A/n- Not much to say! Thanks so much for the reviews, it made me feel a lot better- I'm almost one-hundred percent.
Disclaimer: I do not own HP.
Summary: Ooh, classes, what fun!
The Other Side of Fate
It was around eleven when Draco finally murmured the dungeon's password, let himself in, and nearly collapsed onto the Slytherin couch. Delicately did he let his hand cover his brow, shielding his view from the empty, fire lit room.
Flames danced behind his vision as the heat from the smoldering embers cast eerie shapes upon the walls, the hearth rug.
Malfoy smiled in a cheeky, schoolboy kind of way- unguarded.
He still felt Hermione's lips upon his pale neck.
When she had first seen him, as he walked slowly down the spiraling steps, one foot in front of the other, a hand out against the wall to steady himself, she could hardly keep from bounding up to him. Malfoy had noticed. The way she wanted to fret over him, coo him, yet she held it back.
It made him proud to see her anxious at the bottom of the stairs, aware of his own strength and his own need.
But when he reached her, it was he that held her in a tight embrace. His cloak, wrapped round her shoulder blades, allowed her to move into the warmth of his frame, encircle his chest with her arms.
After a long moment then, she spoke.
"What did he say?"
Draco let out a fretting sigh.
"I'm expelled."
"What?!" Hermione pulled away with an outcry.
She spotted his smirk, his chin lifted so he looked down to her.
"Oh, you horrible little ferret!" Hermione pressed a palm to her chest. "Don't do that to me." She glared at him, a hand clutching at the sleeve of his robe.
Draco rolled his eyes playfully, a smile dancing in the dim light.
"Sorry… no, I said I'd do it."
The side of Hermione's lips quirked upwards as she lifted her hand to Draco's ashen cheek. Grazing, from temple to chin, she stared, near wondrously at him.
"Are you being serious?"
Her parted lips were such an invitation. Draco smiled and nodded slowly, wishing her hand would continue its long motions across his cheek.
"Oh, god, Draco!" She hugged him again, but Draco evaded the embrace, bending instead to kiss her lips. Hermione, caught off guard, gave a short little gasp into his mouth. A murmur of laughter bubbled up from Draco's chest, causing the kiss the tremble.
Draco, sitting by the Slytherin fire, smiled, tilted his head back over the couch, and let his arms splay wide against the plush softness.
Oh, he loved this couch.
He could sleep this couch.
Yet, he had Potions tomorrow- as well as Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic- and, well, he was not looking forward to seeing the Gryffindors, the Slytherins, and Snape in the same room, so the more rest he could get, the better.
With a tiny moan of fatigue, Draco stood and unclasped his robe in the same motion. The inky black cloth slid over his hands like water, like wet silk over black slate stone. With a narrowed gaze did Malfoy pull the Slytherin crest taunt over his palm.
The snake's fangs sparkled in the firelight.
Yet, it was only stitching, wasn't it?
Tentatively, Malfoy drew a long finger over the crest. Eyebrow raised, he looked at the pad of his digit. It was stitching after all, not real fangs, not real blood.
For the first time- not in the Great Hall, not at the Platform- did Draco feel like a stranger in his own domain. Looking up through silver lashes, Malfoy took in his surroundings.
These people, they had real fangs; they could draw real blood.
Best to look … preoccupied.
Look unnoticeable.
Draco smirked.
Like that was possible.
Sighing, Draco stepped down into his Common Room, swinging the door open quietly, taking pains not to wake any of his fellow Slytherins. He saw Blaise was asleep, as was Crabb; a few other boys were missing but Goyle was still up, his bed on the complete opposite side of the room.
He was…
Draco did a double take as he pulled off his cloak.
He was reading?
The boy must have noticed the stare, because he looked up over his illuminated wand, eyes magnified under a pair of small reading glasses. At Draco, he turned pink, and tried to focus back to the book he was absorbed in. Although he appeared to be reading, Draco saw him squirm and he wondered just how much Zabini was forcing them to do his bidding. Come to think of it, probably just as much Malfoy had- maybe even more.
Draco tried a weak smile, but the boy did not return it. Malfoy rolled his eyes when he turned his back, slipping out of his shoes and socks, pulling off his school slacks and placing his wand on his pillow. After he was dressed for bed, his picked up his wand again. Running it next to his head, he murmured a little charm. Instantly was his tangled hair smooth again, instantly was his face again clean and his teeth then brushed.
Draco licked his lips, a pleasant minty flavor playing upon them. Oh god did he adore magic.
Glancing up at Goyle, Draco saw he was still reading.
Who would have thought? Next the boy would be making intelligent conversation! Oh the horror of it!
Draco smirked as he pulled back the summer blankets on his bed, his wand still in his hand. For a moment, as his skin was cooled and goosbumped against the cold cloth, he was afraid to let go of the thing. It was a silly thought, yet, he wasn't sure he liked the idea of his wand laying idle while he slept next to those he had betrayed.
As Draco's bed was closest to the door, Blaise's was directly to his right. Malfoy looked over and saw the hangings on the other boy's bed were drawn shut.
He tried to lay more comfortably, the sheet just below his shoulder.
His wand was still in his hand.
Reluctantly, Draco reached out to place it on his bedside table. Mid-motion, he paused, thought a moment, and then stored it under his pillow.
.o.o.o.o.
The pleasant sound of screaming and laughing teenage boys woke Draco with a good start. He twitched, his hand shooting up to grab his wand. It took a few moments of laying completely still and listening to the chatter for his heart to stop beating in his throat like he was about to have a heart attack.
"I heard Snape's not teaching Potions any longer."
"What?"
"Defense Against the Dark-."
"Are you serious?"
Groaning, Draco turned over and attempted to pull his pillow over his head, but realized he was still holding his wand. Glaring, he sat up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Looking around, he saw that everyone was already up.
Conjuring his cloths, he grimaced at the way the Slytherin snake looked so harmless in the morning light- what had he been thinking? Monsters in the dark-ha!
A slanting smirk and Malfoy was up and heading out of the Common Room, hoping not see a soul on the way down to breakfast before realizing he'd slept through it. Grumbling, Draco pulled his books into the crook of his arm and made his way along the hallway to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Malfoy actually took the long way, the way other students usually took instead of the Slytherin shortcut. That was, at least, a way he could avoid any nasty looks from his peers. Atop one of the staircases, he spotted Hermione, Potter, and the Weasel.
He didn't move, tried to look casually stoic. A sneer curled his lip as he watched them descend, laughter dancing in his eyes. As they reached him, he tilted his head a fraction and a small smile lit up his pale face. Hermione blushed and took the next few steps a little quicker.
Draco held her against his side as the staircase jumped to life.
"How are you?"
Hermione took a deep breath, a wildly excited expression beaming from her face. "Anxious. First day of classes. Although I'm sure I'm the only one who's thrilled." She sent a condescending glance to her fellow Gryffindors. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Don't tell me she spend time actually studying before we've even had the lesson." Draco crooned over her head. Harry shook his head exasperatedly.
"Not before trying to get us to study with her."
Hermione smiled sheepishly and Ron ignored everyone completely. Harry scrunched up his face after a moment's pause.
"Did you hear anything about Snape?"
Draco felt oddly offended. "No, Potter. Why would I care what that man does?"
"I heard he's got the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."
Draco felt as if he choked on the air he breathed. "What?" He sputtered. "That's impossible!"
Hermione clutched her books tighter to her chest.
"Well, we'll see in a moment, won't we?"
The classroom, usually brightened by the long windows, was as dank and musty as ever. Draco had the distinct impression that gloom and evil just followed Snape around no matter what room he was in. The only illumination were the long candles in brackets on the walls.
The four of moved to a table against the wall, but Malfoy moved into the corner, just the way he wanted. Unnoticed. Hopefully unnoticed.
Hermione looked torn from wither or not to sit with Harry and Ron in the middle of the back of the room, or with Draco on the side. Malfoy, for one, felt that even if he was siding with Potter, he didn't need to become a part of his little fan club. He'd avoid the boy best he could.
Old habits, it seemed, died quite hard.
In the end, Hermione sat next to Draco. After a moment, she squirmed in her seat, unaccustomed to sitting in the back of the room.
"I hope I'll be able to see."
Draco grinned, spilling his books on the desk in front of him.
An odd jumpy feeling coursed through his veins as the time till class slowly ticked down. Malfoy wasn't sure if he liked it, a worried look twisting his face. It wasn't Snape, he wasn't frightened of Snape. 'Frightened' was not the word, not by a long shot.
He was terrified of the power the man possessed, not the man himself. Oh, he wasn't a Deatheater- that was laughable. Hadn't it been Snape his father had raved about his first year at Hogwarts? Snape! The only person close enough to Dumbledore...
Oh, there was no mistake that every move Draco made that year would be reported with much regularity to his parents, courtesy of the Slytherin Head of House of course.
His parents.
"Oh damn."
Hermione stole a glance. "What is it?"
"Nothing, I just-" He had forgotten his mother's incessant pestering about McNair, his father, the Dark Lord. What if they had become suspicious?
"Draco…"
He had to Owl her. Tell her he needed just a little more time; get settled into term before he had made a clear decision about what his father had asked of him.
"Draco?"
Atop the spiral staircase, the large door leading to the Professor's office banged open.
"Dra-"
"That is enough!" Snape's voice hissed, cutting through the chatter. Malfoy shook his head at Hermione, who fell silent. He looked up to see Snape dart a glare in his direction; Draco did his best to look just as menacing. He wasn't sure he had pulled if off. "There will be no idle chit chat and disruptions in my class"
The Slytherins grinned and Malfoy watched Zabini slide his feet up so he was leaning back in his chair.
"Now," Snape waved his wand at the chalkboard, the white block darting up to begin scribbling furiously on the rough surface.
Defense Against The Dark Arts: Year Six
"For this lesson," The man's nostrils flared as he folded his arms, squinting around at them. "And for this lesson only will you be using those idiotic text books." He paused. "Well? Get out your textbooks!" The class moved instantly to fish their bags up from the floor, pulling out their heavy literature.
Snape smiled; it was terrible. He looked like a cat that'd just caught a plump juicy mouse.
He had won. He had been given the most influential and most powerful teaching position on the Hogwart's Staff and he knew it.
Malfoy grimaced.
"Now," Snape folded his hands together. "Because all of you have undoubtedly completed your Summer homework…" He took some kind of sick pleasure in the looks on a few of the student's faces. "We'll begin by skipping the Forward chapter, the Explanation, and Chapter One. Begin on Chapter Two. Take notes. Concentrate!" The students started rummaging around for quills and parchment. "And no talking!" Draco was mildly amused at the way he stared at Potter and the Weasel when he stressed the last part.
"I've already finished outlining chapters one through six." Hermione sounded nearly devastated. "Do you think we'll be outlining chapter seven too?"
"Who cares?" Draco mumbled, trying to concentrate, a hand running through his shining hair.
"I care."
"Well, that makes one of us then, doesn't it?" He drawled. Hermione pursed her lips
"No talking!" Snape snapped from his patrolling through the rows of students. The way his elbows stuck out- it made him look like an overlarge bat.
"I should tell him I've already outlined it." Hermione fidgeted.
"You'll do no such thing. I don't want him looming over us."
"But-"
"Miss. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, if you do not cease your incessant chatter I'll-"
Malfoy looked up and locked eyes with the Professor. Snape's gaze was cold, yet Draco's was just as fierce. How dare he talk to him like that- like he would Harry Potter- like some lowly student.
"Stop talking." Snape hissed in a low, dangerous voice. Malfoy's lip curled. "Now."
Yet, it seemed as if the couple in the back of the room we're the only ones being chastised. Pansy was, for one, giggling her damn little Slytherin socks off in the front row. Draco was constantly looking up, torn away from his work by another annoying little shriek of girlish frivolity.
He wished she would either shut up, of explode already, for her hiccoughing was gaining in pitch.
More then once did his attention swerve so that he took the same line of notes twice.
"Oh, stop Blaise! You're just being silly!"
Draco wanted to gag.
Instead- of gagging or taking notes- Malfoy allowed himself to tune out not only Pansy's simpering, but also the words on the page in front of him. Tilting his head up from his textbook, he watched Hermione bent over her work.
As she scribbled, making another tic mark in the column, a lock of hair fell into her face. She puffed at it, once, and it fluttered up only the sink back down into her gaze. Draco suppressed a smile; her quiet determination, the way her shoulders hunched when making out a particular word, it was all strangely priceless.
His favorite part was when she became so intensely absorbed in her work that she held her breath when writing a bullet point down on her parchment; as if the motion was needed such as breathing was pushed by the wayside. When the line was done and period marked, her breath came out in a tiny sigh which ruffled the paper. Malfoy watched her breasts heave delicately as he breathed
Draco's quill had stopped mid-dip as he stared; he hadn't moved in a good minute and a half, maybe two. He hadn't noticed that Snape had been hovering over his head the entire time
He did notice when a tuft of his hair was grasped about long, thin fingers, his neck becoming instinctively ridged for fear of being scalped.
Snape pushed the boy's head back down so it was millimeters away from the textbook. The man's anger was so concentrated that his hand shook, thus jittering Draco's head so the text he was staring at blurred.
"When I say concentrate I mean for you to do your work. Mr. Malfoy." Draco could tell he was trying very hard to keep his voice level and even. The whole class turned round to stare. Oh, he knew Snape had been waiting, just waiting since the Feast to corner Draco, humiliate him. "Not stare at your-" The man struggled and Draco thought for a brief, blinding, terrifying moment he was about to say 'mudblood'. "Girlfriend."
"Yes Professor." Draco's breath hit the book and rebounded into his face.
"Yes- what, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape was speaking through gritted teeth.
"Yes, sir." And the grip on his head was relieved, but not before a few strands of silver-gold were parted from his scalp, having been tangled between the Professors' Slytherin ring. The spot where his hair had been pulled- a small number of hairs pulled out- smarted a little, but Draco didn't touch it. He wouldn't look weak.
Instead, he raised his head a fraction from where it had been pressed into the book and stole a glance at Hermione. Her mouth was hanging open; eyes shinning with what he thought were distressed tears. Draco shook his head fractionally and scribbled out.
I'm fine.
On his parchment.
Hermione didn't move and the ink in her quill dripped onto the table. She closed her mouth and set her feather down. Draco stiffened.
Don't you stick up for me. He though.
Hermione's hand found his under the table, where Snape couldn't see.
Draco relaxed to her touch.
It was only a year.
He could survive a year.
.o.o.o.o.
Hermione bid Draco goodbye after that evening's classes and dinner in the Great Hall- where Draco again sat at the Gryffindor table, much to the chagrin of glaring Slytherins.
"How long is he going to be doing this?" Ron had asked Hermione over a bowl of something warm and steaming. Hermione looked puzzled, Draco glancing up from where he was buttering a slice of toast.
"I don't know what you're getting at." Hermione blinked at the redhead.
"How long is he going to be doing this?"
Malfoy put down the butter knife, mildly amused, an interested smile playing about his lips- it came off more like a sick smirk. Harry raised an eyebrow over his goblet.
"I don't know Ronald, why don't you ask Draco."
"Yeah, Ronald" Ginny simpered as she sat down next to Harry. The group looked at her. "Okay, sorry, what are talking about?" Her brother shot her a look. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."
Ah, the mini- Weasel.
"Ron was just asking Draco-"
"Wasn't asking him nothing, was I?"
"I think I'll stay as long as I'm welcome." Draco clipped; his neatly cut syllables cutting above the other's speech. Ron grimaced, but Harry looked quite impressed.
The boy nodded thoughtfully. "We'll take your word on that, Malfoy."
Ginny stretched her hand over to grab a spoonful of mashed potatoes, her other hand having to lift up the sleeve of her robe so it didn't dip in the food. "Well, at least two of us don't mind you, Draco." Both Ron and Malfoy looked at her.
Draco squinted at her.
Cheeky little Weasel.
Ron's face, heated, turned towards his sister. "What to do you mean two of us?"
"Oh don't be thick. I don't mind him, and I don't think Hermione does, so, that makes two then, doesn't it?"
Harry actually started laughing.
After, Draco and Hermione had bid everyone a good evening, Hermione insisting she had to study and Draco just being completely exhausted- in truth, he wasnt going to just sit there with Hermione gone, was he?
Ron had left even earlier then they, having just gotten up and walked away.
"Do you want to meet me, later tonight?" Hermione leaned against the Gryffindor portrait hole. Malfoy, who had already kissed her goodnight, stopped half way down the staircase. Turning round, he raised an eyebrow at her.
"You said you had to study." A smile threatened to break his cold expression. His weight shifted to his back foot as he climbed the stairs once more.
Hermione just shrugged, eyes leveling up to meet his. Draco smirked.
"I don't have to, actually."
Draco made a fainting gesture with his hand, holding it up to his forehead. Hermione pursed her lips.
"Alright then, where? When?" Draco didn't really have to ask; he wanted to hear he say it. His pale hand looked white against the curl of her hair. Hermione just smiled and pulled away, putting up both her hands, fingers splayed wide. 10. Whispering the password, she slipping inside the portrait hole.
Malfoy shoved his hands into his pockets; his cloak pulling comfortably on his shoulders, as he made his way back to the dungeons His good mood was only slightly dampened by the prospect of having to see the Slytherins.
You know, he had a good two hours; he could go to the Quiddich pitch, get some of his Slytherin gear and do a few laps around the goalposts. That would be a nice way for him to avoid his House.
As the stone snake jumped aside, Draco was graced with the sight of a large group of students huddled round the center table. Balise and another student kneeled in the middle, a game of Wizard's Chess between them. Pansy hung on to Blaise's arm.
A great cry went up and the mass of ten or twelve students jumped back- howling with laughter. Blaise's opponent's Knight went flying off the table in a few marble chunks.
Malfoy stood for a moment, his body twisted round so his shoulders faced the game. Bemusement flickered in his eyes as he watched; his face calmly blank. He felt, rather than consciously made, his hands ball into fists within his cloak.
After a second, Zabini paused and glanced over, his face pinched. The game got a little quieter. Draco sneered back and walked down the steps to his room, throwing open the door.
He saw Marcus Flint at the large wardrobe in the back of the room- the Slytherin team having been keeping their equipment in their House rather then down at the Quiddich Pitch. His father had suggested it.
Wouldn't want the other Houses to tamper with your prized possessions, would you?
Now, Draco surmised it was probably just because his father didn't want his money to be wasted on equipment that was stored out in the elements rather then him giving a damn about their 'possessions'.
"Flint." Draco hissed as he stood behind the boy, the other's bunk making it impossible for Malfoy to reach into the locker. The boy stiffened.
"Wud'ya want, Malfoy?" Flint curled his lip and didn't turn around.
"My things. My broom. Flying gear. It's nothing concerning you."
A low, sickening chuckle oozed out of the boy's lips. "Not yours anymore." Malfoy, shocked, could feel his blood pressure rise.
"And why would that be, Marcus?" He was careful not to shout
The boy laughed again, stepping away from the locker and pushing the door closed. "You're off the team."
Draco felt the world tilt dangeriously.
"What?" Malfoy's brow knit, his head pitched a slight forward. He wasn't sure he heard right.
"You're off the team. We've found a new Seeker. You've been replaced."
He couldn't believe what was happening.
"It's my broom, you troll!" Draco hated the way he sounded like a little child.
"Actually, Malfoy, they were a gift from your wonderful father." Flint towered over the shorter boy. "It's my call to revoke as I see fit, I am the captain." Draco's mouth opened and closed silently. "And don't use that 'my father' bullshit, Malfoy. He can't help you now." He lowered his voice. "As if he'd want to- you're a disgrace."
Draco's chest rose and fell sharply.
Replaced.
"Who?" He asked breathlessly.
Marcus Flint opened his mouth, but Draco raised his hand to silence him.
"Don't tell me." Livid, he closed his eyes, shook his head. "Don't bloody tell me." Malfoy turned and stormed out of the dormitory. Flint called his name in warning, but Draco's vision was swimming red.
"Zabini!" He roared as Flint sprang through the door behind him.
The chess game stopped and all heads turned. Blaise, mid move, stopped to stare. His shocked face bled away to a malicious smile.
Draco's chest heaved with anger, his lungs burning.
Blaise stood, his stature being a good three inches taller then those around him. Calmly, he excused himself off Pansy's grip and out of the inner circle. Walking up, he stood an arms length away.
"I'm in the middle of a checkmate, Malfoy, what do you-"
"You know." Draco cut him off. "I was fine with your coup d'état. I was fine with your snide comments and you're prancing around like you bloody own the Slytherin House!" He was yelling now. "I was fine- brassed off- but fine, with your petty little remarks about Hermione! But you're damn cocky- out of your mind- if you think you can-"
"Draco!" Pansy's high, sickening voice called to him from the couch where she gripped the leather in a white knuckled grasp. She looked frightened- of him or Blaise, Draco couldn't tell.
Malfoy pointed at her over Zabini's shoulder, right arm up.
"You shut up!"
In a quick motion, the back of Blaise's left hand came up and knocked Draco's away. "Shove off Malfoy." The taller boy looked bored. Draco's eyes became wide as saucers, his body nearly shaking with rage.
There was a silent pause and Draco made a move- not for his wand, he didn't know why he didn't reach for it- but instead he pulled back the hand that had been pushed off- his knuckles curling into a punch. His torso twisted as the arm came back. He was going to kill him; he was going to kill Zabini.
Before he could snap back the punch, Draco felt something hard sticking up and into his ribs, beneath his cloak. He froze, his body twisted. Blaise's wand tip dug hard into his side. Malfoy tried to look stoic, but a flicker of pain crossed his face.
Zabini smiled, bloodthirsty, and twisted the wand tip. A small hiss escaped Draco's lips and he bristled.
The room was silent, even Pansy- who was looking away.
"Now, Malfoy, this is a curious situation." Zabini leaned in, his almond eyes slits. "What would Snape think to see his prized student trying to pull a punch on one of his own? Oh…" His voice held a laugh. "That's right; you're not his prized student anymore."
"And you are?" Malfoy smirked- weakly.
Blaise's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm a lot closer then you are, my dear friend." The wand tip traveled painfully up Draco's skin, the wooden tip leaving a trail of heat and fire up Malfoy's side.
Draco's gaze was locked with Zabini's glittering eyes.
The wand tip went up and up to Draco's chest and Malfoy shuttered involuntarily under its agonizing caress.
"You know, Malfoy…" The wand was soon shoved up under the Slytherin crest on the breast of Draco's shirt. "I could burn this off you."
Draco didn't breath, he didn't move.
The wand pressed one more time into Draco's flesh before it was retracted.
"But I won't. I'll let you go." Zabini's palm shot out and hit Draco in the chest, making the boy stumble a few paces back, but not fall.
Draco glared, but he knew he was beaten. He couldn't do anything with nearly half the House there. His eyes darted around and saw that a few of the boys already had their wands out. Pansy's gaze flickered over to him and she looked resignedly stoic.
Draco gave a short little huffing laugh, it would have been more audible, but his side pained.
Instead, he retreated out the Common Room to meet Hermione, unable to stand being in the same room as Zabini any longer.
A chorus of yells followed him as the stone Snake slid open. Before the door was fully closed , Malfoy had to jump out of the way as a curse hit the door frame and showered the outer hallway in an array of red sparks.
For a moment, Draco felt as if he was going to wretch right there in the damp corridor.
A/n- wow, long chapter, huh?
Don't worry, if you think all this is, like, 'story' and there's not 'plot stuff' going on, just you wait! This chapter's key! (well, except the Goyle reading part, I kinda just threw that in there)
Anyway, next chapter coming next Sunday!
Review, it makes the prospect of long chapters like this that much more plausible!
REVIEW!!