Standing on a bridge as both sides burn,
Torn, I stand twisting in the wind.
Nothing to reach, nowhere to turn.
There's Something I'm missing, that I hope to find.
Maybe you can help me call it to mind.
As the clepsydra drains,
As even the darkness fades,
Your inconstant smile draws me back,
Like water to the drowning man
I know I stand here on the wrong track,
Take the world by storm, by fire, by lightning itself
But whatever you do, don't just sit on the shelf.
Another poem, Draco thought, sealing it and leaving it by Zambini's bed with a knut. He knew that Zambini would do as asked - favors were both given and taken in Slytherin House, and roommates had enough favors criss-crossed that they were nearly family by the time they graduated. That was how it had always been. Draco Malfoy had taken favors enough from Crabbe and Goyle, and he'd repay them, in his own time. They, in turn, had respectfully asked favors of him. Occasionally.
It was breakfast, and the Gryffindor boys were at the Steal Granger's Mail game again, no matter how uncouth, or plain churlish it looked. Draco's face was entirely impassive - his eyes trained on a nasty Ravenclaw breakup that he knew both parties would regret doing in the middle of the Great Hall during Breakfast. Once they stopped being so angry they could drive dragons off their eggs, that is. Intelligence like that was priceless, so Draco Malfoy paid it close attention, even as - out of the corner of his eye - with only a corner of his mind, he watched the Gryffs. They were wildly speculating (he had missed them sniffing the envelope, but that was no matter), Weasel and Potty's hands gesticulating.
Oh, how Draco Malfoy despised them. Even the youngest Slytherin would have noticed the trap - and a Hufflepuff would have asked "Why did the scent change?" But the Gryffs? They were feckless, pummeling right down the nearly vertical slope, as if off a nasty cliff, heedless of the near-certainty that they'd break their fool necks.
Draco Malfoy gave them three days. Friday, that would make it. Draco would be watching.
[a/n: Draco is having entirely too much fun for a lovesick boy. Leave a review folks, we still have Potions before the end of the day. Have you figured out why he used sandalwood yet?]