Here's the next chapter!
Draco stepped off of the train, smirking to himself. "That'll teach Saint Potter," he thought, looking around and adjusting his robes. He confidently marched over to the carriages and stepped in front of Blaise Zabini, climbing into the carriage before him.
"What do you think-" Blaise started, looking angry.
"Shut it, Zabini." Malfoy carefully stepped into the horseless carriage and sat next to Crabbe.
"Where were you, Draco?" asked Pansy, inching closer to him.
"I don't believe that's any of your business," he answered with a sly smile. He was actually getting quite annoyed with Pansy. She would never leave him alone, but he enjoyed all the attention he received from her. "But let's just say that somebody definitely got what was coming to them." He glanced around and saw a familiar redhead staring at him from the carriage next to theirs. He was frowning slightly with a bushy-haired girl next to him. Draco rolled his eyes and gestured a punch to his nose. "Let's just hope that Potter has enough nose left in him so I could hit him again," he sniggered.
"You didn't!"
Malfoy smirked. "I did." He gestured around. "Do you even see him anywhere? That half-blood is going to be halfway back to London before anyone realizes that he's gone. And come off it, who's really going to care?"
"I could think of one person," Blaise said, referring to their headmaster.
"Shut it, Zabini. You always find a way to bring down the mood." Draco looked angrily at Blaise. "Besides, Dumbledore's not always going to be here to protect Potter, so who cares what that Mudblood lover wants?"
About forty-five minutes later, Draco began filling up his plate with food from all over the Slytherin table. The Sorting had already been completed and he wasn't interested in talking to the new students for this school year. He was no longer a prefect, so he no longer had to put up a pretense that showed that he actually cared about the school.
He didn't belong here. He was on his way to bigger and better things.
He just had to complete this one teeny, little mission first.
Draco sneered at the sight of Dumbledore at the staff table. "You won't be there for long," he thought.
But a part of him was worried. Terrified, even.
If Dumbledore found out his plan, would he be kicked out? It would be harder to kill Dumbledore from beyond the walls of Hogwarts, so Draco knew that all he had to do was keep his head straight and make sure that Dumbledore didn't find out.
Easy enough. Right?
Draco rolled his eyes trying to think of it all. He wasn't paying attention to the usual argument between Crabbe and Goyle over the last dinner roll and instead turned with amusement to the Gryffindor table. He smirked, seeing blood on Potter's clothes.
"So you decided to come after all," Draco said softly. He was quietly watching the Gryffindor table, at Potter talking to Weasley.
Blaise followed his gaze. "You would think he would clean up first," he said, mildly interested.
Draco shrugged his shoulders. "No matter. He'll be staying out of my way this year. I'm sure of it."
"Whatever you say, Malfoy."
Draco narrowed his eyes at Blaise, but didn't say anything. He had to remind himself that the other Slytherins didn't know what he had done over the summer. They didn't know that he was no longer a regular schoolboy at Hogwarts.
He was a part of the Dark Lord's circle now. He was a member of the wizarding elite.
And when he would kill that damned Muggle-lover, he and his family would be praised as the Dark Lord's most loyal supporters above all.
A few days later, Draco settled into his familiar seat in the Potions dungeon. He kept his eyes down and didn't notice when Blaise took the seat in front of him.
"Malfoy," he said as he sat down.
Draco looked up in annoyance and merely nodded to Blaise in acknowledgement. He glanced around the Potions room and noticed that there were no more than twelve students in the room for N.E.W.T. Potions. Along with himself and Blaise, Millicent Bulstrode and Theodore Nott, two others from Slytherin were in the class. That Hufflepuff Macmillan boy was in here, too. And those Ravenclaws. Draco never bothered to learn their names.
And them.
What were they doing here?
They're not smart enough to be in here. Well, okay, maybe that mudblood Granger is, but Potter and Weasley?
Draco barely listened to the new Potions professor, but his ears perked up at the sound of the Polyjuice Potion. It was precisely what he needed to be sure that his plan would work. He would have to find some way to cunningly steal the contents of this potion so he could use it for himself.
Ugh. That mudblood is talking again.
Draco leaned over to Nott and whispered, "And the filthy mudblood speaks again. Can't wait to see what our new Potions master has in store for her." The two of them sniggered.
He glanced over at Slughorn and nearly scowled hearing the praise coming from his mouth. He recoiled at Slughorn giving that damn mudblood 20 points for being a know-it-all. He looked over at Nott and the two of them smirked at each other, both not believing Slughorn when he said that the Amortentia potion was probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in the room.
Please. Now that was stupid.
He found himself desperately wishing that Snape was still teaching this subject. Snape, at least, kept the class entertaining. He found his mind wandering away to think of the details of his plan again.
"...liquid luck. It makes you lucky!"
Draco's ears perked up.
Makes you lucky? I need that.
That was exactly what he needed to be able to carry out his plan perfectly. A little extra luck couldn't go remiss, could it?
He sat up, straight in his chair, and finally gave Slughorn his undivided attention.
Perfect days, huh? Exactly what I need.
He feverishly paged through his copy of Advanced Potion-Making, trying to find the correct page. He nearly passed it in his haste to complete his potion quickly. He leaned over and read through the contents of the potion as fast as he could and got to work, cutting up his valerian roots as fast as he could.
Draco happened to look up and saw that Professor Slughorn was circling his way toward their table. A little sucking up couldn't help. He opened his mouth to speak in the most respectful voice he could muster.
"Sir, I think you knew my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy?"
Slughorn nodded absentmindedly at him and said a few words. Draco's eyes narrowed.
Okay, so cross Slughorn off of my list.
He continued to quickly work on his potion. When he looked up from it again, he saw Slughorn across the room with the damn Gryffindors, and everyone else was concentrating on their own potion. If he casually walked by the Ravenclaw table, surely he could slip some Polyjuice Potion in his robes.
He pulled his wand out and held it under the table. He whispered something and conjured up a few glass flasks. Draco quickly glanced around the room and slowly walked toward the Ravenclaw table, with a hand full of valerian roots. He dropped it on the table and smirked at the looks of the Ravenclaws. Draco didn't say a word to any of them; he just switched out his own valerian roots for the ones that a dark-haired one had been cutting up perfectly.
"Thank you for this, I needed it." Draco held up a hand full of valerian roots and headed back to his table, smirking at the success of his plan. The Ravenclaws were staring at him with their jaws open as if they couldn't believe what he had just done. Well, at least he completed a piece of his plan: he was able to slyly steal some of the Polyjuice Potion and nobody seemed to know.
Draco sat down and waited for Slughorn to reach his table to examine his potion. The new professor merely looked at it and nodded a bit, but didn't say a word about it. He moved on to the Gryffindor table and called the mudblood's potion "passable." And when he got to Potter's cauldron, he praised him.
What the hell?
Draco threw a murderous glance at Potter. There was no way in hell he won the Felix Felicis. He needed that luck. He listened as Weasley asked Potter how he managed to win the Felix potion.
Lucky! No way could he be that lucky.
Draco gathered his things and threw it all together before angrily departing to the common room.
He went straight to his dormitory and deposited his school bag into his trunk. He sat on his bed and drew the curtains shut around him.
"Lumos," he said, lightening the tip of his wand. He pulled out the pages of notes that he brought with him and spread it out on his bed.
He spent hours studying the drawings and blueprints of the Vanishing Cabinet and used his quill to pencil in extra notes from the ones he received from Borgin. He glanced at a calendar and wondered when the best time would be to begin work on mending the broken Cabinet.
He remembered Montague telling him how to get into the Room of Hidden Things, where the Vanishing Cabinet was located.
Montague couldn't remember how the Weasley twins had managed to follow him into the Room of Hidden Things, but they did and they stuffed him into the Vanishing Cabinet before he could manage to curse the pair of them.
All he had to do was go up to the seventh floor and walk past the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy three times, thinking about what he wanted. The entrance would appear and Draco could freely come and go from it as he pleased.
But he needed help.
People that would help him, no questions asked. And people that were dumb enough to go along with his plan, no matter what.
Draco sat still at the sound of movement in the dormitory. He heard Crabbe and Goyle loudly smacking their lips, no doubt eating some other sweet that they snuck off from the dinner table. He wickedly smiled and glanced at the flasks of Polyjuice Potion that lay on his bed.
Excellent. They would be perfect.