stop," Potter firmly said, not looking away from Draco as he grabbed Ron's wand arm and pushed it down. "He's not worth it."

Weasley, although under the Golden Boy's request had lowered his arm, was still livid and itching for a fight as he looked incredulously at Potter. "Well I know that Harry! But can't we teach him a lesson?"

"You should be the one being taught lessons, Weasel," Draco snarled, but his eyes were on the green ones of the Golden Boy. "And for your knowledge Potter, I am anything but worthless."

Why had that comment, falling from Potter's lips, hurt so much? It always had, and it always would, so long as it was Potter saying it.

Potter was always the only one who could break through his Malfoy mask, the only one who could shatter the walls of his pride with just a simple statement. He was worthless? He would fucking show Potter who the worthless one was! He went to raise his wand to hex the boy into oblivion, damn the consequences, but Potter always had to be one step ahead, swiftly grabbing Draco by the wrist and twisting it painfully.

"Let go of me you barbarian!" Draco hissed as he used his other hand to try to punch Potter in the face, but the other man was faster, stepping out of the way and making Draco stumble before Potter pushed him, and they fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Around them the crowd parted in a circle as curious faces pressed in to watch another show down between Hogwart's most notorious rivals, some already placing bets on who would be the winner.

"Potter's powerful, remember—he beat You-Know-Who!"

"Yes, but Malfoy's a cunning snake; I bet you even now that he's thinking up some bastardly plan to get Potter!"

"It's so romantic when they roll around together…"

"Get him! Bash his head in!"

"Show that snake what a real lion is!"

"Poison Potter with your fangs Malfoy!"

"Get him Harry, tear him to shreds!"

In the end, the only students who were not talking excitedly were the two students who were being talked about, still locked in their combat on the stone floor. Draco was wondering how long it would take for one of the professors to find them and stop this as he brought his knee up, hoping to kick Potter off of him. Instead the git only pressed down into him more, his larger frame crushing Draco until the blonde was forced to admit that Potter actually had him pinned.

"I didn't know you were into me this way Potter," he sneered, lewdly arching up into the other boy. "Like what you feel?"

"Shut it Malfoy," Potter spat, his face a hard mask. "I've really had enough of you."

Draco tried, unsuccessfully, to free his right arm from where Potter had it pinned. "Well the feelings mutual, Pothead! Now get off me so that we can just go our separate ways—"

"Oh I doubt that," Potter interrupted, "I doubt that completely. Really, I bet the next time I see you, this same thing will happen again. And frankly, Malfoy, I'm getting sick of it. I doubt you don't know anything other than the right way to bother me."

Beneath him, Malfoy went still as his eyes narrowed. "Is that a challenge, Potter?"

Potter's face was completely blank. "It's whatever you want it to be, Malfoy. I'm just simply stating that I doubt you could ever actually be a decent human being, no matter how hard you tried."

Draco's eyes were pools of dark silver as he glared up at the other boy. If there was one thing a Malfoy could never resist, it was a challenge. Around them the jeers had died down to hushed mutterings as everyone listened into the conversation, to the startling challenge Harry had just proclaimed.

Draco Malfoy being nice? That was asking way too much, the students whispered. Once a Malfoy, always a Malfoy, as though it was a curse that no one could break, the pure blood with the filthy attitude. It was inconceivable that Malfoy would accept this challenge, not when it went so far, asked for the impossible.

But then, Draco Malfoy had always been a fan of the impossible.

Amidst the astonishment of the other students, Draco allowed his lips to curl in the laziest of smirks as he looked up into Potter's burning eyes, his expectant face. Malfoys were not meant to be nice, to anyone or anything; but then, Malfoys never gave up their pride either, especially this Malfoy. He could act like he loved everyone when he really hated them; he could smile when it was really a grimace.

Draco would act and he would succeed, if not just to see Potter lose for once in his life. He would lose.

"What will I get in return?" he asked. Potter cast him a skeptical glance that had his blood boiling.

"Anything you want."

Malfoy's face all but lit up at that.

"Harry no!" Granger tried to protest, "You can't do—"

"Hermione let him be!" the Weasel cut in, "it's not like Malfoy will actually be able to act like the rest of us—he's too much of a git."

"Trust me Weasel, I have more elegance and social skills in my pinky then you do in that entire ghastly red head of yours. Besides," he smirked up at Potter, who continued to glare down at him. "What do I have to lose?"

"You'd be surprised, Malfoy," Potter quietly told him. "Now will you accept my challenge?"

The entire student body of Hogwarts seemed to be holding its breath as Malfoy continued to leer up at Potter.

"You'll do whatever I want?" Malfoy asked again, and slowly Potter nodded. Malfoy's smirk became absolutely vicious. "Get off of me Potter and we have a deal. For an entire week I'll be a regular Golden Boy, much like yourself."

Potter slowly let him go as they got to their feet, Potter now eyeing him rather wearily. "You have to be absolutely nice to everyone Malfoy; no insults, especially to me and Ron. And if I hear that you've been rude to anyone, even a teacher, you lose."

"Trust me Potter, Malfoys never lose. You, however, are sure to fail."

Potter's face became an enigmatic mask that Draco immediately hated. "We'll see Malfoy, we'll see. You can start being your new pleasant self tomorrow. Have a good night."

Just like that Potter dismissed him, turning back to Weasley and Granger and letting them fall into step with him as he walked away. The crowd even fucking parted for them.

"So you're just going to walk away?" Draco called after him, mocking him. "Aw, the so called 'Savior' got scared! No wonder every pities him, he's a coward!"

The word coward rose in Draco's chest like bile. How many times had that word come back to haunt him? He supposed that Potter thought he was the bigger man; he did not turn back to listen to Draco or to answer him, but just walked away—something else that was painfully odd.

Why did Potter always think that he could just ignore him? Why did Potter always think that he could get away?

"Potter! You fucking twat, get back here! Potter! You—" Growling Draco went to grab his wand, aiming the tip at Potter's retreating back. It was ripped away from him before he could fire any nasty hexes however, zooming from his hand to land neatly in the scowling Professor McGonagall's.

"Mr. Malfoy! Detention for a week with me!" she reprimanded, still scowling, "and for the rest of the evening I'm keeping your wand!" She turned her hawk-like gaze on the congregation of students, some of which were trying pathetically to sneak away at her appearance. "And for the rest of you, go to your dorms! This fiasco is over!"

Obediently the muttering students began to disband, some casting glances over to the still angry Malfoy, who was still standing there, still and fuming, staring at the spot where the Golden Trio had vanished.

"Mr. Malfoy, you need to leave as well," McGonagall commanded, "I cannot have you just—Mr. Malfoy!"

Draco ignored her indignant shouts as he abruptly turned on his heel and started to stalk away, his cloak swirling out in a black mass behind him. He could really care less at this point if McGonagall assigned him another week of detention. In fact, he could really care less about everything that didn't have to do with him slowly murdering Potter. The nerve of the git, just walking away from him like that, ignoring him when he should have fought back, he should have come after Draco instead of leaving him standing there, all alone. What the fuck was Potter playing at?

Oh right, the bet. Draco grit his teeth just thinking about it. To think that Potter had dared to challenge him…as though he thought that Draco couldn't handle it…

If Draco wanted to be honest to himself, he would admit that the challenge of being nice to everyone—even if it was just fake kindness—seemed too much to bear. He was a Malfoy for Merlin's sake, and Malfoys certainly weren't meant to be kind. They were supposed to be powerful, arrogant, strong—everything but kind, in the end.

But at the same time, it was a challenge, and what Malfoy would he be if he turned it down?

He entered the Slytherin Common Room still fuming to find Pansy and Blaise conversing by the fire, their voices low but still audible.

"As if he could ever even try to be kind. Potter's got this in the bag Parkinson."

"You don't know him like I do, Zambini. Sure, Draco might not seem like he has a heart at all, but he can be tender, in his own unique way."

"Please, give me a break and stop speaking like you two are more than friends. I mean, it's obvious he already has his eyes on someone else."

Draco, from his position half hidden in the shadows, felt his breath hitch. They were clearly talking about the bet Potter made with him, that much he understood. But the idea of him liking someone…?

He wondered if not would be the time for him to make his presence known until Pansy started talking again. "It's a shame he's so oblivious about it. I mean, they really would make a hot couple…"

"If that were even possible," Blaise snorted, "I mean, look at them both; they think they hate each other. I doubt that's going to change any time soon."

"The bet, Blaise dear, remember the bet. I think that in the end that might change a thing or two."

"Well then, why don't we make a bet of our own on dearest Draco's behalf? I say that by the end of this nothing will have changed, and Draco will still be his snarky self."

"I'll take that as a compliment Zambini," Draco said as he stepped from the shadows at last, his eyes bright in the firelight from the hearth. "But what I would like to really know is who it is I might change for in the first place."

He watched Pansy exchange a quick look with Blaise before she smile at him brightly, standing from the couch with an elegant flip of her black hair. "Oh Draco dear, it wouldn't be fun if we told you! It's not too challenging for you to find out on your own, as lately you've been accepting challenges anyway."

Draco's glare was like venom. "And lately you've seen to have developed a pension in bets. Most of them, I hear, are about me."

Pansy's smile was slow and dangerous. "So you overheard did you?" She turned back to cast a triumphant look at Blaise. "I told you he was there listening in."

"Oh course Pansy," Blaise rolled his eyes, "You're always so right."

"Well, of course I am Zambini, thanks for finally acknowledging it!" Pansy smirked as Blaise just glared at her.

"You do understand the concept of sarcasm, I assume?"

"Yes, yes we all know Pansy here is a narcissistic bitch, but I already knew that. What I'd like to know, my fellow comrades, is who exactly it is I am crushing on."

At that Pansy wasted no time in tittering away. "Oh Draco dear, why ever would we spoil the fun and tell you?" she laughed, "Besides, you weren't even supposed to hear that bit of information to begin with!"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "I see. Well then, should I Crucio it out of you?"

"Malfoy, you really need to stop making empty threats," Zambini sighed, "it's getting quite irksome."

Draco bristled, wishing he had his wand so that he could prove to Zambini just how irksome his threats really were. "I wouldn't be bloody saying that Zambini if you know what's good for you."

Despite Draco using his darkest voice and his sharpest glare, the dark-skinned boy simply snorted in amusement. Pansy's giggles were starting to become outright laugher as Draco flushed, his anger slowly being pushed to the max until he exploded.

"Fuck you all!" he snarled, "first the Golden Boy and now you two! Great fucking friends you lot are, I'm better off befriending sodding Longbottom of all fucking people! Why the fuck did I even come back this school year?!"

Not sticking around to hear whatever apologies his 'friends' wished to supply—seeing if they even would bother in the first place—he stormed over to the doorway to his private quarters and slammed the door hard enough to leave an impression, and still that wasn't enough.

Snarling he stomped over to his bed to grab his pillow, hurling it across the room as he flung himself onto his bed, still steaming, and laid perfectly still. Maybe if he were fortunate for once in his life, Merlin would use his magiks to strike him down and put him out of his misery—that seemed like the only option to live an aggravation-free life at this point in time.

"Fucking Parkinson and Zambini," he growled into his duvet. He couldn't even place any locking spells on his dorm without his wand, so he was virtually still at their mercy until they figured out he was wand-less and came to pester him again with their jeers and atrocious behavior. "Bloody McGonagall, bloody bets, bloody…"

He turned his face into his mattress so that the name was muffled, a quiet whisper in the air as he curled in on himself. "Stupid Potter. All his fault, this is all…"

He shut his eyes and saw green lights, a pair of them. They burned his retinas.

"His entire fault…"