I own nothing.
Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum
-Chapter Twenty-Nine
"Good morning Malfoy."
"Good morning," Draco returned as he passed the gaggle of Slytherin second years. It had been almost a month. The younger students fought to hear him speak. The older student fought to question him.
His father had drilled careful planning into him. He had learned to never ask a question he didn't already know the answer to.
Now, a spur of the moment decision had led to him charging head first towards a vague end goal with only his wits to guide him. He had an idea of what he wanted, but there was no plotting. All he could do was guide the students along the path he had chosen and hope they followed it.
Slytherin had led to Ravenclaw and Ravenclaw had even led to a few Hufflepuffs, who had been a surprising stone wall standing in the face of his efforts. Their champion wouldn't stand to hear anything negative about Potter, but even Diggory had his limits when it came to the legend of the Mad Man of Hogwarts. One didn't have to say anything negative to create something terrifying.
Gryffindor remained beyond his reach, but not for the reasons he had expected.
He had thought that they would stand strong in support of their house mate. Instead, it had been hard to get most Gryffindors to even admit to the existence of Potter and his posse.
As far as they were concerned, the house of bravery did not know Potter, had not heard from Potter and certainly did not speak of Potter. And could you please stop asking? Thank you very much.
A true rift between Potter and his house or a defense against their legendarily pugnacious head?
Draco didn't know, but he did know that it would be foolish to push the issue, especially as himself, and fully alienate a quarter of the school.
It was all so fucking refreshing and he loved it.
Yesterday he had passed a group of junior Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs telling stories of the Mad Man of Hogwarts. Beneath the pride, there had been an undercurrent. Potter was their hero. He was their attack dog and they loved him. He kept the school safe in the face of unimaginable terrors. They were also terrified to draw his attention for fear of making a mistake and being savaged themselves.
Then a few of the students had seen him and they had shared a nod with him.
Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had nodded to him. Half of the school, not counting the fourth that Slytherin made up and had supported him from the start.
What it all meant, Draco was still trying to figure out. It did put a smile on his face though. Manipulation through threats, bribery and other heavy-handed tactics had become so boring. He could force people to do what he wanted. So could a troll with an above average intelligence. He could now get people to do what he wanted because they wanted to. Because he was, dare he say it, a friend. Hopefully, one they would stand by through thick and thin.
"Gregory," Draco stated as he found one of his accomplices, sitting at a desk and glaring at his homework.
"Draco," the young Goyle replied courteously. Of the two, Gregory seemed to have taken the least offense to Draco's change of plan.
"Have you seen Vincent?"
"He's reporting to your father," Gregory stated. He looked up from his transfiguration book. "The elder Malfoy has been quite curious about you." Draco stared at the young man in shock.
"Have you always reported to my father?" he asked.
"Of course," Gregory stated.
"I feel that. . .I should not know that," Draco admitted.
"Your father never explicitly forbade us from telling you," Gregory stated. "The topic just. . .never came up before." Draco studied the man he had known his entire life and never actually known. Perhaps he had planted another seed without even knowing it.
"What have you told my father?" he asked curiously.
"You wanted to try something new," Gregory said, "and I would keep him informed of anything I judged to be odd." The man smirked. "I'm a terrible judge of what is odd."
"And Vincent?" Draco ventured.
"He's always been the more fastidious of the two of us," Gregory replied. "He likes his notes and details and despises deviation from the norm."
"I see," Draco said. He felt like he was only now grasping at the intricacies of the life that had been set out for him. "You don't look too pleased with McGonagall."
"Crazy old bat," Gregory grumbled. Draco studied the pages of the open book and immediately recognized the content.
"I'm actually pretty good at this," he admitted. "Would you like some help?"
"I would," Gregory replied.
"Let me get my notes." Draco walked up to the dorm room and opened his chest. Talking was one thing, showing was another. He had a bit of a feeling that Gregory would prefer the later, but really, what did he actually know? Draco frowned as he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "Potter."
"What are you doing Malfoy?"
"Helping my friend study," Draco stated as he turned. The last Potter's eyes seemed to glow in the darkened room. Draco held up his notebook. "You do remember that this is a school, don't you Potter? Some of us need to study and do homework instead of running off and being given passes by the professors."
"You've been talking a lot Malfoy."
"This is a society Potter," Draco stated. "We talk in a society. Also, as I previously mentioned, this is an institution of learning. Talking is a pretty important part of that."
"You've been talking about me," Harry growled.
"Well, you have managed to make yourself quite the popular topic, haven't you?" Draco admitted. "You can't blame me if you keep coming up in conversations, can you?" Potter's scowl deepened and Draco had to smile, this was one lesson he had not thrown out.
Malfoys did not fear. They were feared.
Or, at least, they didn't show fear.
All threats were to be met with indifference or smug superiority.
Another lesson that his father had failed to live up to in the face of the previous dark lord.
"You've been spreading rumors about me," Potter stated.
"Rumors?" Draco asked in surprise. "Rumors are second hand at best. I've been giving people my side of the story Potter. You do remember that I've been putting up with you since before our first train ride, don't you? Or is that below your recollection?"
"What are you trying to pull?" Harry demanded.
"Well, first I will be the Minister of Magic," Draco said candidly, "then I will be the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. After that, we'll just need to see where I end up."
"Not while I live," Harry said.
"Well, I hope you mean that you plan on running against me for Minister of Magic then," Draco commented, "otherwise, you'd be subverting the very foundation that our society is based on, because almost everyone is going to vote for me." Harry studied him for a long moment and Draco couldn't keep the smirk off his face. The silence was only interrupted by the click of the latch on the door opening. Draco turned out of habit and saw Gregory in the doorway.
"Everything alright Draco?" the large young man rumbled.
"Oh, yes," Malfoy stated. "I found my notebook." He didn't even turn to look behind him. He knew that Harry was gone. "Something bothering you Gregory?"
"Just had an odd feeling," the man admitted.
"Oh. No worries then." He started for the door and hesitated before resting a few fingers against the side of his neck. His pulse was hammering wildly and he had no idea as to why. Fear? Excitement? Had Potter always been so terrifying and he had never noticed, was even Draco starting to believe his stories, some combination of the two? The man had burned one professor alive and murdered a giant murder snake in his first two years.
Draco let out a wheezy laugh.
"Draco?"
"I think, I am having fun," Draco admitted. He glanced at the other man. "How long do you plan to stay with me, Gregory?"
"Until I'm bored," the younger Goyle stated.
"Oh good, I'll have you until the end of the ride then," Draco commented, "because this isn't ever going to be boring."
(:ii:)
"You alright, Harry?"
"Had an interesting conversation today," Harry stated as Cedric fell into step beside him as the walked towards the main entrance of the castle.
"Do I want to. . .no. No, I do not want to know anything," Cedric said firmly.
"Now you sound like Neville," Harry grumbled in annoyance. Cedric hesitated for a moment before he just shook his head. They spotted Viktor and Fleur waiting for them at the foot of the stairway leading up to the castle.
"So, a hint about the third task," Viktor stated. "Any ideas?"
"We've had dragons and we've had merpeople," Fleur commented as the group trudged towards the quidditch field. "That's fire and water. What could be next?"
"I think you're overthinking it," Harry answered. "I doubt the headmasters have any sort of logic behind what they're doing."
"My Head Mistress would use logic," Fleur grumbled. No one else felt like trying to defend the leaders of their own schools as they made their way through a gap in the stands surrounding the stadium. Cedric froze with a shocked sound.
"What the fuck?" Harry growled as he surveyed the changes to his beloved pitch.
"Are those hedges?" Fleur asked.
"Hello there!" Bagman cheered as he trotted over to them. His cheerful grin was wiped from his face as Cedric grabbed him by the collar of his robes and dragged him into rather close proximity.
"What did you do to my pitch!" he roared.
"Uh. . .but. . .what. . .uh," Bagman stammered.
"Ah," Harry said sagely, "we all have our limits. Ruining the pitch finally pushed Cedric over his."
"To be fair, we owe him this," Fleur added. "He has been holding it together much better than us."
"I believe that I have been handling all of this very well," Viktor rumbled.
"And I believe that your pursuit of Hermione is, at least partially, a form of self-flagellation," Fleur countered.
"That makes so much sense," Harry gasped in shock. "At least, it does if flagellation means what I think it means."
"Cowards," Viktor growled sullenly. "You will never understand her."
"I've known her for four years," Harry said. "I've fought by her side, hell I've fought her. I understand her perfectly. That's why I'm scared of her. Well, that and whatever the hell she did to Rita."
"Did you ever find. . ." Fleur began.
"Nope," Harry interrupted, "and somehow, not knowing makes it so much worse."
"Not knowing has nothing on knowing," Viktor said quietly. Harry and Fleur stared at him for a long moment, but the Durmstrang champion had nothing more to say.
"A little help here," Bagman managed to squeak. They turned back and found that Cedric had taken the larger man to the ground and was shaking him rather violently. Harry dug out his flask and pried one of Cedric's hands lose.
"Down the hatch," he urged. Cedric took the flask and took a long pull before taking an even longer breath. "Better?"
"I will be as soon as someone tells me that this pitch will be playable the moment this nonsense is done," Cedric said as he rose to his feet.
"Everything will be back," Bagman said quickly, "better than normal! I've been meaning to send a memo that the pitch here could use some updating!"
"Good." Cedric took another long drink and handed Harry back his flask before stalking off a few steps to try to continue calming himself.
"A Hufflepuff," Bagman wheezed. "Who would have seen that coming?"
"Me," Harry offered. The ministry official stared at him in confusion.
"But Hufflepuff is. . .so . . .you know. . ." Harry squatted down next to the man. He kind of liked the fellow, Bagman had never tried to kill him. . .yet and that made him okay in Harry's book. . .for the time being.
"Whatever you're thinking right now," Harry stated, "I just want you to know, that's what Hufflepuff has encouraged you to think for all these years." Harry climbed back to his feet and offered the man his hand. Bagman took it after a moment and was helped to his feet.
"I think I just had a moment of existential terror," he said blankly.
"Don't worry about it, happens to me all the time," Harry admitted. "You'll get over it." He jumped a bit as a hand rested on his shoulder and he glanced back to see Fleur attempting something that looked like a reassuring smile. He returned it as best he could and patted her hand. "So. . ."
"Bagman," Cedric interrupted, making the older man flinch.
"I knew that," Harry growled. "Anyway, so, this is the beginning of a hedge maze."
"Yup!" Bagman declared, some of his boyish excitement coming back to him. "By the time it's ready, Hagrid will have these walls twenty feet high!"
"Hagrid," Harry repeated. "So, the task will be a maze stocked with monsters."
"Monsters, curses, spells and all sorts of other obstacles," Bagman said with the giddiness of a man who was not going to encounter monsters, curses, spells and all sorts of other obstacles. "Now, the points that you've been accruing will decided who gets to enter the maze first. Minster Krum will be first, followed by Mister Diggory and then Harry and Miss Delacour."
"Should we enter together?" Viktor asked.
"It's not a bad idea," Cedric admitted.
"Uh. . ." Bagman began, but he had already been voted out of the conversation by the majority.
"I kind of want to go it on my own," Fleur stated.
"Your ego is showing," Harry commented.
"I have worked hard my entire life and your fancy cup declared me to be the strongest, smartest and most fit of my classmates," Fleur growled. "I'm allowed to have an ego."
"Our fancy cup also put four people into a three-person competition," Cedric pointed out.
"This sounds like something to be discussed over a few drinks," Viktor said.
"Now that is a plan," Cedric replied happily. He glanced at something over Harry's shoulder and an eyebrow rose. Harry spun automatically, his wand already searching for a threat. Instead, he found nothing. "Up there," Cedric stated. Harry glanced up and saw a man on a broom flying recklessly in the skies over Hogwarts.
"Is that Moody?" Harry asked.
"Who?" Fleur asked.
"Their Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor," Viktor stated. Cedric and Harry glanced at him in confusion. "Well," Viktor began uncomfortably, "by now I'm sure you know plenty about my Head Master. He had some. . .choice instructions on what to do if I ever saw that man walking towards me."
"Was it run?" Harry asked.
"Wouldn't have helped," Cedric commented, "just ask Malfoy's dad. Running will only lead to humiliation."
"Actually, he told me to jump out the nearest window," Viktor replied.
"Depending on how high the window was and whether you decided to swan dive, that could actually work," Cedric admitted. He stared back up at the man. "What the hell is he doing?"
"Somebody probably said "dark wizard" too close to him and now he's on the prowl," Bagman replied. "So, how about those drinks? First rounds on me!" The champions all shared a long look for a moment.
"Why not?"
-End
(:ii:)
Still alive! But very, very hurt. Anyway, guess who still has a leg! That's right, this guy. Now guess who still has two legs! Same guy! Gotta say, anterior later total hip replacement, ten out of ten, would do again. That's good since I still have a hip that's rotting away as I type.
Anyway, for my first major surgery, it literally could not have gone better. The nurse one shotted me, blind, in the wrist with an 18 gauge IV. For those of you that don't know, a blind IV is when you can't see a vein, but you can feel a sort of sponginess on the skin. Depending on the sponginess, you sometimes just have to take a guess which way the vein is going and start poking and she did so with the largest IV that can be considered "normal". And you know what, they even gave me a little shot of lidocaine before she started. Apparently, my amazement at her skill made her spend the rest of the day strutting around the OR. She knew she was good, but I'm sure that hearing it is always a nice bonus, especially from someone who knows the ins and outs of the situation.
Then they gave me versed, fentanyl and another shot of lidocaine in my back. I have no idea if the needle they stuck in my spine hurt, or if I was just too juiced out of fucks to give. Then I got wheeled into the operating room where I rolled around for a bit before seeing my IV line suddenly run white. Apparently, my last words were "Oh, hey propofol. How you doing?"
Then I woke up half an hour later and had to wait until I could wiggle my toes again.
Post op was pretty sweet. Drugs are awesome. The only scary part was when they wheeled me up to a recovery room and ultrasounded my bladder.
-Nurse: So, your bladder is currently around seven hundred milliliters. At anything over six hundred we usually put in a catheter. Do you think you can go to the bathroom right now?
-Jack: Give me that urinal and five minutes.
Yup. No catheter for Uncle Jack! Why they would wait until I could feel everything from the diaphragm down again before they started talking about shoving tubes the wrong way up a one-way street is still a mystery to me.
So, now here I sit, about two weeks out. Every day is a little better on my hip, which is good. Having absolutely nothing to do and going through forced sobriety because I'm on valium, is not so good.
Yeah. So. Hanging in there. Waiting on the next one. Dreaming of a gin and tonic. Yay.
Alright, on the story side. So, this one is running a bit short. I wanted to add more, but what's coming up is a little densely packed and I didn't want to write a twenty-page chapter, mostly because that's two updates worth of content and I am lazy.
I tried to find things to trim here, but I kind of like the flow.
Don't worry, Draco isn't going to suddenly be a main character. He's still a smarmy cunt of a tertiary. He's just a smarmy cunt flying in the face of everything he was ever taught and making it up as he goes along, so. . .basically that's kind of fun to write. Maybe he'll go semi-pro and make secondary character status this time around. Also, and this is between you and me, I might be setting him up for a larger role in a potential sequel. Don't tell nobody.
Also, it's kind of fun writing Harry as a terrifying force of madness when viewed from a, how shall we say, opposing viewpoint.
Well, that's all for me. I gotta go wash down my last oxy and diazepam for the day with some Benadryl and black out for a couple. . .dozen hours. And yes. I sound way more druggie than I am, but I totally am not. Listen close now you bratz.
Fuck you, love you.
-Uncle Jack
