Disclaimer: Okay, I lied. The 'Reader' is going to be included in this story forever. In some intervals, that is. And this isn't a disclaimer.
Protecting a So Far Unprotected Witness
'Harry, slow down,' said Hermione soothingly, 'just tell us again what that dream was about. You were a bit incoherent last time.'
'Okay. I will start again.' Harry took a huge breath and explained. 'I had a nightmare. It sort of resembled, no wait, felt like a comic book. In it, Dumbledore died. And Lucius Malfoy was dressed in pink robes and was conducting the funeral. And I was "The Protagonist". And there was this "Reader" who knew what was going to happen, but I couldn't interact with her. Or him. I think the "Reader" was genderless. And then I talked. And everything stopped and Malfoy vanished. And my wand melted. And I looked at the coffin, and it contained "The Antagonist" who was Voldemort.'
At that name, Ron choked on his milk while Hermione ignored him.
'And then you woke up and your scar started to hurt…' she said thoughtfully, while Ron continued spluttering.
'Yeah. The funny thing was, I had this feeling that the "Reader" was still there with me. Only I couldn't see her. Or him. What the hell did it mean? Has Voldemort come back to life? Or is this dream trying to tell me something, because I have never had a dream like this before.'
Harry set his head on his aching arms and breathed in the comforting scent of the breakfast table. Which was also the same table as the lunch one and the dinner one. He could smell all three previous meals of yesterday. Finally, something ordinary.
'Maybe you shouldn't have told Dobby you fancied ice-cream,' suggested Ron, who had finished his choking fit.
At the mention of this particular piece of house-elf labor, Hermione forgot about the dream and narrowed her eyes. 'Did you pay him, Harry?'
Before Harry could raise his head and lie a positive 'yes', there came a vague and dreamy 'Hello,' from behind them. It was Luna.
'I just came to warn you guys that you shouldn't eat ice-cream before bed. It can cause The Lurid Raipur to give you a nightmare.'
'Thanks Luna.' Came Harry's muffled reply.
'Potter's been having nightmares?' The jarring voice of Draco Malfoy came. He was strangely unaccompanied by neither the flanking figures of Crabbe and Goyle, who were busily stuffing themselves with bacon at the Slytherin table, nor the simpering figure of Pansy Parkinson. 'Did you say Potter's been having nightmares?'
'Shut up Malfoy,' said Harry, while secretly wondering what Malfoy would look like in pink robes. Would he resemble his father in any way?
The Reader notices how Hermione seemed to have ignored Ron. The Reader knows that this is a Dramione fanfic and wonders if this is a device for Hermione and Ron to separate. The Reader also wonders if this fanfic will become cliché and sappy.
'Aw, how sad. Is ickle baby Hawwy Potter having nightmares abwout big scawy Dementors?' smirked Malfoy mockingly, not having heard the earlier bits of the conversation.
Hermione rose to the rescue, having forgiven Harry for not paying Dobby, because she knew that he didn't.
'Well, Malfoy, better than having to wake up and realize "Damn! I'm still a near-albino ferret with no life and no plans apart from just trying to ruin the lives of people better than me!"'
He stopped smirking immediately. 'Watch your tongue mudblood. Don't want to come to a sticky end, do you?'
'Voldemort's gone, Malfoy. Your pathetic overlord's arse, of which you kiss, is gone.'
The Reader wonders if these hot-tempered sentences are any indication of 'sexual tensions' or 'chemistry' between Hermione and Malfoy. Were those words a filler for the pheromones?
Luna, who seemed to not had heard anything of which was going on, turned around and set her large orb-like eyes on Malfoy. 'You're Draco Malfoy. You're not very nice.'
'Err… yes… right,' answered Malfoy, unnerved by the sight of this strange girl. He edged away a little.
'What are you doing here Malfoy? If you're just here to mock us in our "soiled and unredeemable" state, then go back to the loser corner.' Growled Ron. Hermione gave him an appraising look for a witty use of words which, coming from him, she had never heard before.
'Dumbledore wants a word with me, you, Granger and the other prefects straight away after breakfast.' With that, and a swish of immaculately pressed robes, he strutted away, half anxious to put as much distance between Luna – who was still staring at him – and him as possible, not knowing that she was from Ravenclaw therefore her seat was right behind his.
'Git,' muttered Ron under his breath.
'Bye Harry, Ron and Hermione!' said Luna rather cheerfully, and she skipped away.
The Reader is puzzled at the unnecessary use of Luna. Is this perhaps a distraction? He or She is also disappointed in the fact that Hermione is not ignoring Ron. It would have made the story a few chapters shorter.
'What could Dumbledore possibly want to say to us that he couldn't have said yesterday at the feast?' Hermione wondered out loud as she, with a small frown, slowly chewed on a piece of toast.
'Dunno.' Ron said, noisily shoveling down the rest of his breakfast while Hermione watched with a mild disgust.
'Back to that dream though,' said Harry, acting as if Malfoy hadn't pointlessly wasted five minutes of their time, 'what do you guys reckon?'
'Well,' said Hermione, putting her toast down, 'it does seem like you ate too much ice-cream before bed, but it's a little odd that you should be having a dream about Voldemort, when you haven't had one for months, especially that this one's so real…' she tailed off uncertainly.
'How's this theory? What if he still had another Horcrux hidden somewhere?' asked Ron excitedly.
'Ron, don't eat with your mouth open! It's repulsive.' Hermione wrinkled her nose.
Ron rolled his eyes while masticating his bacon, 'Fine.'
'We've been through this with Dumbledore, Ron. It has to be six because therefore his soul would be in seven pieces. And anyway Harry, just because your scar hurt at exactly the same time when you had that dream, doesn't mean that it's because of Voldemort. Maybe it's just a coincidence. Or, actually, I have read this book about curse scars where the curser is already deceased, so maybe-'
'You read way too much, Hermione.' said Ron through a forkful of sausage.
Hermione ignored that comment, 'Or maybe it's a warning, maybe there's another more dangerous event ahead, even though Voldemort's already dead. Maybe it's one of those foretelling dreams that are actually true. So it has absolutely nothing to do with Voldemort.'
'Will you quit saying his name?' asked Ron, his voice muffled by the plate that he was polishing off with his tongue.
Harry looked relieved. 'Thanks Hermione.'
'It's nothing,' though she looked pleased that she did something good. Just then the bell rang. 'Oh! Have fun in Defense Against the Dark Arts! And don't forget to tell us what the new professor's like.'
Hermione hurried off (dragging a grumpy Ron who wanted to finish his orange juice) to the Head Girl, Head Boy and Prefects meeting, leaving Harry to walk on his own to DADA. They were having a new teacher this year who Dumbledore mentioned might be going to stay for good, since the curse Voldemort set was gone.
The Reader, who might want to be called something else – well, too bad – is exasperated with the overuse of the whole 'Malfoy is also Head Boy' plot. Who in their right mind would make him Head Boy? Even if Lucius was using money and influence, Dumbledore would never be a corrupt person to elect Malfoy as Head Boy.
0o0o
His steps filled the silence of the room and he sighed.
Draco Malfoy had already arrived at the meeting place and was waiting for the rest of the people to do the same.
He already knew what Dumbledore was going to tell them, and because of that, he was in a bad mood throughout breakfast which had not been helped by the cruel and thoughtless jibe that that bushy haired, buck-tooth, molared, mudblood and rather common and plain looking Granger had thrown at him.
How can they think him as an albino ferret? It was outrageous! He had a good figure, he had some type of skill, he had… looks and more importantly, he had a girlfriend! He didn't see Potty or Weasel with a girlfriend. He didn't really like his girlfriend, and speaking of girlfriends-
'Drakie-poo!' came an annoying squeal.
-he really hoped that Pansy wasn't the first person to arrive after him… but here she was.
Pansy was sashaying towards him in a way in which she probably supposed was attractive, but in truth, it just made her rear end wiggle.
He had no idea what made her think she was so attractive. Her mirror was probably broken.
When she attempted to sit on his lap, he pushed her off, making her land with a thump on the floor. 'Dr-a-a-c-o-o,' she whined, 'don't you want me to show you a surprise?'
'No!' he tried to get rid of her by being nice. 'Just, just please leave me alone Pansy. Really, please.'
'Why on earth would you want me to leave you alone? I'm your girlfriend. I have to be with you, or what's the point?'
She had a good reason there. And the niceness didn't work after all.
'Why do I listen to my parents?' he muttered. He changed seats, leaving her to try and figure out what he just said.
She stood up to try and scramble after him, but in the nick of time, the rest of the people started to arrive. She slowly sank back into her chair as other people racketed around, filling their seats, with a pouting expression on her face.
Granger sat next to Draco, as Head Girl and Boy needed to sit next to each other. He thought it really unfair. Whatever happened to free will and sitting with whoever you liked?
Weasel sat next to Granger, and they talked in low hushed voices, making sure that no one else could hear them. Draco leant to his left sideways slightly, to hear what they were talking about and possibly using the information for future blackmail.
0o0o
The Reader thinks it's unfair that She or He cannot give His or Her opinion when it's Draco's POV. Oh well.
'You were only saying that to make him feel better, weren't you?'
'For once in your life, Ron, you actually noticed something.'
'Don't make fun of me Hermione. How could he-'
'Not now Ron!' hissed Hermione. She inclined her head towards Malfoy who then looked away with an unconvincing air of innocence.
'What did you hear Malfoy?'
'I have better things to do than to listen to other people's conversations.'
Which wasn't actually true, since his life depended one listening to other people's conversations.
Before she or Ron could say more, Dumbledore came in. At once the chattering stopped, and everybody focused their attention on him.
His face had far, far more lines than normally and for once in his life; he looked the part of a tired old man.
'Prefects and Heads,' here, he gave Hermione and Malfoy and little smile, 'a student in our midst is in danger.'
Everyone except for Malfoy gasped. His head was bowed and his face was unfathomable.
'Mister Malfoy here,' and everyone's head swiveled and craned to look at him, 'had, in the later part of the summer holidays, unknowingly come across an illegal dragon trade gathering. Of course, the dragon traders tried to do away with him, and he barely escaped with his life. His parents wish for the school to protect their son, as it can provide all sorts of enchantments and spells to shelter him from the harm of being hunted down by them. He will be kept in one House which will help defend him. That is why I have asked for you all to come here today to this meeting.'
Prefects from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw all shifted uncomfortably in their seat. None of them wanted to "protect" – as Dumbledore had said – Malfoy.
'I have already decided, so Mister Malfoy will be moved into the dormitories of that House and stay there for the rest of the year until the Ministry of Magic, to whom his parents have reported to, has caught the dragon traders.'
Now everyone looked even more uncomfortable. Protecting was one thing, but living in and sharing their common rooms and dormitories?
Malfoy had already known that others would feel this way. 'Professor, can't I just stay in Slytherin?'
Dumbledore chuckled a bit.
'I take that you would prefer to stay in your own House, Mister Malfoy?'
'Yes… sir.'
'The traders are a set of highly intelligent escaped ex-Death Eaters who, until recently, were hiding in Paris, and they will stop at nothing to capture and kill you. Their dragon trading is their only livelihood these days. They know that you reside in the House of Slytherin, so therefore, it is the first place they will search for you if they ever manage to find a way to get into this school. Therefore, although I know all of you are willing enough to take Draco Malfoy into your Houses,' many people coughed loudly or expressed incredulous looks, but Dumbledore carried on as if nothing had happened, 'he must stay in the least likely place. I have arranged for him to stay in Gryffindor for the rest of the year. Miss Granger and Mister Weasley, will you be kind enough to escort him back to your common room?'
But Hermione, Ron and Malfoy were all too horrified to move.
'He has to WHAT?' shouted Hermione and Ron.
'I have to WHAT?' yelled Malfoy, eyes bulging and apoplectic with rage. 'I agreed for protection knowing people would laugh at me! If these traders are so intelligent, then why are they hunting me instead of fleeing for their lives?'
But Dumbledore just smiled serenely and gave no answer nor explanation. Instead he said, 'Calm yourselves down. At dinner, I will inform the rest of the school about our arrangement, just in case there will be misunderstandings. My word, rumors spread fast these days.'
And with that, he strode out of the room, leaving a shocked silence as everybody contemplated on what kind of chaos and fiascos would ensue for the rest of the year.
The Reader is confused. And has many objections and plot lines that seem far more better than the current one. But this story is by Someone Else. There is nothing the Reader can do but to keep reading and make do with what's available.
A/N: I think everything's quite clear… just review. Okay? Just. Review.
