A/n- I'm back and burned and reluctant for school to start- omg I'm almost a senior!!! Anyway, I'm sure I'll think up more by the end so… on with the story!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is all J. K. Rowling's (btw, did you know she has NO middle name? It's just 'J'. Freeeaaakkkyyyy…)

Summary: Stuff happens. Hehe

The Other Side of Fate

For the first few weeks Draco experienced nothing short of what seemed like the universe tipping completely over and possibly being shaken a few times.

It was a strange thing to, after classes, head up to the Gryffindor Common Room, sit by the fire, and stay there all night. The first time he had transfigured the couch into a kind of cot, but that didn't go over to well, so he ended up just starting to sleep on the couch itself.

By the third week, no one even sent a second glance towards him. Hermione divulged, reluctantly to him, that Harry had kindly quieted a half-hearted riot that Seamus cooked up and basically told the House to live with it. Either they were afraid of Harry himself or they thought saying anything was going to get Malfoy mad enough to curse them like he did Katie Bell.

But still, it was strange not to wake up to a four poster bed every morning…

"I told Dumbledore."

Draco looked up from his book that was propped up on a knee- Advanced Potions- while Hermione was transfiguring her quill into a radio aerial for kicks. They both glanced at Harry who had just walked through the portrait hole.

"Told him what?" Malfoy hissed.

"About this whole thing…" With one motion Draco's letters fell onto the fireside table. Malfoy stared at them, a chill going up his spine at the sight of his father's handwriting.

Hermione made a small noise. "What did he say?" The boy sat down opposite the pair and pushed the letters more towards Draco, who picked them up with a look as if he were touching something unpleasant.

Harry looked worried. "Nothing, that's just it... He said nothing. Kind of just smiled and nodded and started on about Horcruxes and memories and stuff.

"Oh wonderful." Draco simpered. "Even if we do have a problem the old man won't say anything about it." Hermione gave him a look but Harry nodded his head slowly.

"I was surprised…"

Malfoy dropped his book onto his lap, sneering. "I wouldn't be. Old man never cared for anything other than his school and his bloody-" He broke off in frustration, unable to bring himself to say 'Wonder Boy'.

Harry's brow knit. "I didn't mean…" But he trailed off on the look on Draco's face. Hermione put a hand on the Slytherin's shoulder. Draco sighed and pulled the most recent letter off the pile.

"I should write my father; tell him everything." He met Hermione's gaze which was fearful; she shook her head vehemently.

"That'll just make things worse."

Harry looked restless; Draco eyed him suspiciously. "Look, we've got Apparition lessons tomorrow and Ron's still practicing down at the pitch." Draco gave him the raised eyebrow look. "I don't want to start on about your father or about Dumbledore; it's too late. I'm going to bed."

Malfoy picked his book back up as Harry walked up to the dorms; Hermione staring after.

"He's being worked too hard."

Draco snorted, earning another look. He was about to say another snide remark but it had become increasingly difficult for him to muster up fresh and innovative insults. His pride was getting the better of him.

"He is; Dumbledore shouldn't been expecting Harry to always help him with those Horcruxes! Harry's got school too!"

Draco put down the textbook again, aware that now there would be no point in studying.

"If Potter wants to go on wild goose chases then its his problem wither he can stay awake in Defense Against the Dark Arts or not, not ours."

"But-"

Malfoy looked away, the letters still clutched within his hands. He felt Hermione tug his arm.

"I'm just trying to help." Hermione sounded a tad defeated. Draco whirled his tongue against his teeth, thinking.

"I believe Potter cannot do this on his own, but he is reluctant for you and the Weasel to help. By that stupidity alone I don't think we should bother."

Hermione pursed her lips, annoyed. Draco reached over and traced his hand through her hair.

"I wouldn't worry." Draco grinned.

"Speak for yourself."

.o.o.o.o.

"Oiy, oiy get up!"

Someone was yelling very loudly in Draco's ear. He mumbled and tried to ignore it.

"Yu know, I dun think I like yu being 'ere every time I wake up! Get up!"

Malfoy murmured softly, "Finnigan, drop dead."

"Did yu hear that?!"

Malfoy sat up blearily, his school shirt from the night before still plastered to his chest. His book fell into his lap. To Draco's chagrin, after a while, waking up to people milling about became nearly normal. He looked at Seamus who was currently pointing wildly at him to a group of fourth years.

Draco groaned, and slid off the couch to get ready for Apparition, Seamus' voice still ringing in his ears. He had nothing against Irishmen, but did they have to scream so?

"Are you ready?" A voice called as he walked out from the boy's dormitory bathroom ten minutes later. He looked up to see Hermione standing by the fire, her wand out and flicking at his bed, cleaning it up.

"House- elves!" He grumbled loudly. Hermione ignored him as she munched on a piece of toast with jam. Draco's mouth watered.

"Good morning!" Hermione beamed at him, "How was the couch."

Same question every morning.

"Better if you were there with me."

Same answer.

Hermione's cheeks turned pink as Lavender Brown swiveled her head as she passed; apparently she had heard them.

While Hermione was distracted, Draco snaked a hand around her waist, pulling her close. Leaning down he bit a chunk out of the toast that was pinched between Hermione's fingers. She look at him as he licked strawberry jam off his lower lip.

"I haven't had breakfast!" He reasoned, running a hand through his white-blonde hair. Hermione huffed, smiling still.

As they walked down to the Great Hall, Hermione detached herself from Draco's side.

"I'm going to go see if I can find Harry and Ron; they left a little earlier then we did."

Draco nodded, someone pushing past him as Hermione left to bob through the crowd of students. Malfoy stifled a yawn, hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks. He glowered, tried to look menacing, force of habit.

"Draco…" A simpering voice wafted over the chatter from somewhere behind him.

Malfoy turned and saw Pansy stepping down the staircase into the Entrance Hall. Sneering, Draco turned away.

"Draco!" She said a little more forcefully, taking the final two steps in one awkward little hop.

"What do you want?"

The other students walked by as he and Pansy stood stalk still in the middle of the hallway. Malfoy noted how much more frail she looked from the last time he saw her- well, he'd seen her in classes, but not up close. He saw the way she kept looking over her shoulder.

"Checking for Blaise?"

He had meant it as a joke but Pansy looked terrified. She leaned in and went oddly quiet, whispering.

"He'll see me."

"Who?"

Pansy shuttered, her haunting gaze meeting his grey eyes. "It's not the same Draco; we're not the same."

With a sickening sensation, Malfoy realized he could see every single outline of her collarbone. He turned his head away and without looking at her, whispered. "What's going on Pansy?" As he spoke he was scanning the crowd for Blaise or any of the other Slytherins.

"It's all wrong." She said in a rush, a dry sob in her throat. Looking back at her, Malfoy remembered when she giggled sickeningly in class; he hadn't heard her laugh in a long while. "You were never evil Draco. You weren't mad."

Malfoy tried to catch her thin arm but she moved away from him, looking back over her shoulder.

"Why are you even speaking to me?"

Pansy gave a shuttering breath. "Because he's worse… he'll kill you."

"Who? Blaise?"

Pansy nodded once then shook her head vigorously, dissolving back into the crowd. Draco tried to follow her but a group of Ravenclaws stepped in his way. He wanted to call her name to stop her, to question her, but he didn't want to raise suspicion. The crowd thinned and she was gone.

Muttering, his heart thumping with adrenaline, he followed the sea of students into the Great Hall. To his dismay he saw that everyone was already spaced out. He looked around wildly and saw Crabbe standing in the back by himself, then he caught Hermione's gaze. She made a motion but he put a finger to his lips and as the final students situate themselves he found a space next to Crabbe.

"Vincent." He hissed. Crabbe stiffened but didn't turn round. "Hey!" Crabbe glanced over and grinned sickeningly.

"Haven't seen you around lately, Malfoy."

Draco ignored this.

"What's going on in Slytherin?"

Crabbe sniffed airily. "Don't you know? I mean, you sleep there, don't you?" Malfoy bit down on his tongue but the boy continued. "It's a new House, Malfoy, a new House. You've always talked but never acted on our Pureblood's defense; Zabini, he is a true prince of Slytherin."

"Pansy looks like she's dying or don't you care?" Malfoy murmured but Crabbe seemed unconcerned.

"She never eats, it's not our problem."

"Good morning," said the Ministry wizard, his voice airy, but Malfoy wasn't listening.

If Potter wants to go on wild goose chases then it's his problem…

"My name is Wilkie Twycross…" The man upfront continued.

A swell of anger bubbled within Malfoy's chest. Pansy never interested him, she was more a friend then anything: yes, annoying and full of blither, but a friend and a women. "Is Blaise hurting her?"

Crabbe shrugged.

"Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!" barked McGonagall.

Malfoy flushed a dull pink; he was furious as he stepped away from Crabb, the whispered argument over. He glanced at Snape, who also looked annoyed, then at Hermione, who was staring at him.

"Now that you are all spaced out nicely…" Hoops appeared in front of every student as the Ministry official waved his wand.

"I don't know what's going on, but I swear to god Crabbe I'll find out, all right?" Malfoy shot at him, oblivious to the man speaking. The boy opened his mouth but Draco cut him off. "I swear I'll figure it out."

"Yeah, like Goyle did, hmm?"

Malfoy spun around on the spot, his hand flying to his wand.

Blaise Zabini was standing directly behind him, arms folded, smirking smartly.

At that moment the four Heads of Houses shouted, "Quiet!" and Draco turned slowly to face the front again.

His hands were shaking.

.o.o.o.o.

Instead of keeping all to himself, Draco spilled everything he head heard with Pansy, Crabbe, and Blaise to Potter, the Weasel and Hermione over dinner. Harry promised to bring it up with Dumbledore, which he did, but the man again did not react.

The four were slightly stunned.

Slowly, over time, the number of Slytherin incidents dwindled and died and by the time February was coming to a close. The House seemed to be quieter then the Hufflepuffs. It was strange, they all ate in silence, were silent in class, and a few of the girls looked haggard. The boys, they looked fine, if not more impressive, especially Blaise. They would strut around with Zabini at the helm of their little group.

Twice did Draco try and corner Pansy, who was the thinnest and most placid looking Slytherin girl, to no success. Finally, he gave up.

February moved steadily towards March with no significant change in the weather, with exception to it becoming windy as well as wet. To general indignation a sign went up on all common room notice boards that the next trip to Hogsmead had been canceled.

Draco watched on his couch as Ron's calm demeanor deteriorated.

"It was on my birthday!" he said. "I was looking forward to that!"

"Not a big surprise." Harry said as he sat down by the fire and nursed a cup of cocoa. "Not after what happened to Katie." He glanced at Malfoy over the rim of the mug.

This same mood of constant containment lasted for the next two days, another Apparition lesson and Ron's birthday eclipsed in the constant feeling of being cooped up in Hogwarts. Although, Draco didn't know why the Weasel was complaining about his birthday, he got more gifts that Draco on his last birthday.

Malfoy even gave him a gift- it was snide- but a gift: a receipt for twenty dollars off any Weasley Wizard Wheezes product.

"Thanks Malfoy." Ron managed though gritted teeth. Draco grinned.

That night he and Hermione were sitting cozily by the fire, her doing school work and he reading Light to Dark: A Witch and Wizard's Guide to Shifting the Dark Arts into White Magic.

Out of curiosity, he had started on the chapter that dealt with Occlumency and Legilimency.

Occlumency:

"occlusum" - L. to block or close + "mens" - L. mind

To close your mind…. Clear your thoughts…

Draco already knew this, why he picked it first to read was beyond him. But then, at the bottom of the page he saw a reference to the Impirus Curse.

Counter This Curse

Similar to:

Imperius Curse

He flipped through the book.

Imperio (im-PAIR-ee-oh)

"impero" L. order, govern, command

One of the Unforgivable Curses, this spell causes the victim to be completely under the command of the caster, who can make the victim do anything the caster wishes. A victim of this spell is said to have been Imperiused.

It went on a little talking about the curse's history, then something caught Draco's eye.

To Turn It White:

The best way to resist this curse is to think of a subject/time/object (etc.) that not only clears one's mind and makes one calm, but also provides a good solid basis for complete thought and logic. Something familiar.

Malfoy grimaced; it was like Greek.

He glanced at Hermione who was sitting across from him and grinned.

…clears one's mind…something familiar…

He thought of her against a wall, her hair plastered against her neck with sweat, eyes closed. Draco could feel her breath on his neck and her hand fluttering against his arm. Her chest rose and fell against his. He felt her hip against his, his knee on the inside of her bare thigh.

Hermione sneezed and Draco promptly dropped the book he was holding. She looked up and Malfoy knew his face was flushed crimson. The book snapped magically shut. He leaned down to get it, his eyes still on Hermione.

She looked so innocent, eyes blinking, searching his. Momentarily Malfoy felt a bit dizzy.

"Hey!" Someone yelled, and the two looked up to see Ginny. "Ron's been poisoned!"

"What?" Draco and Hermione said at the same time.

"He's in the Hospital Wing!"

.o.o.o.o.

"So, all in all, not one of Ron's better birthdays?" Fred questioned. Malfoy snickered and George glanced at him approvingly.

Malfoy tuned out while the twins explained their recent Hogsmead trip and how they had heard about their brother. He glanced at Harry who was sitting by the Weasel's bed. Draco moved over to him.

"How exactly did it happen, Potter?"

The boy retold the story about Slughorn and his office.

"So the poison was in the drink?" Hermione asked fearfully as she looked over Draco's shoulder. Harry nodded.

Draco snorted. "Slughorn wouldn't want to poison R- Merlin!" Everyone looked at him. "Who was the bottle originally for? Come on Potter, you're brighter then this."

Harry looked alarmed. "He said it was for Dumbledore." Draco nodded.

"That's right! Ten to one that's the target! Ten to one I get another letter tomorrow morning!"

The twins looked oblivious but Ginny coughed. "Would Slughorn want to poison Dumbledore? I thought 'Draco' was doing You-Know-Who's job."

Hermione patted Draco's hand. "I bet Slughorn didn't even know about it." Harry got up from his chair.

"You see to Ron, I'm going to the Headmaster."

The twins, Ginny, Draco, and Hermione watched him sprint out the Infirmary door.

The next morning a strange Owl dropped a letter onto Malfoy's thankfully empty plate. Harry wasn't down for breakfast, Ron was still bedridden, but Hermione and Ginny were there; Draco was grateful for this or else he would have gone on a mad rampage at the sight of his father's script again.

Hermione looked at him, scared.

Draco didn't even read the letter, just scanned it.

Disappointed… something more drastic…out of your hands if you don't… Dark Lord… your mother and I… my honor…failure!

At the bottom, under his father's hurried signature was a post script.

Owl me your next plans and I will try to help you.

Grabbing a quill out of his bag Draco tore off a piece of parchment and scribbled back.

It's not me! Stop Owling! I don't know what you're talking about!

As the Owl flew off, Draco's letter around its ankle, Malfoy stole a glance at the Headmaster who was sipping curtly on his morning drink. Beside him Snape got up and excused himself.

He locked eyes with Draco, who turned away.

This chapter gave me the most trouble I have EVER had writing this fic or its predecessor; it was horrible and I vehemently hated pages one through three.

I know I shouldn't give excuses but on top of hating it I had a lot to do.

Blaise is not physically hurting Pansy or any of the women; Draco just thought it was possible. I don't think you could call what Blaise is doing to any of the Slytherins 'physical'.

Thanks to Harry Potter Lexicon for the spell stuff!!

Onto chapter 12 (the exciting one)

Review please!