If life had been unpleasant for Harry when only Slytherin despised him, it got even worse when practically the whole school turned against him, thinking he had entered himself for the tournament.
Even the Hufflepuffs, especially the Hufflepuffs, who were usually on good terms with us Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold towards all of us. It was likely because they hardly got any glory, except when they beat us once at Quidditch, and Cedric was going to be their champion. Until Harry was announced to be the second Hogwarts' champion.
To everyone's horror, Hagrid announced during Care of Magical Creatures that the reason the skrewts had been killing one another was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for each student to fix a leash on a skrewt and take it for a short walk.
"Roun' the middle," said Hagrid, demonstrating. "Er—yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like. Harry—you come here an' help me with this big one…" It was clever of Hagrid, who had brought Harry out of sight, likely to speak to him about the tournament, as soon as he checked the leashes on our skrewts.
The skrewts were now over three feet long, and extremely strong. No longer shell-less and colorless, they had developed a kind of thick, grayish, shiny armor, but still without recognizable heads or eyes. At least they weren't so slimy anymore.
I yelped as my skrewt shot forward with a BANG from one of its ends, pulling me along with it.
"Oof," I grunted, landing hard on the ground. Around me, the rest of my classmates seemed to be suffering the same fate. I usually liked Care of Magical Creatures, but good Godric, this was just horrid.
"Selwyn," a voice drawled from behind me as I was making my way back to the Gryffindor tower to change my dirty robes. I groaned internally and steeled myself for the usual insults.
"You really can't stay away from me, can you?"
"I need your help." Come again?
"What?" I stopped abruptly. "Say that again."
"I need your help," Malfoy said tiredly.
"You need my help," I repeated blankly.
"Yes," he snapped. "Professor Sinistra told me to ask you for tuition." The last part came out as a bit of a mumble.
"Oh, speak up!" I said delightedly, my lips rising in a grin. Malfoy was asking for help. "Merlin, this is golden."
"Will you help or not?" he sighed in exasperation. "Tomorrow, midnight at the Astronomy tower?"
"I don't know, Malfoy. A clandestine meeting after curfew? This sounds an awful lot like a date," I said doubtfully, arching a brow.
"It isn't a...well, unless you want it to be, sure." A smirk was forming on his face.
"Get over yourself, you aren't that good-looking," I scoffed.
"But I am good-looking."
"You're incorrigible, if anything."
"Most girls would give an arm for an opportunity to spend an evening with me." Could this boy get any more arrogant? I think not.
"Funny, look who's asking who out. Besides, do I look particularly desperate to you?"
"Look," Malfoy sighed. "I'm risking my reputation by asking you for help."
"Really? Because it seems to me that I'd be tarnishing my reputation if I'm seen helping you."
"Fine, whatever. You Gryffindors and your childish pettiness. I don't even know why I bothered." He ran his hand through his pale hair in frustration, turning away.
"Okay, relax," I called after him. "I was going to help. Just wanted to rile you up a bit." I couldn't very well endanger my standing as Sinistra's favorite student, could I? It was the only class I could really beat Hermione at.
"Like I said, childish Gryffindor," Malfoy rolled his eyes, though the relief on his face was obvious. I frowned at him, fighting off a smile that was threatening to rise on mine.
"Do you want that O, or do you not?"
...
Meanwhile, Harry's life was only getting worse. Even as I had said I believed he didn't volunteer himself for the tournament, I wasn't entirely sure I actually did. I had avoided as much contact as I could with him for a while. But that soon ended when I realized, rather guiltily, that apart from Hermione, he really had no one standing with him.
"Hi," I muttered meekly as I sat with them the next day for the first time at breakfast. While Harry looked relieved to see me, Hermione gave me a reproachful frown.
When we arrived at Snape's dungeon for Double Potions that afternoon, we found the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes. For a second, I thought they were S.P.E.W. badges. But then I noticed the blinking words on them, all saying:
SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY—THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!
"Like them, Potter?" said Malfoy loudly as we approached. I wasn't even surprised he was involved. "And this isn't all they do—look!"
He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green:
POTTER STINKS!
Oh, rats.
The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message POTTER STINKS was shining brightly all around the dungeon. I cast a worried glance toward Harry, whose face was turning red.
"Oh, very funny," Hermione said sarcastically, glaring at Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone, "really witty."
Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus, not doing anything. At least he wasn't laughing.
"You're welcome to them, Selwyn. Want one too, Granger?" said Malfoy, pushing a badge into my hand, and holding another out to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see; don't want a Mudblood sliming it up." Merlin, this wasn't going to end well. I really didn't understand how he could act so...comparatively alright when neither of our friends were around, but behave so beastly otherwise.
Harry pulled out his wand without warning. People all around us scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor.
"Harry!" Hermione said warningly.
"Go on, then, Potter," Malfoy said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you now—do it, if you've got the guts—"
'Woah, now. Stop or you'll regret it later," I warned, getting between the two of them with my own wand out just in case.
"I'm sure I won't regret this," Harry snarled.
"Get out of the way, Selwyn," Malfoy said roughly. "You don't want to get into this." I would've stayed in my position, and there was a chance nothing would've happened, if only Hermione hadn't tugged me away. I knew she meant well, but still. Everything happened in a flash.
"Funnunculus!" Harry yelled.
"Densaugeo!" screamed Malfoy.
Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in midair, and ricocheted off at angles—Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Malfoy's rebounded towards me.
"Protego!" I yelped. Fortunately, I sent it flying off again. Unfortunately, it hit Hermione.
Goyle bellowed and put his hands to his nose, where great ugly boils were springing up —Hermione, whimpering in panic, was clutching her mouth.
"Hermione!"
Ron had hurried forward to see what was wrong with her. He dragged Hermione's hand away from her face, and...it wasn't a pretty sight. Hermione's front teeth—already larger than average —were now growing at an alarming rate; she was looking more and more like a beaver as her teeth elongated, past her bottom lip, toward her chin—panic-stricken, she felt them and let out a terrified cry.
"Oh, Godric!" I babbled, rushing over. "I'm so sorry, Hermione! I didn't mean to repel it towards you, I swear!"
"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice.
Snape had arrived. The Slytherins all clamored to give their explanations. Snape pointed a long finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain."
"Potter attacked me, sir—"
"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted.
"—and he hit Goyle—look—" Snape examined Goyle, whose face had began resembling a patch of rotten fungi.
"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly.
"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!"
He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth—she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back. I snarled at them. At least Parkinson had the grace to look the slightest bit afraid at my glowering expression.
Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference.".
Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears, she turned on her heel and ran, ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight. Fury rushed through my body, and I abandoned all pretense of peace.
It was lucky, perhaps, that Harry, Ron, and I started shouting at Snape at the same time; lucky their voices echoed so much in the stone corridor, for in the confused din, it was impossible for him to hear exactly what we were calling him. He got the gist, however.
"Let's see," he said, in his silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter, Weasley, and Selwyn. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions." I was still trembling with rage as I slumped back into a seat next to Harry. Ron had obviously decided he was still angry with Harry, and had elected to sit with Dean and Thomas instead. Snape was a monumental arsehole, and I was barely managing to restrain myself from standing back up and hexing him.
"Antidotes!" said Snape, looking around, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one..." Great. Now he was going to poison us.
Just then, there was a knock on the dungeon door.
It was Colin Creevey, a Gryffindor in a year below us. Beaming obviously at Harry, he walked up to Snape's desk at the front of the room.
"Yes?" said Snape curtly.
"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs." Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face.
"Potter has another hour of Potions to complete," said Snape coldly. "He will come upstairs when this class is finished."
Colin went pink.
"Sir—sir, Mr. Bagman wants him," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs..."
"Very well, very well," Snape snapped. "Potter, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote."
"Please, sir—he's got to take his things with him," squeaked Colin. "All the champions..."
"Very well!" said Snape. "Potter—take your bag and get out of my sight!"
With a brief glance filled with dread back at me, Harry swung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the door. At least the lucky twat got to escape Snape's poisoning. Wonderful. I was nearly positive Snape's next candidate was me.
"Well?" Snape snapped at us. "What are you waiting for?" The classroom was suddenly filled with the shuffling of chairs and feet as we lined up to take our ingredients from the front of the class.
"Hey," someone had taken over Harry's seat.
"Hi, Blaise," I said wearily, setting my ingredients down next to my cauldron. "You should start brewing your antidote. Don't want you getting poisoned, do we?"
"I am," he replied. Only then did I look up and realize that Blaise had transferred his things over from his own seat two tables away. "You look like you need a partner." I didn't actually. We were supposed to make the antidotes on our own. But I understood what he was trying to do.
"Thanks, Blaise," I offered him a smile.
"I suppose it wouldn't help much if I said I was sorry," he commented as we worked.
"Not really," I released a short laugh, adding my crushed Bezoar to my cauldron. "I know you aren't anyway."
"I'm not," he admitted. "We Slytherins look out for our kind, and Potter isn't one of us, but you are. It's unfortunate you got detention, but I'm glad you didn't get hexed during the duel." I made a face at the memory of Hermione's growing teeth.
"It's just you, you know," I murmured, waving my wand over my potion and flopping back into my seat. "You're the only Slytherin who likes me."
"Not true," Blaise grinned, settling next to me, as we waited for our antidotes to finish brewing. "Both Theodore and Daphne like you well enough. They're just afraid. And...well, we know Draco—"
"Nope," I cut him off hurriedly. "He doesn't. What did you say about Nott and Greengrass, again?" His smirk widened at my quick change in topic.
"Most of them don't dislike you, they just hate your friends. To be honest, I don't like them much either. But you were—are—my friend, and I'm not abandoning you just because I don't like the people you associate with."
"Thanks, I think. I mean, you did just...kind of insult my friends. But thanks." I shot him a smile.
Half an hour later, I waved my wand over my simmering potion again, then doled out a portion of the teal-colored antidote into a bottle. Around me, everyone else were, too, finishing up with their antidotes.
"Selwyn," a cold voice said. Oh, Merlin save me. Snape was standing over my table, his shadow blocking the meager light from the dungeon lanterns.
"Sir?" I think I sounded more confident than I felt. Dread washed over me as I noticed the small bottle filled with a deep brown liquid. Weedosoros? Possibly. I wasn't terribly worried, because Potions was one of my best classes. But drinking poison wasn't exactly pleasant.
My hand quivered slightly as I accepted the bottle, and downed it. The effects were instantaneous. An overwhelming wave of sorrow and despair crashed down on me, so heavy that I literally fell to the floor from my chair. I couldn't breathe, couldn't hear anything save the pounding of my heart in my ears. Every unhappy thought I ever had resurfaced in my mind all at once, and amplified a dozen times. Someone whimpered. I think it was me.
Suddenly, a cold hand grabbed the back of my neck, and another forced something down my throat. Everything faded slowly back to normal. Wiping tears from my face, I looked up to see everyone staring at me, and Draco Malfoy kneeling next to me, my now empty bottle of Antidote to Common Poisons in his hands. Was that worry in his face? Whatever it was, it was there for only a second, before it vanished, replaced by an indifferent stare.
"Mr. Malfoy," drawled Snape, "bring Miss Selwyn to the infirmary. The rest of you, back to your seats." Malfoy opened his mouth, as if to argue, but was silenced by Snape's glare. Exhaling deeply, he gripped my arm and pulled me up gently.
"Come on," he said lowly, leading me out of the dungeons.
"Are you feeling alright now?" Malfoy asked, once we were out.
"Yeah, I—I think so," I shook my head to clear the cloud of unhappiness. "Godric, that was horrible."
"It looked horrible."
"Go ahead," I grumbled. "Laugh all you want." My words were met with empty silence, which normally would've been occupied by another quip. I furrowed my brow, and flicked my eyes up to glance at him.
"I'm not going to laugh," he said, looking down at me with an unreadable expression. "I mean it, it looked horrible. I wouldn't like to have been you."
"Oh," I averted my gaze. "Thanks, anyway. For giving me the antidote."
"Don't thank me," he replied shortly, as we reached the infirmary. "Snape told me to give it to you." I didn't answer, didn't know what to say. I could hear muffled cries coming from behind one of the curtained beds, but I only vaguely acknowledged it as Hermione's.
Still dazed from the effects of the poison, I watched Malfoy's retreating back as he left the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey tugging my arm to lead me to one of the beds.
Sometimes, it felt like Malfoy didn't know if he wanted to be my friend or hate me. He was confusing me so much. Usually, I found it relatively easy to figure people out. But with Malfoy, I just didn't have a clue.
this might be one of my favorite chapters so far. actually, now that i think about it, i feel like i might sorta be writing Draco and Camille's relationship based off the very odd kind of friendship me and one of my...ah, crush has. ya know, one of those "it's complicated" kind of relationships. unfortunately, we haven't worked things out. on the other hand, Draco and Camille will work things out (sorta) soon.
some things will happen in the next chapter, and then we'll have a couple of chapters without Draco because we gotta give him a break.
okay, this is sorta unrelated, (and i swear i'm not bashing anyone's writing or anything) but i've noticed a lot of Draco fics always end up with him being a total jerk, and suddenly, it's revealed that he fancies the girl. and somehow, he always steals a kiss from her. i mean, i have liked some really well-written fics like that, but i just don't like the idea of writing it myself. because? consent?
guest who reviewed. i'm assuming both reviews were from you here. i'm glad you noticed i was trying to write a different view of Draco:)) thanks for reading!
catastropherika xo