Yay! It's time for another update. I know, I know. It's only been a day. But I've somehow been stricken with this never-before-seen creativity. Usually I start something and NEVER finish it. But don't let that discourage you from reading! I actually made a plan for this story. As always, views are appreciated but add a little 're' in front of that and I'll be thrilled beyond belief!
Disclaimer: Look, just because I'm super tight with JK's friend's sister's husband's neighbor's dog's cousin doesn't mean I can just claim rights to her works.
Draco Malfoy wasn't quite sure how to feel. He was sitting in a rather undignified cross-legged position on the floor of his dormitory, sorting through his trunk.
He didn't want to think about what he had gotten caught up in, thanks to his father. He folded a few shirts, scowling when he noticed the lint that had collected on his favorite dress shirt.
As Draco slowly began to pick off each individual lint particle, he felt a growing guilt rise inside of him for blaming his father. He knew that the man didn't mean well; if the Dark Lord asked him to curse his son he would do it without hesitation.
But Draco had never been the most important thing in his father's life.
His hand brushed over the first tie that he had learned how to tie. His mother had taught him how before a large gathering that she had hosted. His family wasn't particularly close, but he remembered each moment that his parents had devoted to him.
"Draco, don't knot it like that. It looks common."
The boy dropped the tie and looked up at his mother. "Will you do it for me then?"
"Will you do it for me then, please?" she corrected. The boy lifted his chin in defiance.
"Draco Malfoy doesn't say please!" he sneered.
His mother tilted her head at that. "Never forget to observe the niceties Draco. One day you will be glad that you did." She bent down and loosened the offending tie, making sure her son was watching as she tied the proper knot.
Ha. Sorry Mother, but I've quite forgotten about niceties, Draco thought.
His lint picking was interrupted by a thundering sound, followed by the sound of rain on water. He smirked. Everyone else at this miserable school believed that the Slytherins, locked away in their dungeons, had no idea when it rained.
True, they couldn't see it, but they always heard it. The dungeons were under the lake, and if it rained hard enough one could hear the faint sound of droplets.
As Draco Malfoy continued to fuss over his dress shirts, Gregory Goyle entered the dorm.
"I saw Granger today in the library," his roommate informed him, "but I didn't say anything to her."
Draco looked up from where he had put aside the shirt in favor of organizing the explosion of loose parchment at the bottom of his trunk. "Why would you be in the library, Goyle?"
"I actually do my schoolwork, Malfoy. I'm not a complete dimwit." Malfoy winced at this. He hadn't known what to say to Greg's announcement about Granger, so he had brought up his friend's supposed lack of intelligence. It was a bit of a sore topic.
Plus, he didn't want to get into the reason for why Greg would feel it was appropriate to mention the Gryffindor girl. See, earlier on the train, his friend had overheard Granger defending him to Potter and the Weasel.
Of course, this little story had led to his entire dorm inventing a ridiculous tale about Granger's hidden feelings for him. He had rolled his eyes at this in disgust. Honestly, Slytherins only bonded when they were making fun of someone else together.
It was a bit curious, though. The way that Granger had apparently been so against the idea of him being a Death Eater. He wasn't, not officially, but as soon as a Gryffindor hears the word Slytherin, the first thing they do is throw out accusations of how all Slytherins are Death Eaters. He hadn't realized that 'dark wizard' was now listed as a synonym for Slytherin in the dictionary.
Draco snorted and shook his head. And those mangy lions think that Slytherin house needs new material for their jokes.
"Something funny mate?" Greg asked from his bed across the room. Draco turned and surveyed his friend.
"What on earth are you doing Goyle?" he asked with a frown. His roommate was facing the ceiling, his upper half hanging off the side of the bed.
"Well, after I asked her where to find a book earlier in the library, Ginny Weasley told me that hanging upside down would make blood rush to my head and help my circulation and I would get smarter." His friend replied.
"And you believed that? Why were you asking Weaslette about books anyway? I doubt she's ever seen one. Her family can't afford such priceless artifacts."
Greg, who was quite red-faced at this point, lifted himself with some effort. "She was the only other one there besides Granger!"
Draco rolled his eyes and snickered. "At least they seem to be getting more creative with their insults."
Greg simply scoffed and massaged his temples.
A few corridors away, Severus Snape was lying flat on the floor. He was taking deep breaths at precise intervals, attempting to steady his mind. It was a technique he had learned in his sixth year while studying Occlumency.
Flashes of memories continued to run across his mind, disrupting his meditative state.
A flash of red hair turning a corner. He took another breath.
Angry green eyes peering at him. A voice snapping "Don't talk to me anymore!" Snape shut his eyes tightly.
Sitting alone under a tree. Eating alone at meals. Shadowing her footsteps in the hallways on the way to class. He twitched.
Absorbing himself further into Dark Arts.
Getting closer to the people in his house. Avery, Lestrange, and Black. Malfoy.
"Severus Snape? You should really join us at tonight. We're going to an important meeting. It could change the world." He smiled humorlessly.
"Yess, we'll change the world, you and I. My boy, you've just made the best decision of your life." A voice hissed, full of empty promises and false affection.
Tom Riddle's black eyes gleamed red for an instant as he eyed the fly that he had just caught in his trap.
At this, Snape opened his eyes again. It was uncanny how much Draco Malfoy was starting to remind him of himself.
On yet another floor, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley were sitting in their dormitory. Hermione was perched on the windowsill, scraping the bottom of a hot chocolate mug with her spoon. Ginny was sprawled on the floor with a slightly dated copy of a wizarding fashion magazine.
"Gin, do you ever feel sorry for Malfoy?" Hermione questioned, not taking her eyes off of her empty mug.
Her friend snorted derisively. "Honestly, 'Mione. What kind of question is that?"
"I mean it! Come on, he has horrible parents."
"His dad is horrible. His mum, though, I could feel bad for her." Ginny said thoughtfully as she flipped a page in her magazine.
Hermione wasn't surprised in the least. Ginny, as a "blood traitor" Weasley had always loathed the Malfoys. Especially after what happened in her second year, Ginny's first year. Hermione shuddered a bit and Ginny looked up.
"What're you thinking about?" the younger girl asked. Hermione smiled a bit. Ginny had always been able to read her like a book. Even though she was a year younger, she understood Hermione's feelings pretty well. It was nice to have a girl friend, especially when she was surrounded by the idiocy that is Ron and Harry.
This time, however, Hermione didn't want to share her feelings with Ginny. It was sort of an unspoken agreement to never bring up the unfortunate possession murder attempt that had changed Ginny's life.
After a pause, Hermione responded. "Snape's assigned a few feet about the use of snake fangs in healing potions and I don't know if I'm well versed enough in the topic to produce a satisfactory essay."
A crumpled ball of magazine hit the side of Hermione's head before she even finished her sentence.
"Shut it 'Mione. You know that you know everything about everything."
Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but deciding against it, instead unfurled the magazine page that had previously been used as Ginny's weapon of choice.
There was a large picture of a model wearing sky blue robes, a few magic (literally!) diet advertisements, and an ad for a necklace for sale.
"Look at this necklace Gin! It would go well with that cashmere sweater of mine, don't you think?"
The other girl hummed in agreement. "Where are they selling it?"
"Oh, it's at Dervish & Banges." Hermione replied, scanning the ad.
"That's a bit odd," Ginny said, wrinkling her brow, "for Dervish & Banges to be selling a necklace. Don't they mainly deal with magical objects?"
Hermione shrugged. "I suppose."
"Well," Ginny continued, "the next Hogsmeade visit is in a couple weeks. I figure we can check it out then."
Her friend nodded, picked up the empty mug that had been forgotten, and continued staring out the window, watching the raindrops converge on the glass and slide to the bottom of the pane.