NOTICE: Some key story elements in Chapter 10 HAVE BEEN CHANGED as of May 17, 2004. If you read Chapter 10 before that date, please go re-read the chapter or the following will make no sense whatsoever.

Also, the following is probably my most verbally violent chapter, and Draco's really really mean to someone. Enjoy.

Chapter Eleven: Really Bad Nighttime Mistakes

Voldemort sat high in his chair, staring hard into the faces of his followers.

"I do not like having to lie, Lord," Lucius spoke, staring down at the ground.

"Lucius, I would enjoy being looked at when someone as devoted as yourself questions my judgement."

"He has done nothing truly wrong, Lord. Fraternizing with mudbloods and muggles does not warrant such-"

"Do not tell me what I believe, Lucius! Is it not true that my beliefs are your beliefs? And if that is so, than such atrocities has your son committed! He has defiled himself, and you will continue on with the plan at hand until it has come to fruition. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord. I understand and... agree completely."

Draco sat next to Pansy again. After their visit to the breakfast hall one week ago, she had obviously decided that they were back together and he was far too lazy and unfaithful to argue with her. So she went around Hogwarts calling him her boyfriend again, but he didn't give it a second thought. He watched her take a peice of bacon off his plate, and opened his mouth to object, but found himself simply... unwilling to bother.

"And so then there was this really weird Muggle machine on top of it and it worked just like omniculars. Like, you could repeat what the box showed over and over. I never thought Muggles were that advanced. They called it 'tie-voe' or something."

Draco had no idea what Pansy was babbling on about. His mind was still running with the information that had been withheld from him by Lord Voldemort. What could possibly be such a big secret that Draco's own consequences were being kept secret from him.

He looked up and across at the Gryffindor table. Hermione just sat there, smiling and eating and reading while she laughed at something Ron had said. Stupid bloody Weasley. Not worth the clothes on their backs - which isn't even that valuable.

"Draco, are you listening?"

"Uh... yeah, baby, whatever you say."

They arrived in London just in time for the game. Hermione was laughing on the train as Fred and George were demonstrating a few of their new inventions, namely a baldness pill, they had on Ginny, who was visibly upset as Fred was pretending to be unable to find an antidote. Poor little bald Ginny had tears running down her face (just as everyone else, except hers were not from laughing) as George soon produced a pill that went into effect just in time. Mrs. Weasley entered the room.

"We're almost there, everyone. Please take hold of your luggage," she ordered, her voice still in its lovably high pitch. Hermione did as she was told, only to have Ron subsequently yank the bags from her (in what she hoped was chivalry) and toss them to his dad.

"Um... thanks," she said, laughing as she caught Harry take Ginny's hand out of the corner of her eye. She said nothing to Ron, who was quite business minded in trying to fit all of their belongings into the "tiny muggle bus" that his father had flagged. Hermione soon corrected him, telling him that it was called a taxi van and agreeing to pay for it with her muggle money. The poor cabbie looked quite confused as the absurdly dressed Weasely family continued cramming odd boxes and bags into the trunk while flagging another vehicle. All in all, Arthur, Molly, Bill, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione stood on the side of a London road, tossing article after article into the two cars. Arthur and Molly soon agreed to allow Ron, Hermione, Harry, Fred and George and Ginny to ride as a group as they rode with Bill, and after what seemed like years of constant deliberation, they were off.

Draco was asleep on the couch in the Slytherin common room, his feet thrown over the black leather couch as Pansy had run off to do some pointless girl shite with Millicent, leaving him luxuriously cranky and blue-balled as he dreampt. What of he wasn't sure - but he didn't want Professor Trelawney to interpret the easter eggs that sprouted legs as he stabbed them. They had green blood.

Draco sprang awake to a quick slap on his forehead, and his eyes stirred to focus on Blaise, who stood above him, his thick dark brown hair spiked as he held up a bag filled with purple shavings.

"Friday night, mate - I say we get all kinds of inappropriate," he spoke, and Draco sighed, running his hand over his forehead.

"I don't know, man, Pansy's probably going to want to shag me and I'm already tired as all get-out."

"Are you pussing out on me?"

"I am not pussing out on you, Blaise... damn. I'm just really knackered and not in the mood." He answered, still looking at him upside down on the couch, "you got any fags, though?"

"A couple."

"Give us one."

"Go fuck yourself."

"So you'll share your root with me but not your cigarettes?" Draco spat. Blaise nodded, and sat down on the couch with him, pulling out thin white papers upon which he sprinkled the purple drug. Draco watched idly as he minded the paintings around him and the main door. Snape could burst in at any moment and suspend the two. Or at least yell at them. Hell, Draco thought, maybe he'll want to join in. He laughed to himself as Blaise began to speak again.

"Let's put it this way. If my mother found out that I was putting a 'disgusting Muggle means of relaxation' to my lips, no doubt you'd be finding me in peices in my house," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette which he handed to Draco.

"Incendio," he whispered, aiming his wand at the cigarette, which instantly lit. He took a drag as Crabbe and Goyle walked in, looking obviously mad at being left out of the smoking. Blaise took the hint, and tossed the bag to Goyle.

"I can't believe you started without us."

"Well you're fatter than us so it takes you longer to get here after dinner, tubbo," Draco said, attempting to blow a perfect circle. Goyle failed to pick up on the insult and just nodded, as Blaise smirked.

"Crabbe, where's your little girlfriend?"

"Ah, fuck her."

"I plan to," he said, and dodged the clumsy swing from his fist. Draco laughed.

"Draco, why aren't you-"

"I don't need to get any sleepier," he said, answering Crabbe's question before he finished. The four of them sat there, smoking and joking and laughing for a while, until, of course, Pansy and Millicent came bouncing down the stairs. Draco sat quickly up to look between his feet as Pansy smiled and walked over to him, taking his cigarette.

"I've got something to show you," she whispered, and Draco smirked to Blaise.

"Duty calls."

The Cannons had won! Ron's family had ridden boisterously back to their inn in a caravan of smaller taxis, which upon exiting they had gone to their separate rooms. Molly and Arthur of course shared one, as did Fred and George. Bill had his own, right next to Harry and Ron's, who were across the hall from Ginny and Hermione.

It was only after everyone had been ordered 'straight-to-bed' by Mrs. Weasley did Fred and George invite themselves into Harry and Ron's room for some well-needed post game partying. Soon after, Hermione and Ginny followed suit. And then George opened the mini-bar.

Draco laid on the bed, his black pants still on, staring at Pansy, who sat topless on his lap.

"What do you think?" She asked, and he could not manage to take his eyes off of her breasts. "Draco?" The metal studs that now penetrated her nipples just seemed to glare at him, and he tilted his head, still unable to comprehend this act.

"Pansy, why did you let Millicent shove needles into your tits?"

"You don't think it's sexy?"

"You look like a pin-cushion." As the words left his mouth, her face seemed to turn red with anger.

"Yeah, well, you looked like a total poof all up on Blaise earlier." And suddenly, Draco had no idea what came over him. All he was capable of doing was swiftly taking the back of his hand to Pansy's face, which promptly made a quick SMACK! on contact and she was then on the floor next to him, clutching her face as she looked up to him.

"Oh... fuck."

She got up and removed her hand. On her left cheek was a quickly reddening handprint. For a moment, Draco was absolutely sure she was going to cry. But she didn't. Instead, she punched him squarely in the face. If that's how she wants to play... Draco sprang from the bed quickly tackling Pansy to the ground.

"Don't ever hit me, you stupid skank!" He screamed at her as soon as they hit the floor. She struggled, slapping him a few more times as he managed to pin her. "We're even! We're bloody even now and if you hit me one more time I swear to Voldemort that I will rip those fucking bolts right out of your tits so fast you won't even feel it until I am playing in your blood, YOU WHORE!" He screamed, almost unaware of the words that were leaving his mouth. He didn't even see the quite angry and fearless Pansy writhing under him anymore. He shut his eyes, and saw his father. "You evil asshole..."

"You are an asshole, Draco, and if you touch me again, I won't hesitate to tell Snape about you and your weed."

"Do it, and I'll tell him that you shagged Bradley Tuck in his Potions class!"

"Go ahead, Draco! Tell him! I don't care! Bradley was a much better lay than you any day of the week."

"Well, I had a better time fucking Granger than you!" He spat, and suddenly, reality came hurtling towards him like a Patronus. "Oh no..."

It was the next morning when Hermione had woken up not in her room that really shocked her. The room looked oddly similar to her own, except that the painting above the headboard was different and the beds were on different sides of the room. She suddenly felt quite worried when she had to reach down to the floor beside her to get her pants. She still had on her underwear, though, which was slightly torn on one side for reasons she couldn't remember. But it was only when she finally stood up out of the bed, in her camisole and slacks that her eyes met with the mirror and she was quite horrified at the reflection.

She stood in the middle of a hotel room with a pounding headache and an even worse hickey. But in the bed next to her was a boy, and poking out of the covers was the back of a very red head.