Staring down at her porridge, Ginny couldn't help but think that she'd gotten the short end of the deal. Not only did she have to subsist on cold grainy oatmeal, in a sea of unknown dangers, impossible challenges, and very bitchy girls, but she wouldn't even get any credit for saving the wizarding world and mankind in general like Ron and Harry and Hermione probably would.
Funny how he saves the world every year. He's off rescuing us all from impending doom, and I'm sitting in the dining room, next to owls, and cold porridge. Strange world I live in. She sighed, and took a bite.
An elbow dug into her side. She glared, at that elbow.
"What?" She said a tad crossly. She was happier moping over her porridge.
"Professor Snape," Neville answered through a muffled bit of toast. The talking slowly ceased, as Snape made his way towards the teacher's table.
"As of this year there will be no more Prefects," He said. Silence. He rolled his eyes.
"Instead, the most exemplary students will be officers. They will, along with the teachers not only have the ability to mark points from the houses, but also reprimand rule-breakers," He said. This time he stopped, satisfied with the shock value of his statement. He counted. 1, blank stares. 2, curiousity. 3, dawning comprhension. 4, furrowed brows. 5, utter rage. The dining room erupted.
Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff turned into giant masses of angry teenager. Voices rose angry bellows, a giant humming roar.
Ginny screamed along with them, letting her voice melt away into all the rest.
"That's not fucking fair. This is a school not a popularity contest," she yelled with the other Gryffindors. Panic began to set in. She couldn't be stuck at this school with these power hungry lunatics for an entire year. The school began to cave in on her. How dare they trap her here, and force her to swallow their idiotic rules. There was no way this would end well.
"Sit down," Snap said calmly at first. No one paid him any mind.
"I said SIT DOWN," he repeated. Reluctantly, everyone sat.
"Wanker," Ginny said, loud enough for the other students to hear. She plopped down then, feeling as if she did her duty.
"Strong reactions when I haven't named the school officers yet. Though your reactions do re affirm my choices," he comment drily. The Slytherin table unmoved until that moment, grinned in unison.
"Professor McGonagall however will be the one who has the pleasure of informing you all of the candidates. Professor," he said. With a wave of his arm he gestured for her to step forward. Looking as if she was about to be physically ill, she began to speak.
"The officers will be Draco Malfoy, Millicent Bulstrode. Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini. All from Slytherin," she said, as if that fact was astonishing. Then as if remembering it wasn't glared at Snape through her bifocals.
"You're all dismissed," Snape said, not bothering to look at the students. He glared back at Professor McGonagall. The students left in a hurry. They couldn't take many more new 'rules'.
"I warned you on the train to behave better," a quiet mocking voice to her right drawled. Ginny looked up from her schedule. Malfoy matched her quick pace in long steady strides, a smooth stroll. Sometimes Ginny hated being petite. She could never out run anyone.
"What's that s'posed to mean?" she said taking the bait. Glancing up from the crumpled piece of paper ever so often. The early morning sun light hit his hair, illuminating it, unearthly glowing silver. His skin was so pale, she had the distinct urge to reach out and touch it.
"Well, my little blood traitor. That means ten points from Gryffindor," he said, with a grin that exposed sharp white canine teeth.
"For what? I've barely even unpacked my things, and you're marking points off," Ginny said. She was beginning to forget why she'd thought a truce between the two of them was possible. The problem was clearly not Ron.
"Language. You called the esteemed Professor Snape a wanker," Malfoy said.
"You don't give a damn about Professor Snape-" His smile cut her off. Malicious and condescending it deeply resembled the few times that she had the displeasure of meeting Lucious Malfoy.
"I know that you're family is trash, so I really shouldn't expect you speak in a manner any more refined than a common whore, but I'll have to dock another ten points," he said. Her eyes widened, mouth parted, a muted scream of rage escaped her lips. It took an effort not flinch. Given his record with her in the past any time she got that red tint, he nose scrunched delicately, she'd bat boogey hexed him.
"I know you're family consists of Pureblood classist Death Eaters, so I really shouldn't expect anything resembling ettiquitte from you, but I think that I shall never speak to you again," Ginny improvised on the spot. Turning on her heel, in a flurry of auburn mane she stormed away, in search of Muggle Studies.
After ten minutes of searching she finally found the classroom. Granted she wasn't exactly sure how she got there, or what floor she was on, but the important thing was that she got there by herself. Happily she ripped open the door, and was rewarded with the sight of Malfoy sitting on a desk.
She badly wanted to ask why he was there, but she couldn't very well say she'd never speak to him again, ten minutes ago, and then start a conversation. Instead she perched on a desk at the opposite end of the classroom, placing her bag on the ground haughtily and ignored his existence. His smirk vanished, cold eyes bore into her.
They sat in a tense war of wills for a few minutes, before Ginny finally broke.
"Who teaches this class?" She said. After eight long minutes of silence she looked back at him. His smirk returned in full glory.
"Why would I tell you?"
"Because you're a Slytherin. You know."
"Of course I know. What I asked is why should I tell you?"
"Nevermind," Ginny sighed. Then muttered loudly, "Arse." Malfoy ground his teeth, molars clenched tight. God Gryffindors could be self-rightous little bitches, he thought.
"Professor Alecto," he answered with a shrug. He had nonchalance down to an art.
"Alecto?"
"Yes. That's what I said," Malfoy replied, irritated.
"As in the Death Eater?"
"Yes."
"So all of our teachers are Death Eaters?"
"That'd be the idea."
Malfoy watched her body collapse. She cradled her head, elbows propped up on knees. Her skirt rode up, revealing pale thigh. A curtain of heavy red hair covered her face, and he listened to a few muffled sounds. Her body heaved. He couldn't decide if it was with laughter, or sobbing.
The room was suddenly a emptier, with just the two of them. It felt oddly intimate, to watch her hunched over on that desk, body shaking. He cleared his throat, then realized that he had no idea what to say.
She straightened, tossing her hair back, and yanking down her skirt a few inches.
"Alright then. Huh, I suppose things could be worse," She said with all the cheer she could muster. Malfoy nearly sighed in relief, he'd though she was having a mental break.
"If you say so," he said shutting her down, leaving her to ponder that statement.They sat just listening to the air, waiting for the arrival of the other students, when they heard the click of heels, and utterance of a collection of vocabulary that'd make a sailor blush. Professor Alecto had arrived.