Disclaimer: I do not own any of J. K. Rowling's characters. Do you think that if I were J.K. Rowling, I would actually be doing this? Anyways, read and enjoy.

Ch. 3 Quidditch Talk

Walking back through the dark hallways towards my house dorms, I almost felt jealous of the first years walking behind me. Well... almost.

I mean, how jealous can you get of a few pathetic first years?

We didn't pass any stair cases, the Slytherin dorms were in the dungeons.

'Dragon blood,' I announced to the portrait of one of Hogwarts old headmasters- a Slytherin of course.

'Enter,' he said solemnly and the huge portrait swung open, grandly.

I walked straightly through the small tunnel which led to the common rooms. There was a fire lit, though I felt no heat as I looked around the shades of green. It wasn't a very welcoming sight, to look around at the various couches and chairs, all split into there own groups. Many portraits of famous dark wizards were hung up around the room, and a lush carpet was at my feet.

'Pansy will lead the girls to their dorms,' I looked her way and she nodded,' and boys follow me, I will show you your rooms.' I walked up the stone staircase and down a long hallway with doors and more hallways branching out of it.

'First years,' I waved my hand to the left and kept on walking, 'second,' I waved my hand to the right, 'third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh. Any questions?' I looked back and a second year held up his hand. 'Good, know if anyone does have a question, ask Pansy,' I turned to my door and murmured, 'she knows these dorms better than I do.'

Entering my room, I started to undress. Slipping my night shirt over my head, I looked around to those sleeping with me. Vincent and Gregory were mimicking my actions accordingly. I looked over to Nott and Zambini, they seemed to be deep in conversation. Only having to listen for a few seconds, I understood what they were talking about.

'You don't know why I didn't make Head Boy?' I challenged them. Quickly, Zambini looked my way, then looked back at Nott, who looked at me coolly.

'We weren't talking about you not getting Head Boy,' Zambini said.

'Why am I always surrounded by idiots?' I said through clenched teeth. Zambini had simply given it away.

'Well,' said Nott, 'You surely can't blame us for wondering,' he said, with a slight raise of his eyebrows.

'Why wonder,' I said, 'I knew it straight away; it was so obvious.'

'What was,' said Zambini, looking at me, hooked with curiosity.

'Potter didn't make it since the old fool is being easy on him, since he wants him to beat the Dark Lord,' I said easily, 'so his only choice was Weasley. Dumbledore was sure to pick a Gryffindor like himself.'

'Oh,' said Zambini, 'I thought you should have made it, though.'

'Ya,' Gregory piped up, 'me too.'

Vincent cut in, 'I agree; after all, I knew there was some reason behind it.'

Sitting down on his bed, Nott didn't say a word. He just laid down and closed his curtains.

I sat down as well, and pulled my warm cover around me. It was always cold in the dungeons, summer or winter never affected the temperature.

The next morning, I got my schedule just as I sat down at my table. Yes, arithmacy, potions, charms, transfiguration, muggle studies, divinations... the average... needed to become a school governor.

Yes, that's what I want to be.

It's a safe job. You're seen as a fine man to the public and parents of the students. No one would ever expect anything... illegal... of you.

Safety... always good.

Then there's always Potter of course. An auror. Ha! He wants to be an auror! That's just like him. Playing the hero... then again, with all hope he won't even be alive out of school.

The week passed by quickly; the homework load was definitely more than last year. It seemed that the teacher's actually cared about the NEWT's. But, those professors don't care enough, obviously.

So, here I am, again, in the large library.

And, Granger just has to sit at that table like every year.

I looked over to the table near the middle of the library where Granger was positively surrounded with books and had various quills and ink generously displayed around her.

Shaking my head, I walked by the shelves, trailing my finger down a few books. I'll need this, and this... stupid charms homework... and this for McGonagall... I know all this anyway... doesn't she know I'm an Animagus... oh, and this.

With a pile of books floating behind me, I made my way over to a table in a darker corner. Ok, I thought reasonably, I'll finish that homework, since it'll take longer, and then...

But, my thinking was interrupted by a shadow trailing over my books. Looking up slowly, with a well placed smirk, I asked, 'Missing any books, Granger?'

'No,' she said smoothly, 'I would just like to remind you that you have your prefect rounds tonight with Pansy.'

'As if I'd forget this most pleasant arrangement for the evening,' I said sarcastically, 'What time?'

Granger looked at me with a knowing smile, 'Nine 'till twelve... like every time. Remember?'

'Of course, I do,' I replied hastily. Granger looked at me, as if waiting for something... what? Did she think I would thank her or something?... then walked away and sat down to work, again.

Ugh, I thought. I hate these prefect rounds I have to go on. And with Parkinson! I ran my hands through my hair, then realizing what I had done, quickly stopped. I had messed up my sleek hair! I hate this awful habit. Who actually runs their hands through their hair when thinking?

I put my hand down, picked up my quill, and got to work.

'Shut up, Parkinson.'

'But, Dracky Pooh,' she squealed...

Glaring at her, I said, 'I forbade you to call me that.'

'But, no one's around,' she said in this unusual high pitch voice, that I had recognized as a girl's voice.

Looking around at my watch, I realized that I had only twenty minutes to go before Prefect Rounds were over. Then, I could lay down in my bed and sleep peacefully, without Parkinson.

'I missed you a lot over the summer Draco,' she said quietly, looking my way. 'I kept on thinking about you.'

'Good,' I said shortly, walking down another hallway.

Following me, she caught up and said, 'I talked about you a lot, too.'

'Good,' I repeated- what was the girl going on about?

'My parents would like to meet you,' she said, looking my way, again.

'Good,' I said, another dinner party.

'We'd like to talk about our marriage plans.'

'G- What!' I looked at Parkinson, like she had sprouted horns.

'marriage-'

'I heard what you said,' I snapped, 'Where did you come up with marriage plans? What else have you been making up!'

'Well, we've been going out for years.'

'Going out?'

'And we care for each other...'

'CARE?'

'and want to spend the rest of our lives with each other.'

'You told them that!' This girl was definitely the devil in a Barbie suit. 'There is nothing- absolutely nothing between us. Do you understand!'

'But... but,' her eyes seemed to be filling with tears- fake ofcourse.

'Enough,' I said. My hand was going up to my hair, but I pulled it down again. 'It's over, this is over. Everything- these rounds are over, too. Let's go to our dorms.'

Why am I even playing this useless sport, again?

I'm walking back through the hallways to the Slytherin dorms with my team- and Parkinson- after a long training practice on the field. We were practicing our team tactics. Of course, they were brilliant; I as captain had come up with them.

So, why was I playing Quidditch again? Oh, yes. Because, Potter does it, and I have to beat him at it.

'I don't see why you even bother with that pathetic sport. It's not like you're the best in it.'

I turn around to coolly face Nott- why did I even put him as a beater. 'I'm the best in whatever I do, Thomas. Make sure you remember that.'

'Sure, I'll remember,' he grumbled. 'But, I definitely won't forget the number of times Potter beat you to the Snitch.'

Oooh, he's in trouble now. 'If you value your life,' I said with a quick flick of my wand- now thoroughly pissed at his rivalry,' You'll take that back.'

'I can't forget what's pasted in my mind.'

The team around us went ominously quiet. They looked at each other with quick, short glances- unsure of what was going to happen next.

'Not if you can't remember it,' I slid my wand to his neck and his face, though it paled slightly, stayed infuriatingly calm. Suddenly, I had another idea, 'How brave of you to say that, Thomas. Almost, too brave... and foolish. Maybe, you should have stuck with the rest of the fools in Gryffindor.'

He gasped; I had treated him with the worst insult imaginable, a similarity with a Gryffindor.

'Next thing we know,' I said to the crowd whom had all slunk behind me, as if afraid to catch the Gryffindor disease, 'Nott'll be living in a high tower, all cozy,' I smirked at his withering face, 'and have Potter as his best friend and be Dumbledore's pet. He might resort you then,' I said straight to him, 'into Gryffindor. Who knows? Maybe when you've started wearing maroon like the Weasel, you might even get friendly with the Mudblood.'

I looked back at Nott's face... and strangely enough he looked very sad, like he might even cry. His dark brown eyes met mine,

Asking me to stop

Begging me to forgive him

Asking me to let him

'Run,'

I whispered,

and he turned tail and ran.

'Run!' I shouted after his lonely figure, tripping and racing like a mouse to its hole down the dark hallway.

'Run, you Slytherin!

Run.'

I turned my back to his sobs. And walked my own way. Satisfied. Nott wouldn't annoy me anymore.

I had forgiven him.

Author's Note: This chapter has been editedSorry, this took so long. I was busy working on later parts in this story. Please read and review. Tell me about everything that went through your head while reading this post. Oh, and if you don't understand the last part, tell me so I can clear it up.