"CRAVITY"-
The coral and seashells painting slide automatically to reveal the entrance of the Prefect's Bath.

Though nowhere comparable to his bath chamber at manor, it was certainly better than the drain in the dungeons he was bathing in for the first 3 years simply due to lack of access. In the 4th year he had managed to obtain the password of Prefect's bath from 'Ariesa Montoya"- a prefect and year senior to Draco. There were a couple of prefect bathrooms in the castle but this was closest to the dungeons and according to Ariesa the best of them all. But Draco knew for a fact that the Prefect bath facility at 5th floor was more sophisticated, had better bathing salts, ornate marble basin and showers and beautiful views. But this one would suffice for now, it had a proper medium length, pool 11*11 dimensions and had a better assortment of bubbles.

Sealing the entrance behind him, he shed his clothes. Passing a full length mirror, he stopped for a second to admire his own reflection. What he saw pleased him well. His upper torso had gained muscles due to his Quidditch training program. He was a bit too lean for his liking and sometimes he wished for a bit of width, not that his frame ever disappointed him. 'Johnny Anderson' - his quidditch coach had assured him that as soon as he reached his maximum height they could start working on his width and muscle work. His father wasn't typically lean so he knew he will gain broadness of physique some later point in life.

The cold air brushed his body and bought shivers all over his back. He quickly stepped down into the pool and opened all his favourite taps. The hot water against his body felt soothingly good. He closed his eyes and threw back his head to rest on the edge.

Flashes of this evening's matinee ran through his mind. Hissing under his breath, he jerked himself straight and submerged his body completely into the water with the intent to get the experience out of his head. He pushed his body forward and swam over to the other side of the pool and didn't surface until a full minute. When his lungs could not stand any longer to be deprived of air he came up with a splash and gasped, not due to the lack of breath but due to his own treacherous emotions and actions of the evening.

'How could I? Why did I touch her? Her of all the women in the world? He began to scrub himself furiously as if he was washing the sins of yester-moments, but his abstraction caused him to scratch his arm and once he inspected the cut- it made a thin line of shiny red blood waiting to spill from a deep spot.

"Why waste my pure-blood" he thought wryly, as he gave up on the harsh scrubbing.

Still his mind was whirring louder han his broomstick. He couldn't justify his actions to himself, how would he even began to explain if the word leaked around to his housemates or his father. He stiffened at the thought.

'Be reasonable', he said to himself. Granger would not talk. She would have a difficult time explaining herself if she does. The thought bought a little comfort but he was all nerves at the moment and was finding it inexplicably difficult to focus or function in usual manner. In frustration he further washed himself.

It was late and dark after Draco was finished with bath. Dressed up, made his way back to Slytherin common room, deciding he didn't want dinner. Besides he wasn't sure if his stomach could hold any food. As it is he could not stand to be around people tonight. There were many convoluted emotions and he didn't want to waste his vibe around foolish, half-minded and idiotic Hogwarts students or humiliate himself by doing something un-Malfoy-like.

He had missed his Prefect patrols but he knew we wouldn't be in soup. The Headboy- 'Aldwin Corbyn' was a family friend.

Still deep in his serpentine thoughts he reached the dungeons. The common room was half-full of fellow Slytherins who were done for the day. Many seemed relaxed because of the weekend. A few of them were bent over their homework- the studious intelligent ones who utilised weekend for homework and planned their study schedule 4 weeks in advance. In another corner a group of affluent 4th years were playing 'LUXOR' - an improvised version of card game Bridge in which the person who lost the deal hardest had to fulfil a bizzare challenge that was decided by the winner. He smirked in disdain as he passed them. He bumped into his classmates who bombarded him with questions about his absence from dinner. He evaded them all citing a made up reason about some meeting with new DADA Professor Umbridge.

"But Umbridge was at the dinner Drake" pursued Pansy

"I don't think she was, Pansy", Draco fibbed smoothly but there was a finality in his voice that Pansy had come instinctively to recognise.

"Yes Draco, you can't be wrong", Pansy tittered coyly as she came up on him. Putting her hand on his chest she asked "So what do you want to do now, angel"

"Sleep! I am a little tired. See you tomorrow" he spoke in a fend off manner. He took her hand in his, patiently removing it from his front, before parting he gave her a pleasant smile that she heartily returned but he had caught the look of dissapointment on her face that came with his slight.

He didn't feel like regret, he knew he should have treated her with better chivalry but his nerves were taut and if he stayed to listen to Pansy's prattle they would turn frigid as Snape's facial muscles.

Further ahead, in the middle of the room 'Emilio Bastion'- a 7th year was showing off his wandwork. Bastion who had flunked 6 out of 10 OWLs he sat for had yet managed to conjure a pair of snakes and using his wand he was making them mate in the most hideous manner. Half of serpent's body was atop in the air and the snakes were coiling together. Emilio's lackeys were huddled around in chairs and roaring with boisterous laughter as he made the serpents do grotesque antics. Draco saw it with great distaste, the sight churned his stomach. He found all kinds of reptiles to be slimy and repulsive- a fact he didn't dare mention to anyone. 'Jerks' he thought to himself.

"Alright there Bastion! Grooming self for the circus?" Draco remarked snidely.

Bastion's face looked as if vomit had got stuck in his throat. He wanted to retort savagely with a vicious comeback but he knew well that Malfoy had a reputation and people didn't dare mess with him. Not even those who were heavier, more muscular and senior in years. His father wielded power outside Hogwarts and inside the house of Slytherin and the fact that Snape was overprotective of him and that he was the favourite prefect of the Headboy- a fellow Slytherin made Malfoy even more formidable this year.

"Whatever Malfoy", spat Bastion knowing it was the best he could say at the moment. Draco sniggered at this response and said "you sound a lot like an irate girl. But if you were any man than you would be doing something else". Draco sauntered off smugly to the direction of his dormitory leaving a thunderous look on the faces of Bastion and his 'minions'. He loved to provoke people and reduce them to a state of helpless infuriation.

His dormitory(same since 1st year) was large and wide and offered the view of the grand lake through its glass windows on one side and had Frescos of famous Slytherin personalities on its opposite walls. The beds were wide and spaced at a great distance from each other. Initially Draco had taken up the centre-most bed but now he preferred a little bit of privacy so he had casted privacy charms all around his bed whenever he wanted to be alone with himself. He had also modifed it to make it a bit lofty and luxurious like his own bed back at home. His mother had taught him some useful spells that made this square of rock a bit bearable.

He dug out his Nimbus 2001 and set it aside on his bed. He took out his expensive 'on air' apparel from his Oakwood closet; Narcissa had magically shrinked one and sent to him from home which he had restored to its normal size to contain his stylish expensive apparel. He didn't keep his exorbitant ensemble huddled in a trunk. Malfoys knew how to take care of their possessions. He changed into his robes and draping his invisblity cloak around himself he snuck out of the dormitory. He was careful to avoid people on his way out of the common room.

He made his way towards the secret exit (that led to stadium grounds) that his seniors had told him about. Only Slytherins were privy to the whereabouts of the exit including Professor Shape and they were protective of the secret. He unsealed it and after climbing out sealed it back. He badly needed a quick flying session to calm his volatile self. Snogging Granger had been bad enough but he had actually enjoyed it and had even wanted more afterwards. The mere memory of it made him rue. What was he thinking? Or was he thinking at all?

He didn't knew how to handle these capricious emotions. Malfoys were supposed to be in control always but how could he have let this happen? How could he even kiss her? She was a dirty and stinky mudblood. Way beneath his status- at par with his house-elf in status. You don't kiss your house-elf than why in blazes had he snogged her. Only being a Malfoy stopped him from covering his face in shame.

A thought parallel came unbidden, she didn't smell bad when he was feeling her up, In fact she smelled good, of musk and floral fragrance. It was lavenderish with hints of Vanilla, he had subconsciously wondered what perfume she had worn. Also she didn't seem dirty or grimy when he had opened her blouse to fondle her. Her skin was a delicious shade of cream and peache and it had invited him to explore that unchartered territory. Thinking of it he got goosebumps on his arms and back.

AAAARRRRGHHHH! He snarled loudly causing Robins in the nearby trees to take flight.

His need for adrealine intensified, he removed his invisiblity cloak and stoved it inside his front. Mounting his broom, he kicked his feet off the ground in the air. He knew remoter parts of castle and grounds well and took caution in his clandestine adventures. Also he wasn't suicidal to venture towards the forest. The wind hit him on the face and he felt a little better. He accelerated on an uphill trajectory and the wind was now whistling in his ears. The adrenaline was spreading into his mind, he felt free, when he had gathered enough speed he decided to wheel vertically at 90 degree defying all gravity and physics. Not that he would have understood physics as physics didn't apply to wizarding magic. 'AIR WHEELY' was the name of the feat.

He accelerated harder bringing blood to his brains. The feeling was unparallel and gave him such a high. He had started learning this technique back in the summer of 4th year and had mastered it only this year. It was highly dangerous and not all players could effectively do it. Even slightest of negligence caused grevious accidents. The fact that Potter didn't knew this feat gave him a lot of satisfaction. He wanted nothing more than to rub it on his face at the Quidditch matches but he knew he couldn't do that. Air wheely was so dangerous that it was in the list of banned acts of Hogwarts Quidditch. Such was the danger that only highly professional players training for the national and international teams dared to attempt to learn it. It was strictly forbidden in Hogwarts school teams. But that was the fun of it. Draco smirked as he thought. He felt a thrill in forbidden things, a sweet crazy madness that made his blood roar in the veins. He had indulged in a forbidden diallance this evening and the thought made him jerk and loose control over his broomstick.

Thankfully he had quick reflexes and he immediatly brought his broom back to control. But his mind couldn't stay calm so he slowly changed his position to horiziontal. He decelarated firmly and came to a halt in mid air. He needed some quiet of mind before he resumed flying again. He didn't trust himself to wheel at the moment.

DAMN YOU Granger! He swore aloud in resentment.

He distracted himself with other thoughts. His quick reflexes along with his prodigious flying talent had been the reason Lucius had decided to get a Quidditch coach for him. His father had paid an extravagant price for the American Quidditch coach- 'Johnny Anderson' to coach Draco for 3 months every year. Lucius had a part of his estate lawn transformed into a Quidditch Pitch for his son's practice purposes. Narcissa had protested in chagrin when she learnt about the treacherous nature of techniques that Draco would undergo. To keep her assured Lucìus had taken extra precautions all along the pitch that ensured his son's safety. A healer who specialised in Quidditch injuries was present for entire duration of the practice, alongwith Lucius's henchmen who were experienced to control any situation that might slip. Draco's flying efficacy however, made their presence superfluous.

Narcissa was greatly pacified when the pitch ground was cushioned magically so that Draco would never have a serious injury if he fell off the broom but Lucius hadn't revealed this to his son, lest it would make him complacent. Alongwith his wife, he personally oversaw most of the training and after two months of it, his chest swelled with pride at Draco's excellence in one thing after the other. Even Narcissa was highly pleased with the development.

After the end of Draco's training, Lucius threw a massive celebration in the former's honour. He invited almost all men of standing and decent blood, treated them to best drinks, piquant and rich food and luxurious hospitality. He lofitly brought up Draco's talent and skills amongst his peers. However only selected people knew about the extra-curricular training that his son underwent for two summers.

Lucius would always maintain a mystery about the family and only revealed to others what he wanted to reveal. He called it PR and it came naturally to him. Draco was offered wine that night by his father. His first drink like a man.

Draco had felt all smug at the moment but later that night Lucius told him that this year he wanted Draco to defeat Harry Potter and win the House Cup for Slytherin. The superiority vanished from his face at the thought of Potter. Bitter memories of match flooded his mind. He himself wanted to defeat Potter badly and was training for it harder than ever.

"Father, Potter mostly wins because of his good luck, he's barely extraordinary"- Lucius cut him off and said

"Now Draco! Don't lament like a child about Potter's triumph".

"Luck can only take you so far. I have seen him in action. Potter flies good and is instinctive on pitch. I want you to fly better than him".

"Yes Father". Draco shook hands with Lucius before retreating to his bedroom.

He had lost his sleep after this exchange and in the morning he slept-in. Thankfully Lucius let him be and didn't send the house-elf to wake him up. When he descended later, his breakfast and tea was served to him. His parents were already finished with breakfast and his father was in the Manor library. But his mother sat along with him. She fondly looked up to him and kissed him on forehead saying that he was a jewel. More precious than her diamonds and emeralds! His heart had warmed at this and he felt a little of content.

With the distant catcall and animal howls, Draco came back to the moment. Deciding he had enough of On-air exercise, he smoothly descended and draping over his invisibility cloak he quietly went back towards the secret entrance of the castle. He hoped for sleep to come easily to him that night.