Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Authors note: I think I want this to be H/D slash eventually, so I'll be off to change the stats soon. Warnings for this chapter involve a sulky Draco, implied nudity, implied some kind of sexual relationship.
"So?" Draco deadpanned. He was exhausted, he had been loose in the forest with Blaise during his transformations, and it had been hard to let himself turn back into a human afterwards. And Pansy was nattering on about how Potter landed himself detention because last week Snape had caught him skulking around the halls at night. And Draco couldn't begin to care.
Last weekend, he had gone clubbing with some of the others, and not only had he gotten drunk at the three broomsticks, and not only had both he and Blaise showed off their unlicensed shape shifting, but when they had shifted back, neither of them was focused enough to stay clothed. They'd been able to get their stuff back the next day, but they had still walked home starkers, but not before making fools of themselves. He was hung over (well not really anymore, but emotionally hung over), tired from it only being a few days after transformations, and if he had one more slytherin whistle, leer, or ask him anything involving the terms doggie style he was worried he might get tossed out of Hogwarts for hexing that unfortunate souls important bits off.
And of course, him and Blaise stumbling into the common room, naked, drunk, and long before any of the others showed up did nothing to stamp out the rumor Pansy had gleefully started over the summer about he and Blaise's supposed tryst.
Two days later, and now some of the Ravenclaws (Roger Davies had got the story out of Baddock, traitor that he was) had joined in the fun, and Lisa Turpin, Mandy Brocklehurst, and Stephen Cornfoot had all greeted him this morning with leers and Cornfoot had even cat called to Blaise.
"Draco," Snapped Pansy, ripping him from his sullen reverie, "He was apparently trying to find Dumbledore to tell him we were sneaking off grounds to go report to You-Know-Who."
Draco snorted. "What the whole lot of us? Doesn't give us much credit for stealth does he? What did Snape do?"
"He came down, and the smaller Baddock dutifully informed him that it was unethical for teachers to go rousing students out of their beds, as it might be inappropriate, but that he was certain we were all in bed."
Draco smiled weakly over at Malcom Baddock who smugly smiled back. It was a good move, putting himself in favor of the older Slytherins. "Clever little-" Draco began affectionately.
"Draco. Really." Pansy pursed her lips, cutting him off before he could swear.
"Drop the prim and proper act Parkinson, we all certainly saw you drop it, if you know was I mean, on Friday," Draco's tone was leering but playful, and even though Pansy shoved him, hard, he knew it was in good fun. The prim and proper thing, though it may have been drummed into all of the, as children, they had had great fun smashing those rules one by one starting at age 12, and by now they were the uncultured swine their parents had warned them about.
Theo smirked, he was notoriously good at keeping his clothes on, a skill that only he and Vince possessed, the rest of them tended to become no better than drunk sailors. Blaise got all the girls, Draco made everyone laugh, a pity lay maybe, Pansy bullied people into her bed, Greg tried to take off his clothes while poor Vince and a drunk and overly helpful Drunk Millie tried to get him not too, Adrian was loud and saucy, Morag earned herself he nickname, Morag the Slag, and Liam, Tracy, Daphne and Terry were all the kind to take of their clothes with minimal encouragement- as long as everyone else was.
Of course, Liam hadn't had the brainlessness to tell Davies about exactly how Blaise and Draco had gotten naked, but amongst the Slytherins there was a resigned awe. Granted, they would rather die than admit it (okay, maybe not die) but Draco was sure, and for the first time in a while he felt a small ripple of the satisfaction that had poured out his every pore in the past.
Of course, now everyone had taken to nicking books on becoming an animagus from the restricted section, and innocently asking McGonogall about any subtlety they thought they could get away with. It made Blaise and Draco nearly as smug as Tiny Baddock, because they had an up in already having figured the complex magic out.
Granted that smugness was a bit suppressed by Blaise having a Dark Mark, and Draco turning into a blood thirsty monster he could barely control at least 3 times a month, if not more.
Since their conversation earlier in the year, there had been the subtle resentment for the Dark Lord, at least in Draco's own opinion. Draco sneered at anyone who had nice things to say about him, taunting his own parents for their stupidity for falling all over themselves for a faceless maniac, letting some of the others know that he felt strong armed into this, and that he wasn't happy about it.
It hurt, saying things like that about his parents, and he knew it was dangerous but he couldn't bring himself to care, he was angry, over worked, and tired. And it shouldn't be like this. It should be Draco making everyone laugh, playing Quidditch, effortlessly passing his classes, and maybe getting laid. And Blaise should be strutting about making the girls in 5th year feel lightheaded, and being their parents worst nightmare, and Pansy shouldn't look worried and drawn for her brothers all the time, and Theo shouldn't look for mail his angry family refused to send like a lost little boy every morning.
Baddock shouldn't have to take care of Tiny Baddock, Adrian shouldn't have been kicked out of his home last year, Tracy shouldn't be crying because this year, she was the only Seventh Year Slytherin girl. And none of them should have to be missing Callum Warrington, or Montague, or Marcus, or any of them. They were having their futures tossed out, they wouldn't be able to take their NEWTs, they would be killed either now, or the Dark Lord would kill them, or the Good people would toss them in prison. And it wasn't fucking fair, and even though he grudgingly was still working on his stupid pointless quest for His High Darkness Prince Of All That Is Evil, he couldn't help but feel resentful and angry instead of filled with loyalty and crazed fiery passion like his father had said.
Pansy slipped her hand in his, and squeezed, she could always read his mind, it seemed. She sort of agreed with him, well no she didn't she was scared, and she was angry, and it hurt that her brothers were gone and might get killed, and it hurt that Draco and Blaise and Greg, and Callum and Marcus before them had all been taken and tortured just because. And he knew that she wasn't all, worship prince potter about it, but that she was scared of both sides, and like him, was just trying to find comfort in just being a slytherin, just being here with her true friends, just for now.
But they couldn't turn on this bitter reality, not if they wanted to live past their 17th birthdays.
