Harry Potter, Head of Slytherin

Author's Note: Once again, the muse strikes. The following is a brief scene that the muse gave me in leu of some Ritually Yours. The muse is apparently is being encouraged by some people who think that this story is worth a sixty-two part epic. It's not, at least I don't think so. In any case, don't expect any more of this. The muse has promised to work on a few long term projects if I'd just do this scene ... if you tempt her too much and she reneges on the deal, I've arranged for detention with Professor Snape.

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Scene the Second: Dining with Draco

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Daphne Greengrass lifted Draco into the high chair that had been provided for him. It was not a very comfortable chair. First of all, it was made of oak, and had no padding. Second of all, Daphne had practically shoved him into the chair. Being two, he wasn't developed at all, really, but it still hurt when that dowel hit between his legs. She really should be more careful. The chair was cold. Draco squirmed as his naked butt landed on the seat.

He was not looking forward to this meal. They were not eating in the great hall, due to that buffoon Nott messing up a simple prank. Instead they were eating in a glorified store room. The tables were not even polished. There seemed to be a stack of the same square table tops over in the corner. Judging from the marks on the wall, they'd been stacked at least twice as high at some point in time.

Draco looked around, trying to figure out the seating. There were eight to table, two on each side. Pansy had taken a seat across from him, and Greengrass appeared to have been appointed to sit next to him. The rest of the table, as far as Draco was concerned was filled with first year no names that Greengrass had taken under her wings earlier in the year. None of them were well connected. One of them was actually a mudblood.

He looked to his right. Greengrass was wearing his prefect badge. Draco couldn't help himself, as he slammed his fist on to the table.

"I suggest you avoid the temper tantrums, Draco, even if you current age makes them perfectly understandable," Greengrass said. "Pansy, are you okay?"

Draco looked across the table. Pansy was his girl. He knew her moods. There were tears escaping from her eyes. Pansy knew how to cry crocodile tears, but Draco knew these were real. Something must have happened. "Pansy?" Draco added. His toddler voice didn't sound right to him. He thought it sounded like he was pleading for attention. Draco didn't like to sound like that.

"Nott told me that Draco couldn't protect me or himself anymore," Pansy practically sobbed.

Draco found himself looking around the room, trying to find where Nott was seated so he could curse him. How dare he think he could do anything to Pansy. There he was, almost completely on the other side of the room. He was behind Potter, who had apparently invited his friends to eat with him. Draco wished he could curse Nott. No one made Pansy cry.

As Draco stared, Potter got up and headed over. Draco kept his glare focused on Nott. He had heard that Potter had once blown up his aunt. Maybe if he stared hard enough, he could do the same to Nott. After all, he was now of the age where accidental magic happened all the time.

"Is there a problem at this table?" Professor Potter asked as he came to stand behind Pansy.

"Not an immediate issue, sir," Greengrass said, as Draco continued to stare at Nott. He had to move his head a bit when Weasley leaned back. "We have some potential issues with Nott and Draco returning to that room. Pansy tells me that Nott told her that now that Draco isn't a prefect he's going to get some. Knowing Nott, I'm going to need to pay close attention to his behavior with the first through third years."

"I see," Potter replied.

Draco thought he was starting to effect Nott, judging by Nott having to unbutton his collar, but Pansy's statement and what Greengrass had just said was enough for him to turn to Potter. "I caught Nott with a first year on the second night this year." Draco said. "He planned to do the same thing he did to Regina Wiggins last year. Not that she can tell that he did. Not with the suppressor crown he's got."

"I see," Potter said, as Draco turned back to staring at Nott. Suppressor crowns were highly illegal. If you put them on someone's head, they wouldn't remember anything until you took them off. "There will be a full inspection of all dorm rooms tonight. I'm going to have to call in extra prefects from other houses. Daphne, I'm going to leave you in charge here, along with Ginny, for a little outside house supervision. I want you both to find out if there are other girls Nott might of done. Tell me how well Ginny does, later."

Draco started to smile. Across the room Nott was inflating. The buttons on his shirt were shooting off, and his pants were starting to rip. As he rose towards the ceiling, commotion broke out on that side of the room, attracting Potter's attention.

"You know, I never found out how they fixed Aunt Marge."