Chapter Seven

Crooked Teeth: Draco


Last time: Blaise and Draco set loose 3 acromantulas as revenge against Ron and Harry's hair trick. Draco and Pansy have a fight about her friendship with Nott. Pansy puts a potion in Blaise's hair to make it grow.


"'Cause I built you a home in my heart with rotten wood, it decayed from the start, 'cause you can't find nothing at all, if there was nothing there all along."

Crooked Teeth - Death Cab for Cutie

If you love something, set it free. Those words had reverberated through Draco's consciousness for the better part of the past few days. He looked at Pansy across the courtyard, a smile breaking across her face at something Daphne had said.

He realized that she would never tell him what he wanted to know. She would never dare to reveal her cards. Draco had shown her his momentarily when he let down his pretense of nonchalance for the first time the other night in the Prefect's Bathroom. And now he felt a strange persisting feeling that he shouldn't have revealed so much, and another feeling that made him recoil at the thought of ever attempting to tell Pansy anything like that again.

And right then, he decided that he would do it. He would set her free. And he would feel better. Draco rarely did anything if it wasn't for his enjoyment, satisfaction or to improve his state of mind. One his earliest childhood memories was tending to his mother when she had a severe case of dragon fever. He did so not to ease her suffering, but out of fear that he would no longer have someone to coddle, coo over and comfort him.

Draco sauntered up to her with a smirk, "Daphne, do you mind if I steal Pansy away from you?"

She smiled flirtatiously back, "Oh, of course not. Go ahead."

Pansy offered a stiff smile and took his hand automatically, allowing him to lead her away. They hadn't talked much in the past few days. Hell, he had talked more to Granger.

Normally, when Draco broke up with his girlfriends, he had carefully planned excuses, revolving around his personal development, school, family, Quidditch. It's not you, it's me. I have to concentrate on school; I spend so much time thinking about you my grades are dropping. I'm breaking up with you because I'm not good for you; I need to work myself out first. But he had no idea what to say to Pansy. Reaching a deserted corridor, he pulled her to one side.

His mind was still blank, uncertain. No elaborate speech. So he just said it, "Pansy, let's break up." He looked straight into her eyes, "It just doesn't… it doesn't…" he faltered, "It doesn't feel right."

She held her face in her hands and tiptoed to kiss his forehead, "Thankyou." And then she walked away.

* * * * *

When Draco arrived in the kitchen the next morning, Granger was already there, "Morning."

"Morning." he echoed.

"How are you?" she asked. It was a genuine question, like she really wanted to know the answer. It wasn't the kind you say to the person who serves you at the Three Broomsticks, or at Zonko's.

"Better than yesterday."

"That's good to hear."

A moment passed before Draco reciprocated the question, "How are you?"

"Pretty crap." she admitted.

"People are shit. They let you down."

Both stood in silence for a moment before Hermione instructed, "We're having cereal and yogurt today."

"…Yeah, those fuckers don't deserve our effort." He smirked.

"Well I wouldn't put it quite so eloquently, but sure. Here," She handed him the carton of milk and six bowls, "Set them up."

After setting down three bowls, Draco looked over, "I set her free."

"And how do you feel about it?" she ventured.

Draco was sure that if it was anyone else he would have bitten their head off and told them to mind their own business. But Granger was different; she was so unassuming, without judgment. It was unexpected, especially from her. "Bad and good. It's right but it's wrong."

"Don't worry, it's natural. But in six months, you'll be laughing about it."

"Six months? That's a long time for me too brood, Granger." he joked.

"Six days. Whatever pleases you."

"Well what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Set anything free lately?"

"Trying to." she shrugged as she placed the yogurt and cereal on the table.

An idea filled Draco's mind; something exciting, fun, a new project. Another thing to occupy his time. He leaned in secretively, "I'll help you get over him."

Granger raised her eyebrows, "What?"

"It took me one day to take your advice. And now I feel better. It's been two weeks since we've come back to school and you're still morose. You obviously need help."

"Oh, I obviously need help?"

"Ignore your pride for a moment. I'm sure plenty of nerdy Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws are after you, you just have to open your eyes. You're like a walking naughty librarian fantasy."

She snorted, "You're kidding."

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

"Is this why you're doing this? Because it'll be fun?"

"No. Well, yes. That and I can't wait to see Weasley's incredulous face when he realizes you're not waiting for him. He's parading his new relationship around, he's completely insensitive."

"Is breakfast ready?" Weasley had started coming down the stairs, a yawn breaking across his face, his hair disgustingly erratic.

"Speak of the devil." Draco smirked, "Think about it. Get back to me." He clapped a hand over his mouth and pointed behind Weasley, "It's the last acromantula!" Weasley yelped and sprinted over to where Draco and Granger were standing.

For once, Granger didn't offer any consolation concerning the spider, although Draco was sure she knew there was only three. In fact, he was pretty sure everyone else in the dorm knew that the prank was the imaginary fourth acromantula, not the other three. But Weasley's hairs were still standing on end, and he still forced Potter to check every room for him before he walked in.

"Where?" he screeched, looking furiously behind him.

Malfoy shrugged, "It scuttled across there." He swept his hand across the room in a concerned gesture, "But I think it ran off into a closet somewhere."

Granger bit her lip, "Oh no, Malfoy, that's really not good." She looked worried, "That's where they look for mates and have babies. In closets."

"I heard that acromantulas can breed with themselves, they usually just like to have a mate for company." He winked at her as Weasley shot a nervous glance to the broom closet.

Hermione nodded judiciously, "Yeah, I've heard that too. I hope we don't get an infestation or anything."

* * * * *

It was after dinner. Pansy was visiting Daphne, Weasley and Potter were probably coming back from Quidditch training and Granger was in the library. In other words, the common room was empty.

"Are you sure this will work?" questioned Blaise. "It seems a bit weak."

"But if it works, it'll be brilliant. And anyway, I've been researching this for the whole summer. I was planning to use it on Crabbe and Goyle, but they're too inept to do this justice."

Draco extracted a book from his cloak and shuffled it among the notes on the work desk. Hidden, but obvious enough. Tried and Tested Transfiguration Tips for the Terrible Student. "And anyway, Potter's weakest subject is transfiguration. He won't be able to resist this."

"How did you find all these spells anyway?"

"Well, over the summer, my father gave me the keys to the family library and told me to learn spells. I found a particular incantation that would reverse all the effects onto the caster. It's meant to be a defensive spell. Your opponent thinks you're about to cast a spell on them, but you're putting a shielding charm on yourself or something."

"Genius." nodded Blaise in admiration. "So what's this going to do to Potter?"

"I've stuck a few gems in there, I'll tell you that much, but the fun's in the anticipation, Blaise my man."

"You're an insufferable twat."

Draco smirked, "So I've been told… Anyway, I must head off. But Operation 5.6 tomorrow?"

"Yep. Where are you going?"

"Places."

"Fine…Cya."

Draco walked briskly, with purpose as he usually did. His mind switched off and he allowed his legs to lead him to his favourite place in the school: the Quidditch pitch.

He sat right on top of the Quidditch stands, his legs dangling over the edge, his eyes absorbing the playful shades of light and dark that danced over the Dark Forest. At times like these, so far above the ground, so far from another human being, he felt almost inconsequential. It was thrilling.

Draco felt a flurry of movement behind him and discreetly grasped for his wand. He glanced across and relaxed his grip. It was Pansy.

She slid in beside him. "How did I know you'd be here."

He shrugged a reply, continuing to view the landscape.

It seemed an eternity passed before either of them spoke.

It was Pansy that broke the truce of silence. "We're too alike."

"I know."

"It would've never worked." She was emotionless.

So was he. "It was a nice fantasy."

They talked as if it was a casual conversation about acquaintances. Aloof, indifferent, unconcerned.

"Yes. Yes it was." Pansy hesitated. She was reaching for something, "But you don't want me. Not really." Her façade slipped an inkling, "You're lonely. No – don't try and deny it. But I know what you want. I know what kind of girl you want."

"Oh really? Tell me about this girl."

"Someone who will comfort you, love you. You want someone different to you, yet intrinsically alike. You want to look in her eyes, and find something there, something no one else sees, a clandestine world for the two of you. Just like when Lucius looks at Narcissa." Pansy shook her head, "But that's just not me. Love is such a far reach."

"You may have everyone else believing that, but you don't trick me, Pansy." His eyes flitted at her stoic expression for a moment, "You care about me. Not in that way, but you care. You care about Daphne. You care about Blaise. You care about your mother, and your father. You care about your friends. I know you hate this place, you're scared of heights. Have been since you fell from my mulberry tree when we were seven. But yet you came here. You thought that you'd hurt me, so you came to try and make me feel better. Because you care about your friends."

An unfamiliar expression fluttered across Pansy's face. "I'll admit to that last part, but love is still stupid."

"It makes fools of us all."

"You're my best friend, Draco Malfoy. You have been since we were five. And I still want you to be. "

He wrapped his arms around her, "I know. So do I." And so they sat there, late into the night, lost in their own thoughts, captured in a platonic embrace.

* * * * *

Saturday morning had begun as most mornings now did: with Granger in the kitchen. Both had learnt to make food faster and more efficiently, but still met each morning at 6.

It was now 6.20 and they had finished preparing toast, eggs and bacon. It was another forty minutes before anyone was due downstairs. Actually, probably up to another two hours considering it was the weekend. Draco and Granger sat beside each other on the kitchentop.

"Yes." conceded Granger.

"What?"

"I was thinking about it last night. I do want to get over him. And then you this morning, you seem much happier, much better."

"Good, good. We'll plan something." He fidgeted with the folds of his shirt. "We talked last night." For some reason, he felt like revealing this to Granger. It seemed like she actually cared. And well, he wanted her to know.

"You and Pansy?"

"Yeah."

"About what?"

"How it would never have worked out. And she's right. And then she told me about the girl that I supposedly want."

"Oh, who is it?"

"It's not a person exactly. It's the type of girl I want. Apparently, I want her to be just like me, but inherently different." He didn't know why he told Granger this. He supposed that he just wanted a second opinion, he had never really thought about what kind of girl he wanted. But now he said it, he felt strangely vulnerable. He laughed it off, "Stupid, eh?"

She cocked her head at him, looking intently for a moment, "I don't think so. I can see you with someone the opposite of you." Her expression lightened, "You need someone to keep that giant ego in check. And someone cultured. And smart. You know, to balance you out."

"Very funny, Granger."

"No, but seriously. Opposites attract. But they don't necessarily stay together. I think everyone needs someone different but the same. Opposite to attract, similar to stay together. But you need to have the same values, hopes, dreams…" Granger blushed and stopped abruptly.

Draco supposed that she felt embarrassed at revealing too much. But he didn't mind. It was nice having someone open like a book. That was the great thing about Granger, he didn't have to act around her or pretend to be someone else. They both knew the worst of each other, so anything else was an improvement. He recoiled. He didn't even realize that he had internally acknowledged there was a great thing about Granger. She had things about her, not good things, not great things. But he didn't mind. Granger was becoming a friend. "And who do you want? What kind of same but different boy?"

Blaise trodded loudly down the stairs, "Morning." he grinned, before grabbing a slice of toast and foraging for the weekly money rations.

"Zabini, you know we don't need food until Sunday right?" stated Hermione.

"But today is Sunday." he winked.

"Is this another prank?" she grinned.

Blaise shook his head innocently, "Oh of course not."

"Do whatever you want, I just don't want to become collateral damage."

Draco grinned, "So are you neutral?"

"Yeah, neutral, but I'll be a spy for the evil side if need be." she joked.

"Hey, who says we're the evil side?"

Granger raised an eyebrow, "Who say's you're not?"

"Touché." admitted Draco.

"Anyway, I'm off. Have a lovely morning you two." Blaise waved goodbye, "Gotta beat the Sunday rush."

Draco turned back to Granger, "So what were we talking about?"

Granger slid off the benchtop, attempting the end the conversation, "I have no idea."

"You're a terrible actress."

"Hey, I resent that. And I honestly don't remember."

"I'll get it out of you soon enough."

"Whatever." she poked her tongue out.

"Fine, let's get to Operation Rebound."

Granger wrinkled her nose, "Operation Rebound?"

"Look, professionals, like me, like to use codenames. They sometimes confuse novices through, don't worry."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."

"You're just spiteful because you're in over your head. So since I'm a seasoned expert, I'll take that in stride." he grinned, "Anyway, we need to get you a boy that will threaten Weasley, but is within your reach…Anyone you could take a fancy to?"

She shrugged, "I haven't really thought about it."

"Ernie Macmillian?"

"He's so pompous!"

"Well, he's a prefect. Nice status."

"No. Next?"

"Fine, fine. Ravenclaw. Michael Corner?"

"No, he's so rude!"

"Someone from Gryffindor?"

"No. Ew."

"Terry Boot?"

"Even I find him a bore."

"Finch-Fletchley?"

"Pretty sure he's not a fan of Harry, Ron or me."

"Yeah I don't blame him… Anthony Goldstein?"

"…" Hermione pondered for a moment.

"Yes?"

"Maybe…" she let out slowly.

"Good enough. I don't want to sit here all day debating the sub par bachelors of Hogwarts."

"Oh everyone's up to par, Malfoy. It's just you that brings that average right down."

"See, we're already getting the old Granger back. Snarky and annoying. Better than mopey and lovestruck."

She shot him a deadpan glare.

"So anyway, do you have any classes with him?"

"Yeah, potions."

"Interesting…"

"So no advice?" interrogated Hermione.

"Just give me time to work my magic, neophyte. We'll get revenge on rude Weaselbee soon enough.

* * * * *

"Operation 5.6." nodded Blaise in pride, leaning back in his chair. "Our best ever."

"Five years, six revisions, countless first years." reminisced Draco, beaming with satisfaction.

Both leaned forward to write to pen a letter they had created countless times before:

Dear Sir,

You have recently come to the attention of the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Law Enforcement as a possible future Auror. We would like to ask you to perform certain tasks for us to test your suitability. However, these are just procedures, and we are in no doubt that you will excel.

Please make note to not inform anyone of the contents of this letter, as it is not only a rare occurrence, but a secret process. We rarely ask wizards that have not completed school, and you are certainly the youngest, but we are confident of your potential, even at this early stage. It is imperative that you learn secrecy. You must understand that if you divulge the details of the journey you will embark on, should you accept the offer, you will be blacklisted in the eyes of the Ministry, which makes a job, in ten, twenty, fifty years, near impossible.

Please reply with your acceptance or decline of our offer, to Lot 121 at the Diagon Alley Owlery to be rerouted to us.

Regards,

The Committee of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Auror Division

The slid the letter gently into an envelope reading, "HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL: RONALD WEASLEY."


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