Chapter 8- Lemon Drops

Detention with Snape had, predictably, been horrifying. Scrubbing out the insides of first years cauldrons proved to be a disgusting experience, and Draco had to suppress the urge to go to Madam Pomfrey's to get checked over to make sure he hadn't received any type of cauldron-gunk transferred illness.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Draco figured he should at least try and tune into Pansy's annoying chatter for fear of the consequences of not. But Merlin, it was so early...

"- and I spent hours looking for the Invisible Book of Invisibility, but I couldn't find it! Eventually Madam Pince took pity on me and sent me back to the Common room, but-"

"Hold on, say that sentence again?" Draco stared at his friend incredulously. Beside him at the Slytherin table, Blaise spit out his breakfast.

Pansy enthusiastically began her rant again. "I couldn't find the Invisible Book-"

"That's what I thought you said," the blond cut her off, shaking his head. And to think he often defended Pansy when she was called ditzy.

The girl didn't seem to notice anything strange about her end of the detention they had last night, so Draco decided it best not to burst her bubble.

He would have preferred to resume eating his breakfast in peace, but Pansy of course had to break it with her sudden, "You forgot to reserve the pitch for the Slytherin team."

"Yeah, yeah, so what?" he said in irritation.

Pansy lowered her voice an octave or two and went slightly crossed eyed and said, "You said, 'I won't forget, Pansy'."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "That was a terrible imitation of me. You should work on that."

Pansy pointed her fork at him in gratitude. "Noted."

Draco suddenly came to. "On second thought, don't. I think I find it offensive when you imitate me like that."

"Its what you look like," Pansy shrugged nonchalantly, and Draco glared.

"I do not protrude my bottom lip as such. You make it look like I'm constantly pouting."

"Its what you look like." She repeated stubbornly.

"You're a cow."

Pansy smiled broadly, blinding him with her white teeth. "I'm your cow."

"True," Draco couldn't help but grin at Pansy's infectious smile.

"But you really should get going on that. You have to reserve the pitch before the Gryffindors do. Did you know that they already have their team put together? They've started conditioning for the first game," she said matter-of-factly, sliding her eggs around her plate casually.

"Since when did you become an expert on the Gryffindor's status?" Draco eyed his friend, who blushed slightly under his gaze. Hmm, interesting.

Pansy quickly regained her composure and smirked as she said, "Since you stopped and started becoming more interested with one particular Gryffindor,"

Immediately Draco dropped his toast and said, "I am not interested in Granger!"

Dread filled his veins when he realized his mistake.

Pansy's smirk widened and she hooted with laughter. "I never mentioned Granger. I just said a Gryffindor. My my, Draco, jumping to conclusions are we?"

Draco sniffed. "It was strongly implied."

If Pansy were going to say more on the topic- and undoubtedly she would have, the sly dog- she didn't get a chance to. Draco stood up swiftly, wanting to put as much distance between him, this situation and the inevitable upcoming discussion about Granger. "Going to Charms," he muttered, and Pansy stood as well.

"Well I'm coming with you," she said, bumping his shoulder.

"No, you are not," Draco corrected her as he sped up his pace. Pansy- the cow- started taking longer strides to match his.

"Fine, then I'm following you," the dark haired girl

"You are not going to follow me

"Ha, you're being followed," Pansy sang as she skipped along side him. The blond resisted the urge to strangle her, instead deciding to ignore her. Operation Ignore Parkinson was going swimmingly too until she piped up again.

"Please don't get mad at me-" she began, and Draco immediately steeled himself. If she was about to confess to something she did…Draco didn't think he could handle this so early in the morning. Pansy had a long history of meddling in Draco's life, his love life- or lack thereof- especially. Her habit of intervening herself into his business usually ended badly. There was one time back in fifth year when Pansy had been convinced that Draco was in love with Potter, and all the two needed to do was shag to fix all the tension between them. 'So much sexual tension,' she had cooed before practically gift-wrapping Draco for Potter. She had attempted to lock the two in a broom closet for an hour, but before five minutes had passed, a passing by student had heard the two boys screaming at each other, and their cover was effectively blown. Of course, the passerby had incorrectly assumed that Harry and Draco were involved in a torrid love affair, and news spread courtesy of the emergency edition of the Hogwarts Rattler before dinner that evening. That had been a fire to put out.

Draco shuddered, not eager to go through a similar experience again. Fortunately, Pansy shattered the assumption that she was getting involved in his love life by saying, "I really think you need to go to McGonagall. If you don't, I will."

So maybe it wasn't so fortunate. Draco might have preferred her love life intervention.

Draco fixed her with an icy glare. "How many times do I have to tell you-"

"I know, stay out of your business, yada yada yada," Pansy snapped at him. "But maybe you should take into account that if you don't go to McGonagall, all of those Gryffindors will be up in your business as well. And knowing what a chatter-box Brown is, the whole school will be informed of your…situation," she sneered at him, and Draco flinched at her tone.

Just then, Blaise chose to jog up beside them. Immediately, he noted the tension in the air, and he swallowed thickly. "What's going on?" he asked cautiously, eyes flickering between Pansy, who was glaring at Draco, and Draco, who was staring at Pansy in shock.

"You wouldn't do that," Draco exclaimed in disbelief, and Blaise shifted his weight in confusion.

"What-" he began, but was cut off by Pansy.

Eyes narrowed, she practically growled, "I would, and I will. You don't do this by tonight, then I'll be going to McGonagall tomorrow morning. And I won't just be concerning her with the questions. You can rest assured that I'll be forced to back up my argument with her, and things that you don't want to be known to the public will be."

The Malfoy heir shook his head vigorously. "You're lying. You promised you would never tell anybody-"

"I'm trying to help you, why can't you see that?" Pansy interjected, taking a step closer to the blond.

"How is betraying my trust helping me?" he demanded. "I don't think you understand the consequences of going to McGonagall about those stupid personal questions. If I do, she'll want to know why I don't want to talk about certain things- she'll ask questions!"

"And I don't think you understand the consequences of not going to her! If you don't, you risk having to spill out your secrets to everyone. Why not give it a shot? There's a chance that she'll understand-"

"-And a very strong chance that she won't," Draco snarled.

"But you never know unless you try! If she does ask you why, and you tell her, maybe she can help you-"

"I don't need anybody's help!"

Their voices were slowly escalating in volume and the corridor gradually filling with students. The three Slytherins didn't notice the increasing amount of attention that was being directed towards them.

Pansy gave Draco a little shove in her anger. He took a step backward, regarding her cooly as she yelled, "Yes you do! It's getting worse, Draco, don't even bother to deny it. It is really starting to take a toll on you, and both me and Blaise are agree that-"

"You've talked behind my back about this?" Draco whipped around to face Blaise, whose eyes widened and he put his hands up in a 'calm-down' gesture.

"Don't turn on me, now!" he begged his friend, but Draco just glared at him.

"But you've already turned on me, apparently. The only reason either of you know about any of this is because I trusted you enough to not do anything with that information. I swear to Merlin that if you prove me wrong about placing my confidence in you, we are never speaking again. Is that clear?" Draco snarled, shaking off the hand that Blaise had worriedly placed on his arm. Pansy glared at him stonily, neither accepting nor rejecting the terms. With one last sneer, Draco turned and stormed off, pushing through the mass of students that had gathered to watch the exchange.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" Pansy scowled at all of them, her eyes meeting the worried brown ones of Hermione Granger. The girl gave a start and grabbed Saint Potter's hand, pulling him away. The rest of the crowd followed suit, casting glances back at the remaining two-thirds of the silver trio.

When the majority had cleared out, Pansy heaved a sigh. "I don't think that was only about going to McGonagall anymore," she murmured as they watched Draco shove students out of the way in his tirade down the corridor.

"What did you do?" Blaise asked incredulously as he watched his friend's retreating back. "You realize now that you've only made this whole thing worse."

"I'm just trying to look out for him. You know as well as I do that some of those questions for this stupid class are going to force him to reveal some things about his family that he just can't," she stressed, eyes wide and pleading for Blaise to understand.

"Maybe it would be a good thing if someone besides us finally knew about it," the other Slytherin said thoughtfully as he continued walking with Pansy down the stone covered hallway.

The dark haired girl wrapped her arms around herself as if protecting herself against a chill. "He's not ready for that. He can barely stand having us know, can you imagine what would happen if Potter knew?"

Blaise winced. "You're right. But you went about it the wrong way. Draco doesn't like being forced to do anything. You've cornered him."

It was Pansy's turn to wince. "I had to. I only hope that he goes to McGonagall so that I don't have to. I'm not too keen on breaking his trust."

"None of us are, Pansy. But sometimes we're left with no choice."


"The Amokus charm induces frenzy and uncontrollable behavior in its victim. It was a leading component of the Reign of Terror during the French Revolution back in 1793…" Flitwick preached from his perch on the stack of books in the front of the class. Hermione idly twirled a curl around her finger, then switched to chewing on the end of her quill. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't take her mind off of the argument she had just witnessed among the three Slytherins. Her eyes flitted over to the empty seat next to Zabini and Parkinson. Both were staring solemnly up at the professor, pointedly ignoring the fact that Malfoy had failed to show up during History of Magic and Charms. His absence was noted by the majority who had witnessed the fight unfold in the middle of the corridor. It had been hard to miss; loud, angry, explosive, and worrisome.

What had it been about, anyway? She had shown up in the middle of it, and had difficulty catching on. There was one thing that was clear, though; Malfoy was hiding something, something that only Parkinson and Zabini knew, and they were urging him to go get help about it. But what kind of secret required help?

Hermione had been aggressively chewing on her quill as she followed her train of thoughts, and spat out a few feather fluffs in disgust. Shaking her head, she put down the remnants of the quill, nearly jumping out of her seat when Harry nudged her in the side and nodded over to the door. Malfoy had slipped in quietly and taken a seat at the back of the class, going unnoticed by Flitwick and many others. But Hermione was very aware of his presence- the tightness in his jaw, the slightly tired look in his eyes and the forward slump of his shoulders. So fighting with his two friends hadn't left him unscathed, Hermione discovered. Again, her eyes shifted other to the two Slytherins at the front of the room. Neither had apparently realized their blond counterpart's entrance.

"We will practice on some test objects. Now, repeat after me, Amokus!" Flitwick waved his wand in a zig-zag pattern over a toad sitting in a container. The rest of the class repeated the charm dutifully, but one student sprung up in a frenzy.

"TREVOR!"

Neville lunged for the container accommodating his precious toad. In his trek to reach his pet, he knocked Seamus, who was attempting the charm on his notebook. The zig-zag wand pattern was violently disrupted, and before anybody knew what was happening, Seamus had already exclaimed, "Amokus!" and his eyebrows promptly burst into flame.

"Aw man, not again!" Seamus cried out as he patted out his now singed and almost disintegrated brows. Neville, who had reached Trevor, turned back and saw the wreckage he had caused. He passed out and landed with a thud on the floor.

Silenced reigned for about three seconds before all the Slytherins burst out laughing and the Gryffindors covered their faces in shame.

The poor charms professor was unsure of what to do. "Ah, oh dear. Er, Mr. Malfoy, would you escort Mr. Finnigan and Longbottom to the Hospital Wing? I worry that the charm may have had a bit of a dizzying effect on Finnigan and his eyebrows. Tsk, how unfortunate, then there's the Longbottom boy," Flitwick muttered. Pansy and Blaise spun around in their seats at the mention of Malfoy, and both of their eyes widened when they spotted him casually lounging in the back of the room. They exchanged a furtive look.

Malfoy merely nodded- albeit a bit unhappily- refusing to make eye contact with Blaise or Pansy despite their best efforts. Muttering at Seamus to take one of Neville's legs, the two boys began dragging Neville out of the room. Flitwick clapped his hands together. "Let us commence! Amokus!"

Draco and Seamus continued to lug Neville down the corridor, being less than careful about hitting the boy's head when turning corners or stairs. When the two approached the moving staircases, they let Neville slide down like a toboggan while they followed behind him at a slower pace. However, the stairs chose that time to move, so while Neville's body was stranded on one landing, his two caretakers were in the process of being carried to another. They exchanged glances before shrugging. "He was heavy anyways," Draco replied.

The stairs shuddered and jerked somewhat violently, and Malfoy and Seamus clutched onto the railing before the movement eased out.

"Sooooo-" Seamus began casually, leaning against the railing as they waited to be brought to a new landing.

Draco cut him off sharply. "Do not try to make conversation with me. We are two unfortunate people stuck in an unfortunate situation. I'd rather not expand upon it."

Oddly enough, instead of cowering in fear or running off crying (two ideal reactions) Seamus laughed. "You know, I think people are wrong about you. You do have a sense of humor," he chortled before almost doubling over. Draco stared at the Gryffindor in awe and befuddlement.

After some time passed, the Irish boy straightened up, wiping his eyes of stray tears. Draco shook his head to himself; Gryffindorks.

The stairs came to a stop and the two hopped off and made their way to the Hospital Wing.

"Soooo-" Seamus began once more, and before Draco could cut him off, he asked, "What do you think of the Bubbly Jack-Rabbits?"

That made him pause.

"What?"

Seamus' face fell. "Did you forget the name of our group already?" he looked sincerely wounded, and Draco felt as though he had kicked a puppy.

"Oh. Eh. How could I forget," he said bitterly, pushing open the big wooden doors to the infirmary. Luckily he was saved from further commenting on how he felt about his group by the medi-witch.

Madam Pomfrey's eyebrows shot up at Seamus' lack of them. "What happened here?" she regarded the two boys before resting her gaze on Seamus' face.

"Amokus charm gone wrong," Draco said shortly.

"Is he under the influence of the charm? He appears calm, but that could be because you said it was performed wrong. He could be experiencing inner turmoil. I have a potion that can put him into a state of unconscious," she rambled to herself as she shook Seamus' shoulders and examined him.

"Hair regrowth paste would probably be preferable, but if you want to give him some of that stuff to knock him out, go for it." Draco said encouragingly, and Pomfrey stared daggers at him.

"And what is wrong with you?" she asked, suspiciously giving him a once over. Draco squirmed a bit under her heavy gaze.

"I was his escort."

She cocked an eyebrow. "He needed an escort for singed eyebrows?" The two looked over to where Seamus was seated on a hospital bed, catching the ashes falling like snowflakes from his brow with his tongue.

Draco flicked lint off his robes. "I rest my case."

Scowling, Madam Pomfrey began bustling about for hair regrowth potions and pastes. She threw a glance over her shoulder at Draco. "You may return to class now."

At the dismissal, Draco left the hospital wing, but with no intention of returning to class. Instead, he decided to go down to the lake. He was still very annoyed and- though he hated to admit it- very worried about what Pansy and Blaise might do. Going to McGonagall just didn't seem like an option, but they were leaving him with no choice. Sighing, the young blond made his way down to the water, kicking stones and wondering just how he was supposed to approach McGonagall on the way down.


"Ron, I'm not going to do your Divination homework for you, there's a reason I dropped the class. Harry, stop staring at Cho, you're going to freak her out." Hermione ordered from her spot on the grass. Harry wrenched his gaze away from the Ravenclaw beauty sitting across the courtyard with some difficulty, and Ron muttered his discontent.

"But I don't want to study the meaning of twigs! This xylophone Divination stuff is crazy!" Ron tugged at his fiery red hair in evident distress while Hermione sunned herself in the afternoon light.

"Hmm? Oh, Ronald, it's Xylomancy, not xylophone. And I told you the class wasn't worth your time. She's a fraud, I tell you," Hermione sang happily, and the Weasley dropped his head into the book and groaned.

Harry shifted his spectacles on his nose and grinned. "It's better than Arithmancy."

"Arithmancy is logic, it is made to make sense. Divination is purely up in the air…sometimes literally." Hermione argued as she squinted through the sunlight. It was so nice to be outside in the fresh air, especially with both Ron and Harry. She felt as though she were losing Ron because of all this bonding class stuff.

"Exactly. So we can make stuff up and not actually connect with our Third Inner Eyeball or whatever it is," Harry explained easily, and Hermione face palmed.

Ron threw his twigs on the ground in frustration. "I can't make sense of it."

"Probably because there is no sense to it," Hermione smiled at him, earning a glare and a flick to her nose. "Hey!" she batted his hand away, successfully knocking more of his twigs out of order. "You're moving on to Dream Interpretation soon anyways, aren't you?"

"Yeah, we have to design dream catchers to hang over our beds while we sleep, and they basically record our dreams so we can analyze them in class."

"Sounds violating,"

"Indeed."

Sighing, Ron pulled out a piece of parchment and tossed the Xylomancy Uncoded text book to Harry. "Here, look in here and see if this twig formation matches anything. I'm just going to make some crazy prediction that will never come true," Ron began fiercely writing, his ink bleeding through the paper with the excessive amount of force he was using. Curious, Hermione leaned over him.

"What are you saying?"

Ron smirked at her, which was slightly alarming. "I said that my twigs predicted you and Malfoy would start dating."

Hermione's eyes bugged out of her head. But before she could talk some sense into Ron about passing that in as an assignment, Harry exclaimed,

"Hey, your twigs match something!"

"Really, what?" Ron sat forward enthusiastically, pushing Hermione over so that she got a mouthful of grass.

"According to the book, the formation means…Irony."

Ron and Harry scratched their heads in confusion while Hermione spat out grass. "Huh. Divination is crap. Whose hungry? I'm hungry. Let's get some lunch."


Five teenagers sat waiting for their sixth group member to join them.

"He left me in the hospital wing to go back to class," Seamus was saying, stroking his newly grown back eyebrows affectionately. Hermione shook her head.

"He never came back," she informed him, wondering where on Earth the Malfoy heir could have gotten too. She would be lying if she said she wasn't a little worried about him. Getting into a big fight with his two best friends then disappearing for the rest of the day? It didn't look good.

"Its only been ten minutes, Malfoy has to be on his way," Lavender frowned before pulling a curling iron out of her bag (huh..?) and proceeding to utilize it. The rest of her group mates heaved a groan and settled in around the fire to wait.


Minerva McGonagall was perched at her desk, disdainfully staring down her nose at a lemon drop wrapper that had been left on said desk, courtesy of the headmaster. Taking a piece of parchment, she swept the offending wrapper into the trash bin with a shudder. She was irritable; this match-making plan that Albus had brewing…and the fact that it was actually going to work was-

A hesitant knock on her door made the old witch look up. "Come in," she called, delicately putting the piece of parchment to rest on the desk before her. The door opened, and McGonagall's eyebrows shot up as the young Malfoy heir stepped into her office. "Mr. Malfoy," she greeted cordially. She was never one to take a great liking to the boy. His harassment of her Gryffindor's and his family history were enough for her to want to look down her nose at him, much like the lemon drop wrapper. The Slytherin in question took another step into the room.

"Professor," Draco replied politely. McGonagall gestured for him to stand before her, and he obliged.

"To what do I owe the reason for your presence today?" the heavy oak door slammed shut with a bang behind him, causing Draco to jump slightly. It took him a moment to remember that he was supposed to answer.

"This…project," Draco said, distain obvious in his voice. McGonagall frowned at his tone, yet waved him to continue. "I don't think that certain questions are necessary to…bond with my group mates."

McGonagall adjusted her glasses on her nose primly. "Professor Dumbledore and I created these questions, and we both firmly believe that they are all relevant to create better relationships within the groups." And to spark romance in impossible places, her mind muttered.

She allowed the words to sink into the stubborn boy's mind. Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose and looked back down at the wrapper in the trash bin beside her desk. If Malfoy was only coming to complain about these questions-

"I just…I don't feel comfortable answering some of them."

His voice made her freeze. Slowly, McGonagall turned her head up to study him. She studied him; eyes downcast, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt nervously, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips, shoulders slightly forward. And his voice. It was heavy and held a tone that could have passed as desperation.

McGonagall regarded him for a moment. "These questions are designed so that as the class progresses, you will become comfortable answering them. It is all part of the process, Mr. Malfoy."

"I understand that, but-"

"What are the questions that make you 'uncomfortable'?" Doubt shaded her tone.

His tongue flicked out over his lips once again. "The personal ones."

"Such as?" the Professor prodded further. Draco didn't seem to want to answer. The heart of his cheeks blossomed with color.

Reluctantly, he murmured, "I…don't like talking about my home life. It's private and I'd rather not share it."

"Then how do you expect to bond with your group members?"

"We can bond in other ways," Draco tried again, face flushing further.

McGonagall frowned. "I'm afraid I can't change the course of the class merely because you claim you don't feel 'comfortable.'" She shifted some papers on her desk and stood. "Now if thats all you're here for, I will kindly escort you out-"

"Please," he interrupted her. "I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't this important,"

Something about the way he said it caused the professor's face to soften ever so slightly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but there isn't anything I can do. The cards are set, and the magic in them will make you answer them. Its beyond my control, now."

With that, she dismissed him, and as she watched the blond head dip downwards as he walked away, she hoped that she had made the right decision in sending him away so quickly.


The portrait swung open quietly and the sound of the Rabnotts bickering filled the air until it was shut again. Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, knowing that their final group member had arrived. Everyone sat up, Lavender put aside the curling iron, and they waited for the Ice Prince to make his appearance.

When his brooding form was made visible in the dull light of the fireplace, everyone stiffened. The air around him seemed thick and his movements apprehensive and agitated.

"Where were you today? You never came back to class," Hermione stated cautiously, brow creased as Malfoy sat down on an armchair silently.

"None of your business," he sneered at her, and Lavender heaved a sigh.

"It was just a question, Malfoy, no need to get defensive about it," she said, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. Malfoy remained silent and simply glared at her. She swallowed laboriously and unconsciously scooted a little closer to Seamus, who in turn placed a protective arm around her, glowering at Malfoy menacingly.

"Why don't we get started," Luna suggested, breaking through the tense haze that had settled around the group. Hermione smiled at the girl and nodded for her to do the honors.

The day had passed by quickly, but not uneventfully. Most of the seventh years had found themselves in their group common rooms early. The same had gone for The Bubbly Jack-Rabbits. And now, they were gathered around the fireplace as Luna voiced the question on the card.

"What is one thing people don't know about you?" she said softly, placing the card down delicately on the table.

Harry rubbed his hands together as if he were trying to warm them up or he was concocting an evil plan. It was probably the latter. "Alright, I say we establish some boundaries on this one," he proposed. Seamus' head bobbed in agreement.

"Yeah, like if one of you had an STD or-"

"I think we will all tell what we are comfortable telling," Hermione cut in, effectively cutting Seamus off.

"How personal are we going with this one?" Lavender leaned back and brought her knees to her chest.

"I think we should venture past our comfort zones, in order to properly open up to each other as a group and further enhance our bond," said Hermione wisely.

"So we're going to be digging deep into the dark, dreary and unknown depths of our most precious secrets?" Seamus too began rubbing his hands together, joining Harry in his low cackle.

"As inviting as that sounds…" Draco muttered eyeing the two wizards warily as Hermione shook her head profusely.

"No spilling deep dark secrets, unless you really feel like you have to," she said firmly. The two Gryffindor boys deflated. "Who wants to go first?" As expected, no one volunteered.

Gryffindor bravery finally shining through, Harry stepped up to the plate. Taking a deep breath, he said "I don't like being the Chosen One. There is so much pressure placed on me all the time, expectations I have to fill…and sometimes I just can't fill them. I didn't ask for this to be laid down on me. Though I want to and I will do my best to help everyone, sometimes I wish I could just be me."

"How the hell do we follow that?" Luna grumbled from the sidelines.

Hermione reached out to grab Harry's hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. He smiled gratefully at her, his glasses suspiciously misting.

"You don't need to fill any expectations here with us, Harry," she said quietly, and everyone save Malfoy nodded in agreement.

Seamus decided to cough loudly to end the moment. "If it's alright, I'll be going next," he looked around and saw no objection, so he continued.

"I'm not Irish."

A collective gasp of "WHAT?!" chorused in the common room. Lavender began fanning herself with Hogwarts: A History and Harry's jaw made a loud popping noise as it hit the carpeted floor.

"Ha! I'm just messing with you," Seamus exclaimed happily, eyes dancing mischievously in the fire light. A sigh of relief sounded. "Alright, here goes my confession. The reason I didn't make it onto the Qudditch team last year was because the sun was in my eyes the entire time."

Harry began suffering from a coughing fit.

"Really now?" Lavender's eyebrows shot up. Hermione shook her head at Seamus' too-big ego. If he wanted to believe that, he could. Hermione wouldn't be the one to burst his bubble and tell him that he didn't make it onto the team because he couldn't make it onto the team he was so bad at the sport.

"So why didn't you try out again this year? Maybe you could have worn sunglasses this time around, yeah?" Draco snickered, and Seamus shrugged.

"Well you see, I wear contacts, so sunglasses don't work for me-"

"You don't wear contacts, Sea," Lavender said gently.

"Well you see, sunglasses make me go cross-eyed-"

"Is that possible?" Luna questioned.

"Well you see-"

"We see what you don't see," Draco said. "Give up."

Seamus whimpered slightly and sunk back into the large velvety cushions of the couch, pouting when no one made any move to argue Malfoy.

"I just pretend to see all sorts of magical creatures. I don't really believe that they're there." Luna broke the silence, though it was followed with more shocked silence.

"You're kidding," Harry exclaimed, mouth again gaping open. Luna smiled brightly at him, her eyes shining pale blue like the walls surrounding them.

"I knew this question would be the death of us," Lavender began banging her head against Hogwarts: A History, and Hermione shrieked.

"Careful! That's my sixth edition!"

"Just kidding," Luna snickered. Now that was an alarming sight to see on the normally angelic girl's face.

"This is too much for one evening," Harry said, eyes glassy and staring at the wall.

The Ravenclaw smirked, strongly resembling Draco, before saying, "One thing people don't know about me is that I actually like lemon drops."

Harry crinkled his nose. "Ew, those candies that only Dumbledore likes but still offers to everyone?" Luna nodded happily. Shaking his head in disgust, Harry shuddered and said,

"Okay, Lavender, you next,"

"Lemme think," Lavender tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"Don't hurt yourself," Hermione snorted.

Sending a pointed scowl towards the brunette, Lavender muttered, "I guess sometimes I feel like people expect too little of me. Like they know they can't expect too much because I won't be able to satisfy them. So they settle for less."

Hermione had the decency to look ashamed, her face blushing brightly. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, head bowed. Lavender offered her a half smile.

"It's not your fault, and I wasn't calling you out on it. It's just something I've noticed happens a lot. I'm just that ditzy blonde that doesn't know how to do anything. But it doesn't hurt me, it just makes me want to be stronger."

Draco resisted the urge to throw up. All of this mushy feely Gryffindork emotional crisis crap was disgusting. Again, encouragement from all of the group members was passed around.

"Okay, I'll go next, I guess," Hermione said nervously.

Wracking her brain for something to say, Hermione's eyes fell on each of her group members. She wasn't sure how personal she wanted to be with this confession. Harry might get concerned, Lavender might scoff, and Malfoy might laugh at her. But since when did she let what other people think control her decisions? It was with that thought that Hermione found her answer to the question.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione said "I always try so hard so that people don't think of me as that ugly muggleborn. I wanted to prove that I could do anything I wanted if I put my mind to it."

"You shouldn't have to prove yourself, Hermione. Hogwarts' is always ready to accept you with open arms," Harry said kindly, ignoring the scoff from the Slytherin in the room.

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione smiled slightly. "Its not Hogwarts that I worry about accepting me, it's the people inside it," an unsubtle glare was sent in Draco's direction from the rest of the people in the room.

"You're acting as if this 'acceptance' crap you're talking about is one sided," Draco said icily. His face began to automatically shut down so that no emotions could be revealed on the hard exterior.

Harry immediately bristled, hands beginning to tighten into fists at his sides defensively. "It looks that way, doesn't it?"

"Looks can be deceiving," Draco spat.

"I'm glad you've finally realized. Maybe then you'd understand that not everyone is less than you."

"Maybe you should get off your bloody high horse and take some of you're own advice," the Slytherin leaned forward as if his low voice couldn't be heard through the dead silent room. "We're not so different, Potter. Take a look around and maybe you would finally realize what is so plain to see."

"Now wait just a minute-" Hermione began but Draco cut her off with a growl.

"You're all hypocrites, all of you! At least I realize what I do. But you, you just don't get it. You do the exact same thing as I do, but since you're the majority, it makes it alright." The blond shook his head in disgust. "Now that is what is worrying about Hogwarts."

Draco stood up abruptly, body tense and eyes piercing. Hermione's heart clenched when his silver eyes connected with her own. Inside was a turmoil of emotions, the most prominent, utter loathing. His face was stone. "I have feelings too."

Without another word, he stormed upstairs

After a few moments, the ice that had frozen them suddenly cracked. "Wait! You can't just not answer the question!" Lavender shouted after him. Her words were no use, the finality sounding in the bang of his bedroom door.

"I think he just did." Hermione said solemnly.


"You don't think we should take what he said seriously, do you?"

"Of course not, he's just over exaggerating. He's a liar and a Slytherin, he can't be trusted," Harry said immediately, pacing so much that the creaking floorboards began to grate on Hermione's nerves. The remaining five group members once again found themselves huddled in front of the fire place, pondering what their most emotionally unstable Bubbly Jack-Rabbit had said. Well, 'said' was too civil; 'yelled' was more like it. Hermione's mind muttered. She inhaled slowly before exhaling again, taking solace in the familiar smell of parchment from Hogwarts: A History, it now being safe from Lavender and tucked in her arms protectively. She was grasping it as if it were a life line as she mulled over Malfoy's words.

"Well…you did just accentuate his point right then," said Lavender slowly. Everyone realized that she was right, and Harry blinked a few times before taking off his glasses to clean them with his shirt.

"Malfoy has got some serious mood swings," Seamus whistled lowly, leaning against the wall- he'd been inspired by Malfoy always lounging there.

Hermione scoffed "You can say that again."

"Malfoy has got some-"

Hermione kicked Seamus in the shins. He whimpered in pain and went down from his casual perch against the wall.

The fire place crackled fiercely, spitting out orange and yellow sparks as once again everyone reverted to muteness. Hermione turned her gaze to the staircase that lead up to the bedrooms and the brooding Malfoy. What were they going to do with him? Admittedly, some of what he had said had struck a chord. Did they really all treat Slytherins badly? Malfoy said that they were all alike, which was a lie- Slytherins and Gryffindors couldn't be more different. Right?

"You know, I think he reverts to being mean when he gets nervous." Seamus said quietly.

"Oh, so he was nervous all the time for the past six or so years, which explains why he was an absolute prick to us all. I get it, it all makes sense now," said Harry sarcastically.

"What makes you say that, Seamus?" Hermione asked, startled and shifting in her seat to get a better view of her fellow Gryffindor. Seamus licked his lips slightly, not fully prepared to back up his idea.

"It's just that the moment things start to look rocky, it almost looks like he gets intimidated and immediately puts up this defense mechanism. It explains why he never opens up to anybody, at least. I mean, he in the lone Slytherin stuck with all of us. Don't say that you wouldn't be nervous if the situation were reversed," the boy muttered, and Harry shook his head in befuddlement. There was no way that Malfoy was going to be made a victim in all of this.

"I can attest to that," Luna told no one in particular, softly.

Harry pulled at his hair in exasperation. "Can't you see that this is exactly what Malfoy wants us to see?" he exclaimed. "He wants us to second guess ourselves and our actions. It is probably some grand scheme of breaking us all up and putting us in low spirits, just because he is in a bad mood."

"You know how to fix someone's bad mood?" Lavender asked excitedly and rather suddenly. Surprised, the rest of the group watched her wearily. "You hug them!" she exclaimed, causing everyone to stare at her.

Seamus gaped at her. "You want us to hug Malfoy?" He took Hermione's book and began to fan himself with Hogwarts: A History, despite her screeches.

"Nooooo thank you!" Harry saluted.

"Sounds agreeable."

Four pairs of eyes whipped towards Hermione.

"I meant fixing someones mood by hugging them, not hugging Malfoy in particular," Hermione blushed and looked down.

"Sure Hermione, whatever you say," Luna coughed.

"Oh, this is monumental! I think we should fix everybodys' moods!"

"The only people in a bad mood frequently are the Slytherins," Harry pointed out.

The ditzy blonde clapped her hands together like a child. "Oh Harry, I'm so glad you said that. I propose….Hug a Slytherin Day!"

Silence…until….

"I second that!"

"WHAT?!"

"Seamus, are you mad?"

The boy whose sanity was in question shook his head. "Imagine how much that would get on their nerves! Hugging them all day, they'd get so aggravated!"

"Aggravated is a big word for you, Sea, are you feeling alright?" Hermione asked in a concerned tone from the sidelines.

Harry seemed to ponder this for a moment, scratching the nonexistent facial hair on his chin. "That could actually be kinda fun," he began, and Seamus did a fist pump.

"I have the Chosen One's back up! It's a go, I repeat, Hug a Slytherin Day is a go! All forces, onward!" Seamus made to march for the door but Lavender quickly stood up to intercept him.

"How about tomorrow?" she said forcefully with her hands clutching his arms to hold back the enthusiastic boy.

"But-" his lip quivered, but he could see it was a losing battle. Sadly, he ducked his head and allowed Lavender to talk.

"Tomorrow. There is no way you are going down to the dungeons right now and start passing the love. You'd get murdered by a happy hoard of snakes. Besides, you want the whole school to participate as well, right? I say we put out a big newsletter in the Hogwarts Rattler for tomorrow morning. They're always taking late requests, the editor is up in their office past midnight usually. In the morning, at breakfast, the plan will commence."

The Bubbly Jack-Rabbits - save Hermione- nodded enthusiastically in agreement. She had a bad feeling about this, and for some reason- gee who knows why- she knew that the Slytherins would not be happy with this abruptly announced day.

As everyone bade each other goodnight and Lavender and Seamus left to write out the announcement, Hermione passed by Malfoy's shut door and wondered if he had spoken to Zabini or Parkinson yet. She shook her head, why'd she care? It didn't matter to her whether or not Malfoy and his cronies were on speaking terms.

Upon reaching her bedroom, Hermione shrugged out of her robes and fell onto her bed. It had been a long day, she sighed to herself. At least the questions had been fairly easy so far, she thought gratefully. Sure, Malfoy's outburst tonight wasn't a preferable reaction, but everyone besides him had been surprisingly understanding of everyone else. She had been worried, Hermione confessed to herself, about how answering the questions would go, considering how the cards made you tell the truth. But it was progressing well, much better than expected, actually. Hermione chuckled a bit as she recalled Luna eerily saying that she didn't believe in all of those mysterious invisible creatures. And Seamus, who had thrown in a plot twist by saying that he wasn't Irish. She certainly hadn't seen that coming, she yawned and laughed a little to herself.

Just as she was falling asleep, Hermione woke with a start. Did anyone else notice that the cards let Luna and Seamus lie?