Transcending the Bullshit, Chapter 9
By Goddess JacquesPierre
Disclaimer: Ack. I can wish all day that I owned them, but, then again, I could wish I had seventeen more reviews by tomorrow. Neither is very probable at this stage of the game (and everything is a game in my eyes). Also, I in no way endorse drugs in any way, shape, or form, etc, etc, blah, blah, I'm gonna quote Eminem now. "I just said it; I didn't know if you'd do it or not." It's your choice, not mine. Remember that.
Rating: R
Warnings: Frequent shift of format, possibly shifiting POV, slash, angst, masochism, now durg use/abuse, I s'pose. Did I leave out language? There's a lot of it, cause it's a text document.
"If you're ever caught in a bad situation, you'd better hope that whoever has you there is truly evil. The evil person will play with you, giving you time to escape, while the normal person will just kill you straight away."
-Unknown
***
It was not a good day. Five out of the seven Hufflepuff first-years were found unconcious in thier beds. The remaining two were bearers of a scrap of parchment: "You will all die."
It was almost as if they were being played with.
***
Harry was poking his scrambled eggs with a fork when Draco entered the dining hall.
"Harry." He rushed over and snuggled into Harry's side, but Harry ignored him. "Harry!"
Harry pushed his plate away and laid down his fork with a clatter. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise. What's on your mind?"
"Those Hufflepuffs."
"There was nothing you can do."
"They shouldn't have to deal with death that young."
"It's a biological fact."
Harry stood up abruptly, forcing Draco to catch himself on the edge of the table.
"What the--" the blonde snapped.
"Come with?"
"I'm NOT going to hang round your dorm, there are *Weasleys* there. We don't need Ginny sighing over you."
"Yours, then?"
"Certainly."
***
Ron had finally caught Hermione. Getting her to talk, however, was somewhat harder. She had, quite obviously, purposely immersed herself in a thick book the moment Ron sat down next to her.
After some time, she finally exploded. "Ron, I just don't want to talk about it!"
"But... you promised..."
"I said I'd talk to you later. I meant later. Now, leave me alone."
Hurt, Ron exited Stage Right, up the stairs, and into the boy's dorm.
***
Draco flopped onto the couch and motioned Harry to join him. Harry, however, had noticed an open envelope of a pinkish-purplish glittering powder on a table.
He lifted it gently. "What is it?"
"Pixie," Draco replied offhandedly.
" 'Pixie'?"
"Wizarding drug."
"Drug?"
"Hallucinogen."
Harry blinked. "Like LSD?"
"Only a whole lot better."
"Draco!"
"What?" He reclined back lazily. "It's safe as anything gets."
"You shouldn't be doing drugs anyway!"
"It's only the muggle ones that are wooly. It's much easier to get them perfect with the right charm."
"That's not what I meant."
"What, then, Mr. Potter, did you mean?"
"They mess with your head! You're not you while you're on them! Gods, I was kidding yesterday when I suggested you were high."
"Try it."
"What are you, nuts?"
"No, I mean it. Try it!"
"No way!"
"Why not?"
"That's just... I want to keep my head, is all. As a matter of fact-- incendio!"
The envelope burst into flames.
Draco blinked lazily. Potter would just have to be educated about this sort of thing, he thought. "Fine, then," he said. "I'm not on anything today."
As Harry curled up next to him, he muttered softly, "You'd better not be."
***
Ron fell asleep late that night after tossing for an hour and a half. Growing up. Why was his best friend changing all of a sudden?
***
Harry had been asleep, too, when a cold hand came to rest on his inner thigh. His eyes flew open. "Draco?"
The blonde gave a Cheshire-cat smile. "Mmmm?"
"Not tonight."
"Harry, I won't wait much longer. We're spending ages together, but I have hormones, too."
"Something I learned in Muggle school: Just say no."
"I've learned something about school in general: never trust anything they tell you."
"Sometimes they're right."
"Harry, they teach that the world is round."
"Isn't it?"
"Of course not. It's full of bumps. What do you think mountains are?"
"Everyone knows--"
"They also tell you what to do. Abstinance-- what did it ever do for anyone?"
"It probably saved lives. Thing of all the straight-edge kids who didn't OD on heroin!"
"Yeah, the same kids who killed themselves because they were teased for that very reason?"
"I'm sure they didn't."
"Harry, you're so naive. In this world, there are sweet innocents, and then there is what might be termed the 'underworld' where everyone else operates. It's the world of secret anarchists, people who realise the government just isn't doing it, and... everyone else worth knowing, myself included. Government-- especially the government of those damn Americans." [A/N I am American. I mean no offence to the rest of us, it's just... man, our government is fucked up].
"That sounds terrible. Prejudice and all."
"It's the government. Here--" Draco handed Harry a tattered book from the bedside table, "When you get a chance, read this."
Harry lifted his wand. "Lumos." The book: Abbie Hoffman's 'Steal This Book'. "Tattered? Why, Mr. Malfoy, I was unaware you kept anything less than pristine for more than thirty seconds!"
"That book is the Bible. Don't tease me, Potter, if you know what's best for you-- or rather, your outdated ideals."
Harry flicked his wand off. "You're quite a character."
"I know."
Harry chuckled. "I don't think that was quite a compliment."
"Trust me, it was."
"Whatever. May I go back to sleep?"
"If you really want to. It's vacation, I can think of better ways to spend our night."
"No, Draco."
"Fine. Sleep. See what I care."
"Will you promise you won't try anything?"
"What it the promise of a Malfoy worth to Saint Potter?"
"Plenty; if you do, I at least can bother you about it."
"Whatever you say."
"Promise."
"I make no promises."
"But--"
"Harry, if you're going to be lying right there, all innocent, do you really expect me to sleep less than two inches away and keep my hands to myself?"
"Yes."
"You're going to be severely disappointed."
"I sincerely hope I won't be."
"No, you don't."
"Yes I do!"
"I'm not going to argue with you, Potter. You want it as much as I do."
"Maybe so, but I won't give in so readily."
"I'm leaving."
"This isn't the only couch. It's not my fault you fell asleep on me."
"You could have moved me."
"I didn't want to disturb you."
"Hmph." Draco stood lithely, stretched, and turned away from Harry. "Sure you don't want me?"
Harry felt a momentary stirring in his loins at Draco's figure, palely illuminated by the moon, but swallowed the urge to act on it. Gulping, he shook his head. "Quite sure, thank you."
"As you wish. I'll go to sleep, too, in that case."
"Night." Harry curled up and drifted off.
Draco spoke to the sleeping boy. "Night, yourself." It was some time before he actually slept.
***
At about ten o'clock the following morning, Harry left Draco asleep on the couch and went to the Gryffindor dorm for a change of clothes. Heaven knows, he needed it.
He was rummaging through his trunk when he noticed Ron, breathing only shallowly on the bed next to his. He dropped the clean robe and laid his hand over Ron's forehead. Hot and clammy. A piece of torn parchment was pinned to the canopy upon closer inspection: 'We are here. Dumbledore may be great, but we are greater. You will all die.'
It was like a cat with a mouse-- a bit of sport before the killing. Harry felt nauseous. He got Madame Pomfrey immediately, who, upon seeing Ron, promptly ignored Harry and rushed the redhead off to the Hospital Wing.
[A/N] Who has seen the second movie? My, but... Lucius struck me. He's incredibly visually attractive, or at least I think so. None of my friends will agree with me, but, then again, they tend not to anyway.
Transcending the Bullshit, chapter 10
By Goddess JacquesPierre
Disclaimer: Um... hey, I haven't been sued yet! Let's keep it that way! Remember, BORROWED plaything! *nod**nod**nod* *perky wave*
Rating: R
Warnings: Frequent shift of format, possibly shifiting POV, slash, angst, masochism, now drug use/abuse, I s'pose. Did I leave out language? There's a lot of it, cause it's a text document.
***
"Did you do this, Mr. Potter? There have been quite a few suspicious injuries recently." Madame Pomfrey peered over the top of her glasses suspiciously after tending Ron.
"No, Madame!"
She sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, it's just... those first years weren't dead, thank Heaven, but four of them are still in critical condition. They will recover, but slowly. It's unnerving-- it would have been so easy to just outright kill them. It wasn't an accident. And now-- I think that your friend will get better eventually."
"Well, isn't that good?"
"Mr. Potter, I usually know that people are going to get better in this hospital wing. I've owled St. Mungo's, I don't know what else to do. Your friend is in worse condition than those first-years."
At that point, Hermione burst in the door. "Harry! Ron--"
Harry motioned her over. "It's bad."
She chose not to ask; she didn't want to know.
Madame shook her head. "Go on ahead, try to enjoy your vacation. I don't have anything else to tell you."
Hermione nodded slowly. "I'm going to the library, then," she said.
"Alright, then," Harry said with a resigned tone. "I guess I'll go find Draco."
He trudged out of the hospital wing when he was stopped by Hermione. "Find Draco?"
He turned towards her and blinked twice. "I thought you were going to the library."
"Harry, what has been going on?"
"Does it matter?"
"I thought I was your friend!"
Harry looked down. "I'm sorry."
"Friends are supposed to care. That's what friends are for."
A tear fromed in Harry's eye. "Yeah, Hermione. You're right. I guess I haven't been a very good friend recently."
"You've got a lot on your mind. You-know-who's not even waiting for the end of the term to try for you this time."
"That's no excuse."
"C'mon-- we could talk about S.P.E.W?"
"Hermione--" Harry grinned in spite of himself. "Somehow, this isn't the time for that. Could you just give this spew nonsense up?"
"Could you tell me what's going on between you and Malfoy?" Hermione countered.
"Draco," Harry corrected pesively. "It's just-- I went and saved his life because he was out in the snow, and it was cold, and he was bleeding and unconcious--"
"Bleeding?"
"He'd cut his wrists-- at the time I didn't know it was him. Draco didn't seem like the type for suicide-- he still doesn't-- but I saw the blood and the snow and bare feet and--"
Hermione nodded. "So you took him to the Prefect's bathroom to clean him up?"
"It was closer!" Harry protested weakly. "Besides... I wasn't thinking clearly. I just saw this beautiful boy, and he needed help."
"So you rush in and ditch off his clothes as soon as you can?"
"Herm! It's not like I had a choice! I don't think, somehow, that suicide or saving someone from themselves would amuse McGonagall! I don't want to get busted for saving his life. He would've died, and I needed to make sure that he hadn't done anything else."
"And you left them in the bathroom?"
"I was tired."
"Hmmph. For your information, Harry, your robes can be traced. That's how I found out you'd been doing things afterhours with a bloody Malfoy."
"Draco, Hermione. Do you know why he's so bitter?"
She frowned. "He'd better have a good reason if you're going to like him."
"He was muggle-born-- adopted."
"Why-- oh." Hermione understood. "He was a vent for his adoptive parent's anti-muggle feelings?"
"A toy."
Hermione winced. "So it was a defense mechanism? Be hateful so that it won't hurt so much when your parents are hateful to you?"
Harry nodded. "It's a lot easier to like him when you know that. Also-- he broke it."
"What do you mean?"
"He broke the bitterness. That's when he decided to kill himself-- when he decided that he wasn't going to put up with his parent's crap anymore." As an afterthought, he added: "And decided that he was sick of hiding the fact that he's bi."
"So?"
"Living with his parents and out is suicide, Hermione. His father's a Death Eater."
Hermione shuddered. "Don't mention it. So, you two are together?"
"What do you mean, 'together'?"
"You know, like boyfriends?"
"Ummm..."
Hermione's eyes lit up. "You are!" She hugged him forcefully. "I KNEW it!"
"What?"
"Well... it was obvious something was going on. I mean, you asked about him after he disappeared, like you cared but weren't ready to let us know."
"Hermione!"
She pressed on. "Just like Cho, back in fourth year!"
Harry groaned. "You knew?"
"Harry, it was hard to miss if you knew what you were looking for."
"And I suppose you knew."
"Of course, Harry-- I'm the 'insufferable know-it-all', remember?"
"That was terrible, Hermione. Snape shouldn't've said that; don't remind me." [A/N-- if anyone is as much of an obsessed HP nut as I am and can tell me what that referred to, they get the next chapter dedicated to them as they deserve it and ought to be writing fanfiction of their own].
"Still-- I'm happy for you."
"Why? It's Draco we're talking about-- the same one who's been insulting you for God knows how long."
"I don't think he was insulting me."
"Eh?"
"Welll... you can look at it two ways. Either he was really insulting his parent's upbringing, or..."
"Or what?"
"Or he was trying to get a rise out of you."
"What?"
"It doesn't make sense for him to hate you-- he has no reason to."
"That day on the train, I refused his friendship..."
"I know."
"You weren't there!"
"Ron told me. Anyway... he was attracted to you! He wanted to be your friend, just went about trying to get your friendship the wrong way. He didn't know better, you've said as much yourself. And ever since, everything you've said and done has been tainted by a bad first impression. You've gotten a new first impression, is all, and now you can see each other clearly. It'll take Ron and me a bit to get used to it, but I'm still happy for you."
'Wow, Herm, you've pieced together everything in fifteen minutes that took the two of us two weeks to figure out."
"Thanks." She turned to go, and called over her shoulder as she ran off: "The library calls!"
Harry walked off towards that Slytherin dorm pensively.
***
Harry gave the stone the password absently, and it opened silently for him. He walked into the sea of Slytherin green and silver to see Draco stirring something in a caulron in the middle of the room.
"What're you doing, Drac?" he asked.
Draco jumped, and with a flick of his wand, the cauldron vanished. "Shit! I thought you weren't coming back."
"Why not?"
"News flys in a small castle, Potter. I heard about Weasley."
"He wasn't in much condition to talk."
"Yeah, but don't you Gryffindors sit by the side of your invalid friends or something?"
Harry laughed. "Only sometimes."
"Didn't you sit by my side?"
"It was sleep, plus, you're different."
"Oh, am I?"
"You're incredibly hot. It's not like watching someone you like sleep, it's like watching a model or something."
"Harry, you're a character."
"That's funny, I remember using the same term with you last night."
"Yes, I do too. So we're both characters. Makes for a storybook relationship."
"Draaaaaaa-co!"
"What, love?"
"You're flirting."
"So I am. Does it matter?"
"Yes, I want an answer. What were you doing?"
Draco coloured slightly. "Does that matter?"
"Well... it would matter more if the question was 'WHO were you doing', but somehow I don't think that's likely."
"Who is there, besides you? Snape?"
"I dunno, you and Snape seem pretty cozy in Potions, sometimes."
"I am NOT going to shag the Potions master! Good god, Harry, he OLD!"
"Alright, but seriously, what were you doing?"
"Nothing."
"You were doing something."
"It's not important, okay?"
"You weren't doing anything with that drug, were you?"
"No... you haven't read the book yet, have you."
"Not yet. I will as soon as I have a moment."
"What are you doing right now?"
"Talking to you?"
"Do you have a moment?"
"Sure..."
"Come on, then." Draco grabbed Harry's wrist. "You can read it now. You left it here." He snatched the book and began to pull Harry off.
"Where are you taking me?" Harry asked, offering a good deal of resistance.
"Just to my dorm, I'm sick of couches."
"You'd better not try anything."
"Harry, if I was going to try anything against your will, I would have done so already."
"Oh, would you have?" Harry asked.
"It would be simple." Draco slipped the book into his pocket, produced his wand, and mumbled something. Harry found himself entwined in cords made of surprisingly strong, pink spun sugar. He gave Draco a dirty look.
"Point taken."
"Well, then, let's go." Draco waved his wand lightly, the sugar disappeared, and he led Harry off to his room uncontested.
Harry flipped open the cover and skimmed the first few lines. "Draco! This guy was in prison???"
"Yeah, so? Muggle prison is way different than Azkaban."
"Okaaaay..." Harry continued reading quietly. He decided not to ask until dinner, when he'd've finished.
When Harry was sufficiently engrossed, Draco slipped away, brought back the cauldron, and finished what he was doing.
***
Harry decided that there was a lot in this book that he'd need to discuss with Draco.
***
At dinner that night, halfway through the meal, Harry started feeling distinctly funny. He looked at his cup of half-finished pumkin juice, then at Draco, who was smiling rather less than innocently. "Draco, what did you do?"
"You'll see. I promise, no drugs yet."
Transcending the Bullshit, chapter 11
By Goddess JacquesPierre
Disclaimer: *sigh* Not mine...poor author... borrowing characters... anyways, I'm not making money off of this one (or even trying), so don't sue me (or even try to).
Rating: R
Warnings: Frequent shift of format, possibly shifiting POV, slash, angst, masochism, now drug use/abuse, I s'pose. Did I leave out language? There's a lot of it, cause it's a text document.
A thank-you for all the reviews; I feed them to my muse who helps me write these chapters, however long they may be in coming (hint: It's hard to write with a hungry muse).
To Lyra and Darkraven, for making me feel like I'm not the only one who memorises these books to an extreme-- thirty times each. What can I say-- they're good rainy-day or cold-weather reading.
***
Harry followed Draco up to the Slytherin dorm rather reluctantly, not trusting whatever the blonde had done in the slightest and pestering to tell him what it was constantly.
Draco, for his part, came up with multiple empty reassurances. His latest: "Don't worry, Harry, it's only a simple potion."
"And what's it going to do to me?"
"Nothing harmful."
"You didn't mess up?"
"I'm better at potions than Snape, Harry."
"Well, you're modest."
"I'm a Malfoy, well, an adoptive one. We don't know the meaning of the word."
"You're not Malfoy. You're Draco."
"I never learned it."
"Okay, but--"
"I'm not telling you, Potter. It's going to be a surprise, and a pleasant one."
"Why do you still use my last name as a term of direct address, anyway?"
"You haven't got anything bad associated with it. Your last name is as much a part of you as your first. Mine isn't."
Harry nodded slowly. "I see. Draco, please--"
"No, Harry." Finality rang through the words, and Draco turned to the stretch of wall leading to Slytherin. He spoke the password authoritively and pulled Harry inside. "Can you leave off the questions? Tomorrow, everyone comes back. This is our last night alone."
Harry gaped. "Really?"
"Yes. Now..." He walked toward the dorm room, and Harry, in a state of mild shock, followed.
It wasn't until they were both sprawled into Draco's four-poster that he came to. "What are you--"
"Quiet."
"No." Harry rolled over to look at the other boy square in the eyes. "Will you tell me just what is going on? Or I'm going to leave."
"Wellll..." Draco checked his watch. "Since, at this point, there is no turning back..." Harry goggled at his boyfriend, silently cursing whatever had gotten him into this postion. "I slipped something into your drink."
"That much I could guess."
"Harry... I can't tell you anything else with words."
"Huh?"
"Really intellegent one we have here-- no, Harry, our relationship has gone past that point. You know everything about me-- or enough that if I tell you anything else, it'll upset all the little quirks that'll pop up at odd times and send us both into laughter. And-- you're just nervous."
"Damn straight!"
"I most certainly am not."
"I mean, I'm nervous. Sure, I'm nervous. Of course I'm nervous. Why wouldn't I be nervous?"
"You're babbling, too. Ssshh." He covered Harry's mouth gently. "My point is, it's not even a moral reason we're not shagging. Bloody hell, Harry, we're teenage boys. There IS no such thing as inhibition. You're just scared you're going to mess something up."
"Well..." Harry blushed.
"Anyway, it was a simple potion to relieve anxiety and that sort of thing. I thought it would be nice to have a night together, properly together, before we have to seperate."
"But--"
"No buts, love."
"They put Muggles in jail for this sort of thing!"
"It's not rape if both people want it."
"And if the person only wants it because they've been drugged, then it's still rape!"
"Harry, you want it. You just can't admit it to yourself." The words rang true, Harry conceded, but that didn't mean anything.
Draco kissed him.
That meant something, though he wasn't quite sure what.
***
Back in Gryffindor Tower, Professor McGonagall was pacing in the middle of the common room. Both of the Weasley twins were white-faced and stuttering, while their sister was barely breathing and unconscious in the center of a red throw rug.
"It was terrible, Professor," Fred remarked gravely and breathlessly. "There was nothing we could do..."
***
It was a bit later, not long, but enough, when Harry spoke. "Draco-- do you think--"
"Not now, love."
"Seriously-- is this going to be secret when everyone comes back?"
"Of course! Anything else would be suicide."
"But Drac--ohhh... that feels nice..."
***
It was later on that morning that the two boys rested.
"Have fun, Potter?"
Harry grinned, breathless, as the pale rays of morning light broke upon his face. "Yeah, I don't know why we hadn't..."
"See? I was right." Draco gave his boyfriend a self-satisfied smirk.
Harry sighed. "Yes, you were very right." He stood up, streched, and shook out his robes from the previous night before putting them on. "I'm going to go see Ron."
"What? So soon?"
"You said it yourself, Draco, to be seen together is suicide, and I want a chance to settle into my dorm again. If the bed's made when everyone else gets here, they're going to ask questions. The house-elves aren't THAT efficient, and I usually sleep late."
"Fine. Go. See what I care." Draco turned away, not used to rebuttals or being denied anything.
"Draco--" With that, Harry caught the blonde in a rather intense hug (with purposes of startling him. It worked). After a moment, he released it. "But that's going to have to last, love. Owl me sometime if you can figure out a way to keep this safe and secret." And then he was gone, leaving Draco stunned in his wake.
***
Harry ran through the halls to the Hospital Wing, and burst in as quietly as he could manage.
Madame Pomfrey and a team of strange wizards were making rounds of the beds. Ron was up on his elbows, weakly, and staring at a bed across the room. He appeared to be mumbling something.
Harry walked over silently to listen to his friend.
"Ginny... not you again... why are you always the hardest hit..."
"Ron!" Harry whispered. "You're okay?"
The redhead looked over. "Sort of..."
"Will you be okay?"
Ron nodded. "I hope so..." His voice was thin and scratchy, like a number of dried reeds on the shore of a windy lake sometime in late November. "It's just... Ginny again. Remember? 'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.' It's as if they won't ever let her go..."
Harry knew Ron didn't know just how close Ginny was to actually dying that day, and he chose not to tell him. "I'm sure she'll be okay, Ron. She's not the one he wants."
Ron winced. "Then who is?"
"I am."
Hermione had walked in a minute earlier. "Wait, Harry, no! You can't die, because once he kills you, the rest of the world is next!"
Harry smiled wryly. "That's a nice thought, that I'm the only thing between Voldemort and needless oblivion."
Ron winced again. "Don't say the name, Harry, please?"
"Alright." Something told Harry that it wasn't right not to listen to his best friend when he was that sick. Something else made him add: "I'll try not to."
Hermione took a deep breath. "He wants you to go after him, Harry. He wants to be able to kill you."
Harry glanced over at Ron and decided to take Hermione over a bit for what he was going to say. "I'm just afraid the only way for me to get rid of him is killing myself in the process." He whispered, no need to worry Ron more.
"Tell me!" Ron said. "You shouldn't be sharing secrets!"
"Not now, Ron, maybe when you're better."
"Hermione, I'm fine. Nothing is going to make me worse unless You-Know-Who shows up."
"We shouldn't tell him." Harry put in.
"Is it about this growing-up thing that you've all been going on about?"
"No... it's just... you should sleep, Ron, worrying about your sister isn't going to do anyone any good."
At that point, Madame Pomfrey bustled over, accompanied by Professor McGonagall. "Miss Granger is quite right, Mr. Weasley," said the Deputy Headmistress. "Professor Snape has kindly prepared a sleeping draught for all the students healing in the hospital wing."
"I'm not taking anything made by him!" Ron said, disgusted.
"Mr. Weasley! I will not tolerate the slander of my colleagues!" McGonagall exclaimed, wearing a look that plainly said, 'However much I agree or do not like said colleagues myself.' "Three points from Gryffindor."
She left in a swirl of robe.
"Three?" remarked Ron. "Weird."
Madame Pomfrey gave Ron a Look. "She is very upset. Drink."
Ron wasn't to happy about it, but he took the potion. Before he dropped off to sleep, he said: "But take care of my sister! She doesn't have to go through this!"
"Don't worry, Mr. Weasley," Madame Pomfrey said to the half-asleep boy. "She'll be okay." She paused a moment, waiting for his lids to shut the rest of the way. "Now, you two, scoot!"
Harry and Hermione left hastily. "What was that all about? About Ginny?"
Hermione beamed. "I think Ron is finally growing up," she said.
***
[note: watch the warm fuzzies build up and take good care of them, because if everything goes as scripted, right about here, they're going to be leaving our poor main characters for a bit...]
***
Crabbe and Goyle's feet fell heavy as the hulked into the dorm. Draco had been crying.
They shoved him roughly to jar his train of thoughts, then both rolled up their sleeves. "Lookie here, Malfoy," they said in discordant unity, chorused not being the word for the cacophony thier twin voices caused.
The small boy looked up. The Dark Mark. Figured. "So, are you proud of yourselves?" He sneered, attempting to recover his usual demeanor. His red-rimmed eyes betrayed him. "You got a mark burned into you. Aren't you so special?"
They grinned demonically, taking Draco by surprise. "We know the truth now, Mudblood," Crabbe told him. "You were rejected by the Dark Lord..."
"Our lord!" put in Goyle.
"And your blood is filthy, just like Granger's and Creevy's." Crabbe finished. "Looks like we've got ourselves a new plaything."
Draco gaped. He had been previously unaware that the two of them were capable of stringing more than two words together at a time.
"Eh, eh?" Goyle grunted. "Woss he looking like that for?"
At that, Draco realised his assessment was correct and the two of them had been working on that speech for the majority of the train ride here. Then, he realised that he weighed something like seventy-five pounds due to his suicide trip over vacation, and they each weighed something like three hundred. He did a bit of rapid arithmetic, realised they outweighed him culmulatively by some 525 pounds, and decided that his situation was less than the best at present. "oh shit..." was his weak comment, as his ex-guardians leered at him.
By Goddess JacquesPierre
Disclaimer: Ack. I can wish all day that I owned them, but, then again, I could wish I had seventeen more reviews by tomorrow. Neither is very probable at this stage of the game (and everything is a game in my eyes). Also, I in no way endorse drugs in any way, shape, or form, etc, etc, blah, blah, I'm gonna quote Eminem now. "I just said it; I didn't know if you'd do it or not." It's your choice, not mine. Remember that.
Rating: R
Warnings: Frequent shift of format, possibly shifiting POV, slash, angst, masochism, now durg use/abuse, I s'pose. Did I leave out language? There's a lot of it, cause it's a text document.
"If you're ever caught in a bad situation, you'd better hope that whoever has you there is truly evil. The evil person will play with you, giving you time to escape, while the normal person will just kill you straight away."
-Unknown
***
It was not a good day. Five out of the seven Hufflepuff first-years were found unconcious in thier beds. The remaining two were bearers of a scrap of parchment: "You will all die."
It was almost as if they were being played with.
***
Harry was poking his scrambled eggs with a fork when Draco entered the dining hall.
"Harry." He rushed over and snuggled into Harry's side, but Harry ignored him. "Harry!"
Harry pushed his plate away and laid down his fork with a clatter. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise. What's on your mind?"
"Those Hufflepuffs."
"There was nothing you can do."
"They shouldn't have to deal with death that young."
"It's a biological fact."
Harry stood up abruptly, forcing Draco to catch himself on the edge of the table.
"What the--" the blonde snapped.
"Come with?"
"I'm NOT going to hang round your dorm, there are *Weasleys* there. We don't need Ginny sighing over you."
"Yours, then?"
"Certainly."
***
Ron had finally caught Hermione. Getting her to talk, however, was somewhat harder. She had, quite obviously, purposely immersed herself in a thick book the moment Ron sat down next to her.
After some time, she finally exploded. "Ron, I just don't want to talk about it!"
"But... you promised..."
"I said I'd talk to you later. I meant later. Now, leave me alone."
Hurt, Ron exited Stage Right, up the stairs, and into the boy's dorm.
***
Draco flopped onto the couch and motioned Harry to join him. Harry, however, had noticed an open envelope of a pinkish-purplish glittering powder on a table.
He lifted it gently. "What is it?"
"Pixie," Draco replied offhandedly.
" 'Pixie'?"
"Wizarding drug."
"Drug?"
"Hallucinogen."
Harry blinked. "Like LSD?"
"Only a whole lot better."
"Draco!"
"What?" He reclined back lazily. "It's safe as anything gets."
"You shouldn't be doing drugs anyway!"
"It's only the muggle ones that are wooly. It's much easier to get them perfect with the right charm."
"That's not what I meant."
"What, then, Mr. Potter, did you mean?"
"They mess with your head! You're not you while you're on them! Gods, I was kidding yesterday when I suggested you were high."
"Try it."
"What are you, nuts?"
"No, I mean it. Try it!"
"No way!"
"Why not?"
"That's just... I want to keep my head, is all. As a matter of fact-- incendio!"
The envelope burst into flames.
Draco blinked lazily. Potter would just have to be educated about this sort of thing, he thought. "Fine, then," he said. "I'm not on anything today."
As Harry curled up next to him, he muttered softly, "You'd better not be."
***
Ron fell asleep late that night after tossing for an hour and a half. Growing up. Why was his best friend changing all of a sudden?
***
Harry had been asleep, too, when a cold hand came to rest on his inner thigh. His eyes flew open. "Draco?"
The blonde gave a Cheshire-cat smile. "Mmmm?"
"Not tonight."
"Harry, I won't wait much longer. We're spending ages together, but I have hormones, too."
"Something I learned in Muggle school: Just say no."
"I've learned something about school in general: never trust anything they tell you."
"Sometimes they're right."
"Harry, they teach that the world is round."
"Isn't it?"
"Of course not. It's full of bumps. What do you think mountains are?"
"Everyone knows--"
"They also tell you what to do. Abstinance-- what did it ever do for anyone?"
"It probably saved lives. Thing of all the straight-edge kids who didn't OD on heroin!"
"Yeah, the same kids who killed themselves because they were teased for that very reason?"
"I'm sure they didn't."
"Harry, you're so naive. In this world, there are sweet innocents, and then there is what might be termed the 'underworld' where everyone else operates. It's the world of secret anarchists, people who realise the government just isn't doing it, and... everyone else worth knowing, myself included. Government-- especially the government of those damn Americans." [A/N I am American. I mean no offence to the rest of us, it's just... man, our government is fucked up].
"That sounds terrible. Prejudice and all."
"It's the government. Here--" Draco handed Harry a tattered book from the bedside table, "When you get a chance, read this."
Harry lifted his wand. "Lumos." The book: Abbie Hoffman's 'Steal This Book'. "Tattered? Why, Mr. Malfoy, I was unaware you kept anything less than pristine for more than thirty seconds!"
"That book is the Bible. Don't tease me, Potter, if you know what's best for you-- or rather, your outdated ideals."
Harry flicked his wand off. "You're quite a character."
"I know."
Harry chuckled. "I don't think that was quite a compliment."
"Trust me, it was."
"Whatever. May I go back to sleep?"
"If you really want to. It's vacation, I can think of better ways to spend our night."
"No, Draco."
"Fine. Sleep. See what I care."
"Will you promise you won't try anything?"
"What it the promise of a Malfoy worth to Saint Potter?"
"Plenty; if you do, I at least can bother you about it."
"Whatever you say."
"Promise."
"I make no promises."
"But--"
"Harry, if you're going to be lying right there, all innocent, do you really expect me to sleep less than two inches away and keep my hands to myself?"
"Yes."
"You're going to be severely disappointed."
"I sincerely hope I won't be."
"No, you don't."
"Yes I do!"
"I'm not going to argue with you, Potter. You want it as much as I do."
"Maybe so, but I won't give in so readily."
"I'm leaving."
"This isn't the only couch. It's not my fault you fell asleep on me."
"You could have moved me."
"I didn't want to disturb you."
"Hmph." Draco stood lithely, stretched, and turned away from Harry. "Sure you don't want me?"
Harry felt a momentary stirring in his loins at Draco's figure, palely illuminated by the moon, but swallowed the urge to act on it. Gulping, he shook his head. "Quite sure, thank you."
"As you wish. I'll go to sleep, too, in that case."
"Night." Harry curled up and drifted off.
Draco spoke to the sleeping boy. "Night, yourself." It was some time before he actually slept.
***
At about ten o'clock the following morning, Harry left Draco asleep on the couch and went to the Gryffindor dorm for a change of clothes. Heaven knows, he needed it.
He was rummaging through his trunk when he noticed Ron, breathing only shallowly on the bed next to his. He dropped the clean robe and laid his hand over Ron's forehead. Hot and clammy. A piece of torn parchment was pinned to the canopy upon closer inspection: 'We are here. Dumbledore may be great, but we are greater. You will all die.'
It was like a cat with a mouse-- a bit of sport before the killing. Harry felt nauseous. He got Madame Pomfrey immediately, who, upon seeing Ron, promptly ignored Harry and rushed the redhead off to the Hospital Wing.
[A/N] Who has seen the second movie? My, but... Lucius struck me. He's incredibly visually attractive, or at least I think so. None of my friends will agree with me, but, then again, they tend not to anyway.
Transcending the Bullshit, chapter 10
By Goddess JacquesPierre
Disclaimer: Um... hey, I haven't been sued yet! Let's keep it that way! Remember, BORROWED plaything! *nod**nod**nod* *perky wave*
Rating: R
Warnings: Frequent shift of format, possibly shifiting POV, slash, angst, masochism, now drug use/abuse, I s'pose. Did I leave out language? There's a lot of it, cause it's a text document.
***
"Did you do this, Mr. Potter? There have been quite a few suspicious injuries recently." Madame Pomfrey peered over the top of her glasses suspiciously after tending Ron.
"No, Madame!"
She sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, it's just... those first years weren't dead, thank Heaven, but four of them are still in critical condition. They will recover, but slowly. It's unnerving-- it would have been so easy to just outright kill them. It wasn't an accident. And now-- I think that your friend will get better eventually."
"Well, isn't that good?"
"Mr. Potter, I usually know that people are going to get better in this hospital wing. I've owled St. Mungo's, I don't know what else to do. Your friend is in worse condition than those first-years."
At that point, Hermione burst in the door. "Harry! Ron--"
Harry motioned her over. "It's bad."
She chose not to ask; she didn't want to know.
Madame shook her head. "Go on ahead, try to enjoy your vacation. I don't have anything else to tell you."
Hermione nodded slowly. "I'm going to the library, then," she said.
"Alright, then," Harry said with a resigned tone. "I guess I'll go find Draco."
He trudged out of the hospital wing when he was stopped by Hermione. "Find Draco?"
He turned towards her and blinked twice. "I thought you were going to the library."
"Harry, what has been going on?"
"Does it matter?"
"I thought I was your friend!"
Harry looked down. "I'm sorry."
"Friends are supposed to care. That's what friends are for."
A tear fromed in Harry's eye. "Yeah, Hermione. You're right. I guess I haven't been a very good friend recently."
"You've got a lot on your mind. You-know-who's not even waiting for the end of the term to try for you this time."
"That's no excuse."
"C'mon-- we could talk about S.P.E.W?"
"Hermione--" Harry grinned in spite of himself. "Somehow, this isn't the time for that. Could you just give this spew nonsense up?"
"Could you tell me what's going on between you and Malfoy?" Hermione countered.
"Draco," Harry corrected pesively. "It's just-- I went and saved his life because he was out in the snow, and it was cold, and he was bleeding and unconcious--"
"Bleeding?"
"He'd cut his wrists-- at the time I didn't know it was him. Draco didn't seem like the type for suicide-- he still doesn't-- but I saw the blood and the snow and bare feet and--"
Hermione nodded. "So you took him to the Prefect's bathroom to clean him up?"
"It was closer!" Harry protested weakly. "Besides... I wasn't thinking clearly. I just saw this beautiful boy, and he needed help."
"So you rush in and ditch off his clothes as soon as you can?"
"Herm! It's not like I had a choice! I don't think, somehow, that suicide or saving someone from themselves would amuse McGonagall! I don't want to get busted for saving his life. He would've died, and I needed to make sure that he hadn't done anything else."
"And you left them in the bathroom?"
"I was tired."
"Hmmph. For your information, Harry, your robes can be traced. That's how I found out you'd been doing things afterhours with a bloody Malfoy."
"Draco, Hermione. Do you know why he's so bitter?"
She frowned. "He'd better have a good reason if you're going to like him."
"He was muggle-born-- adopted."
"Why-- oh." Hermione understood. "He was a vent for his adoptive parent's anti-muggle feelings?"
"A toy."
Hermione winced. "So it was a defense mechanism? Be hateful so that it won't hurt so much when your parents are hateful to you?"
Harry nodded. "It's a lot easier to like him when you know that. Also-- he broke it."
"What do you mean?"
"He broke the bitterness. That's when he decided to kill himself-- when he decided that he wasn't going to put up with his parent's crap anymore." As an afterthought, he added: "And decided that he was sick of hiding the fact that he's bi."
"So?"
"Living with his parents and out is suicide, Hermione. His father's a Death Eater."
Hermione shuddered. "Don't mention it. So, you two are together?"
"What do you mean, 'together'?"
"You know, like boyfriends?"
"Ummm..."
Hermione's eyes lit up. "You are!" She hugged him forcefully. "I KNEW it!"
"What?"
"Well... it was obvious something was going on. I mean, you asked about him after he disappeared, like you cared but weren't ready to let us know."
"Hermione!"
She pressed on. "Just like Cho, back in fourth year!"
Harry groaned. "You knew?"
"Harry, it was hard to miss if you knew what you were looking for."
"And I suppose you knew."
"Of course, Harry-- I'm the 'insufferable know-it-all', remember?"
"That was terrible, Hermione. Snape shouldn't've said that; don't remind me." [A/N-- if anyone is as much of an obsessed HP nut as I am and can tell me what that referred to, they get the next chapter dedicated to them as they deserve it and ought to be writing fanfiction of their own].
"Still-- I'm happy for you."
"Why? It's Draco we're talking about-- the same one who's been insulting you for God knows how long."
"I don't think he was insulting me."
"Eh?"
"Welll... you can look at it two ways. Either he was really insulting his parent's upbringing, or..."
"Or what?"
"Or he was trying to get a rise out of you."
"What?"
"It doesn't make sense for him to hate you-- he has no reason to."
"That day on the train, I refused his friendship..."
"I know."
"You weren't there!"
"Ron told me. Anyway... he was attracted to you! He wanted to be your friend, just went about trying to get your friendship the wrong way. He didn't know better, you've said as much yourself. And ever since, everything you've said and done has been tainted by a bad first impression. You've gotten a new first impression, is all, and now you can see each other clearly. It'll take Ron and me a bit to get used to it, but I'm still happy for you."
'Wow, Herm, you've pieced together everything in fifteen minutes that took the two of us two weeks to figure out."
"Thanks." She turned to go, and called over her shoulder as she ran off: "The library calls!"
Harry walked off towards that Slytherin dorm pensively.
***
Harry gave the stone the password absently, and it opened silently for him. He walked into the sea of Slytherin green and silver to see Draco stirring something in a caulron in the middle of the room.
"What're you doing, Drac?" he asked.
Draco jumped, and with a flick of his wand, the cauldron vanished. "Shit! I thought you weren't coming back."
"Why not?"
"News flys in a small castle, Potter. I heard about Weasley."
"He wasn't in much condition to talk."
"Yeah, but don't you Gryffindors sit by the side of your invalid friends or something?"
Harry laughed. "Only sometimes."
"Didn't you sit by my side?"
"It was sleep, plus, you're different."
"Oh, am I?"
"You're incredibly hot. It's not like watching someone you like sleep, it's like watching a model or something."
"Harry, you're a character."
"That's funny, I remember using the same term with you last night."
"Yes, I do too. So we're both characters. Makes for a storybook relationship."
"Draaaaaaa-co!"
"What, love?"
"You're flirting."
"So I am. Does it matter?"
"Yes, I want an answer. What were you doing?"
Draco coloured slightly. "Does that matter?"
"Well... it would matter more if the question was 'WHO were you doing', but somehow I don't think that's likely."
"Who is there, besides you? Snape?"
"I dunno, you and Snape seem pretty cozy in Potions, sometimes."
"I am NOT going to shag the Potions master! Good god, Harry, he OLD!"
"Alright, but seriously, what were you doing?"
"Nothing."
"You were doing something."
"It's not important, okay?"
"You weren't doing anything with that drug, were you?"
"No... you haven't read the book yet, have you."
"Not yet. I will as soon as I have a moment."
"What are you doing right now?"
"Talking to you?"
"Do you have a moment?"
"Sure..."
"Come on, then." Draco grabbed Harry's wrist. "You can read it now. You left it here." He snatched the book and began to pull Harry off.
"Where are you taking me?" Harry asked, offering a good deal of resistance.
"Just to my dorm, I'm sick of couches."
"You'd better not try anything."
"Harry, if I was going to try anything against your will, I would have done so already."
"Oh, would you have?" Harry asked.
"It would be simple." Draco slipped the book into his pocket, produced his wand, and mumbled something. Harry found himself entwined in cords made of surprisingly strong, pink spun sugar. He gave Draco a dirty look.
"Point taken."
"Well, then, let's go." Draco waved his wand lightly, the sugar disappeared, and he led Harry off to his room uncontested.
Harry flipped open the cover and skimmed the first few lines. "Draco! This guy was in prison???"
"Yeah, so? Muggle prison is way different than Azkaban."
"Okaaaay..." Harry continued reading quietly. He decided not to ask until dinner, when he'd've finished.
When Harry was sufficiently engrossed, Draco slipped away, brought back the cauldron, and finished what he was doing.
***
Harry decided that there was a lot in this book that he'd need to discuss with Draco.
***
At dinner that night, halfway through the meal, Harry started feeling distinctly funny. He looked at his cup of half-finished pumkin juice, then at Draco, who was smiling rather less than innocently. "Draco, what did you do?"
"You'll see. I promise, no drugs yet."
Transcending the Bullshit, chapter 11
By Goddess JacquesPierre
Disclaimer: *sigh* Not mine...poor author... borrowing characters... anyways, I'm not making money off of this one (or even trying), so don't sue me (or even try to).
Rating: R
Warnings: Frequent shift of format, possibly shifiting POV, slash, angst, masochism, now drug use/abuse, I s'pose. Did I leave out language? There's a lot of it, cause it's a text document.
A thank-you for all the reviews; I feed them to my muse who helps me write these chapters, however long they may be in coming (hint: It's hard to write with a hungry muse).
To Lyra and Darkraven, for making me feel like I'm not the only one who memorises these books to an extreme-- thirty times each. What can I say-- they're good rainy-day or cold-weather reading.
***
Harry followed Draco up to the Slytherin dorm rather reluctantly, not trusting whatever the blonde had done in the slightest and pestering to tell him what it was constantly.
Draco, for his part, came up with multiple empty reassurances. His latest: "Don't worry, Harry, it's only a simple potion."
"And what's it going to do to me?"
"Nothing harmful."
"You didn't mess up?"
"I'm better at potions than Snape, Harry."
"Well, you're modest."
"I'm a Malfoy, well, an adoptive one. We don't know the meaning of the word."
"You're not Malfoy. You're Draco."
"I never learned it."
"Okay, but--"
"I'm not telling you, Potter. It's going to be a surprise, and a pleasant one."
"Why do you still use my last name as a term of direct address, anyway?"
"You haven't got anything bad associated with it. Your last name is as much a part of you as your first. Mine isn't."
Harry nodded slowly. "I see. Draco, please--"
"No, Harry." Finality rang through the words, and Draco turned to the stretch of wall leading to Slytherin. He spoke the password authoritively and pulled Harry inside. "Can you leave off the questions? Tomorrow, everyone comes back. This is our last night alone."
Harry gaped. "Really?"
"Yes. Now..." He walked toward the dorm room, and Harry, in a state of mild shock, followed.
It wasn't until they were both sprawled into Draco's four-poster that he came to. "What are you--"
"Quiet."
"No." Harry rolled over to look at the other boy square in the eyes. "Will you tell me just what is going on? Or I'm going to leave."
"Wellll..." Draco checked his watch. "Since, at this point, there is no turning back..." Harry goggled at his boyfriend, silently cursing whatever had gotten him into this postion. "I slipped something into your drink."
"That much I could guess."
"Harry... I can't tell you anything else with words."
"Huh?"
"Really intellegent one we have here-- no, Harry, our relationship has gone past that point. You know everything about me-- or enough that if I tell you anything else, it'll upset all the little quirks that'll pop up at odd times and send us both into laughter. And-- you're just nervous."
"Damn straight!"
"I most certainly am not."
"I mean, I'm nervous. Sure, I'm nervous. Of course I'm nervous. Why wouldn't I be nervous?"
"You're babbling, too. Ssshh." He covered Harry's mouth gently. "My point is, it's not even a moral reason we're not shagging. Bloody hell, Harry, we're teenage boys. There IS no such thing as inhibition. You're just scared you're going to mess something up."
"Well..." Harry blushed.
"Anyway, it was a simple potion to relieve anxiety and that sort of thing. I thought it would be nice to have a night together, properly together, before we have to seperate."
"But--"
"No buts, love."
"They put Muggles in jail for this sort of thing!"
"It's not rape if both people want it."
"And if the person only wants it because they've been drugged, then it's still rape!"
"Harry, you want it. You just can't admit it to yourself." The words rang true, Harry conceded, but that didn't mean anything.
Draco kissed him.
That meant something, though he wasn't quite sure what.
***
Back in Gryffindor Tower, Professor McGonagall was pacing in the middle of the common room. Both of the Weasley twins were white-faced and stuttering, while their sister was barely breathing and unconscious in the center of a red throw rug.
"It was terrible, Professor," Fred remarked gravely and breathlessly. "There was nothing we could do..."
***
It was a bit later, not long, but enough, when Harry spoke. "Draco-- do you think--"
"Not now, love."
"Seriously-- is this going to be secret when everyone comes back?"
"Of course! Anything else would be suicide."
"But Drac--ohhh... that feels nice..."
***
It was later on that morning that the two boys rested.
"Have fun, Potter?"
Harry grinned, breathless, as the pale rays of morning light broke upon his face. "Yeah, I don't know why we hadn't..."
"See? I was right." Draco gave his boyfriend a self-satisfied smirk.
Harry sighed. "Yes, you were very right." He stood up, streched, and shook out his robes from the previous night before putting them on. "I'm going to go see Ron."
"What? So soon?"
"You said it yourself, Draco, to be seen together is suicide, and I want a chance to settle into my dorm again. If the bed's made when everyone else gets here, they're going to ask questions. The house-elves aren't THAT efficient, and I usually sleep late."
"Fine. Go. See what I care." Draco turned away, not used to rebuttals or being denied anything.
"Draco--" With that, Harry caught the blonde in a rather intense hug (with purposes of startling him. It worked). After a moment, he released it. "But that's going to have to last, love. Owl me sometime if you can figure out a way to keep this safe and secret." And then he was gone, leaving Draco stunned in his wake.
***
Harry ran through the halls to the Hospital Wing, and burst in as quietly as he could manage.
Madame Pomfrey and a team of strange wizards were making rounds of the beds. Ron was up on his elbows, weakly, and staring at a bed across the room. He appeared to be mumbling something.
Harry walked over silently to listen to his friend.
"Ginny... not you again... why are you always the hardest hit..."
"Ron!" Harry whispered. "You're okay?"
The redhead looked over. "Sort of..."
"Will you be okay?"
Ron nodded. "I hope so..." His voice was thin and scratchy, like a number of dried reeds on the shore of a windy lake sometime in late November. "It's just... Ginny again. Remember? 'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.' It's as if they won't ever let her go..."
Harry knew Ron didn't know just how close Ginny was to actually dying that day, and he chose not to tell him. "I'm sure she'll be okay, Ron. She's not the one he wants."
Ron winced. "Then who is?"
"I am."
Hermione had walked in a minute earlier. "Wait, Harry, no! You can't die, because once he kills you, the rest of the world is next!"
Harry smiled wryly. "That's a nice thought, that I'm the only thing between Voldemort and needless oblivion."
Ron winced again. "Don't say the name, Harry, please?"
"Alright." Something told Harry that it wasn't right not to listen to his best friend when he was that sick. Something else made him add: "I'll try not to."
Hermione took a deep breath. "He wants you to go after him, Harry. He wants to be able to kill you."
Harry glanced over at Ron and decided to take Hermione over a bit for what he was going to say. "I'm just afraid the only way for me to get rid of him is killing myself in the process." He whispered, no need to worry Ron more.
"Tell me!" Ron said. "You shouldn't be sharing secrets!"
"Not now, Ron, maybe when you're better."
"Hermione, I'm fine. Nothing is going to make me worse unless You-Know-Who shows up."
"We shouldn't tell him." Harry put in.
"Is it about this growing-up thing that you've all been going on about?"
"No... it's just... you should sleep, Ron, worrying about your sister isn't going to do anyone any good."
At that point, Madame Pomfrey bustled over, accompanied by Professor McGonagall. "Miss Granger is quite right, Mr. Weasley," said the Deputy Headmistress. "Professor Snape has kindly prepared a sleeping draught for all the students healing in the hospital wing."
"I'm not taking anything made by him!" Ron said, disgusted.
"Mr. Weasley! I will not tolerate the slander of my colleagues!" McGonagall exclaimed, wearing a look that plainly said, 'However much I agree or do not like said colleagues myself.' "Three points from Gryffindor."
She left in a swirl of robe.
"Three?" remarked Ron. "Weird."
Madame Pomfrey gave Ron a Look. "She is very upset. Drink."
Ron wasn't to happy about it, but he took the potion. Before he dropped off to sleep, he said: "But take care of my sister! She doesn't have to go through this!"
"Don't worry, Mr. Weasley," Madame Pomfrey said to the half-asleep boy. "She'll be okay." She paused a moment, waiting for his lids to shut the rest of the way. "Now, you two, scoot!"
Harry and Hermione left hastily. "What was that all about? About Ginny?"
Hermione beamed. "I think Ron is finally growing up," she said.
***
[note: watch the warm fuzzies build up and take good care of them, because if everything goes as scripted, right about here, they're going to be leaving our poor main characters for a bit...]
***
Crabbe and Goyle's feet fell heavy as the hulked into the dorm. Draco had been crying.
They shoved him roughly to jar his train of thoughts, then both rolled up their sleeves. "Lookie here, Malfoy," they said in discordant unity, chorused not being the word for the cacophony thier twin voices caused.
The small boy looked up. The Dark Mark. Figured. "So, are you proud of yourselves?" He sneered, attempting to recover his usual demeanor. His red-rimmed eyes betrayed him. "You got a mark burned into you. Aren't you so special?"
They grinned demonically, taking Draco by surprise. "We know the truth now, Mudblood," Crabbe told him. "You were rejected by the Dark Lord..."
"Our lord!" put in Goyle.
"And your blood is filthy, just like Granger's and Creevy's." Crabbe finished. "Looks like we've got ourselves a new plaything."
Draco gaped. He had been previously unaware that the two of them were capable of stringing more than two words together at a time.
"Eh, eh?" Goyle grunted. "Woss he looking like that for?"
At that, Draco realised his assessment was correct and the two of them had been working on that speech for the majority of the train ride here. Then, he realised that he weighed something like seventy-five pounds due to his suicide trip over vacation, and they each weighed something like three hundred. He did a bit of rapid arithmetic, realised they outweighed him culmulatively by some 525 pounds, and decided that his situation was less than the best at present. "oh shit..." was his weak comment, as his ex-guardians leered at him.