"Well," Draco said viciously, glancing at his two very large, very Slytherin, and very unintelligent cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.
They, in turn, proceeded to stare at him blankly.
"Yeh?" Goyle timidly spoke up. For weighing about two hundred pounds, he was a wimp when it came to Draco.
"It seems to me that there has been a bit.. of a problem. You two *told* your fathers, who in turn told *my* father, that I didn't want to join Lord Voldemort."
They nodded dumbly.
"You are both," Draco announced, "The biggest idiots in the Northern Hemisphere."
He stalked off.
Goyle and Crabbe looked at each other, shrugged, and got into a fight over a stolen chunk of roast beef.
----------
Draco swept on his father's invisibility cloak and began to walk towards the kitchens. His stomach was growling uncomfortably, as Goyle had been rather stupid and eaten all his food that he'd nicked from the kitchens. (This had resulted in Draco smacking him over the head with an extremely heavy book. However, since Goyle was, indeed, stupid, there was no response.)
He heard voices coming from the kitchen as he tugged off the hood, slipping in. He watched all the house elves scatter, revealing..
Ginny Weasley and some random girl with light purple hair.
Grrrrrrrreat.
"Well," he drawled, "If it isn't the muggle-loving queen and a runaway Whale."
The girl with purple hair stared at him.
"My name is Key. Who the fuck are you?" She flickered her dark gaze over him.
"I," he drew himself up proudly, "Am Draco Malfoy."
She blinked at him.
"Okay. Did you want something, or are you just going to sit there and look as if you dunked your head in silver paint?"
Ginny giggled quietly, watching. She wasn't in a mood to get in a fight with Malfoy, besides -- Key had told her she enjoyed picking fights.
"Excuse me?" Draco glared at her.
She grinned. "By the way. Both my parents are muggle. Oh, no! The world's gonna end! Sicc old Voldie on me!"
Draco was absolutely aghast. While he wasn't really interested in following the Lord -- he was much too proud for that -- he was never downright dispresctful.. and this weird, lanky girl with a cheshire grin and an arm thrown around Ginny Weasley as if they were the best of pals.. was No One to the Dark Lord.
"Did you know," she continued conversationally, "That Voldemort reminds me agonizingly of a really annoying guy named Adolph Hitler?"
Draco blinked. Hitler? Now that was a little extreme..
Ginny nodded. "Yes," he'd never noticed how cute her voice was before. He abruptly scolded himself. Where had THAT come from? "He's that muggle man who killed a lot of people, isn't he?"
Suddenly Key was dead serious, and she fixed her intense black gaze on him.
"Twelve million," she said softly, "Twelve million people, dead because of one stupid man. He was a coward. He couldn't handle his own pain.. so in turn he lashed out at other people. An immature coward.. and somehow, he's got to power."
She paused, clambering off her stool.
"But you know what, Draco my boy?" She quirked a smile, a curious little smirk that was sad and dangerous all at the same time. "He'll die. I will make sure of that."
She walked towards the exit. He was stunned. These words -- words no one had ever, ever dared to say -- most didn't even want to say the name, much less slurs against him.. he couldn't move.
When he had regained his senses, he noticed he was alone with Ginny Weasley.
The girl with carrot-colored hair, deep red-orange, stared back. Her chocolate brown eyes were intent and not a bit frightened -- though she was, inwardly.
Silence pervaded the area. She was different. Not the beautiful that some girls were, but sweet-featured and plush-bodied.
And quite unfortunately, a Gryffindor.
You see, Draco Malfoy couldn't quite get past that. It could be that he was only fifteen, but he just couldn't. There seemed to be this line seperating him from everyone else, so he was stuck with.. the people in Slytherin.
Suddenly, there was a noise.
Ginny tensed and lookd over at a house-elf.
"Nickel, was that Filch?"
The house-elf nodded minutely, too terrified of Draco to speak.
".. Shit." The two humans spoke in unision.
And quite suddenly, they both bolted towards the door. They tried to run silently. Ginny whipped out her wand and hissed at a door "Alohamora!" and it clicked. She swung it open and stepped in, Draco following her. The door swang closed, and Ginny turned around..
Only to realize they were in a closet. The closet that locked you in -- not just for a bit, but all night.
So. He was trapped in a closet with an extremely attractive girl, whom he could do absolutely nothing with because she was a Gryffindor and he was a Slytherin. And she was absolutely bewildered. When had Draco Malfoy of all people gotten handsome?
It must have been magic.
--------------------------
Harry Potter crouched quietly in front of a fireplace, speaking in hushed tones with one Sirius Black -- his godfather.
Sirius was looking much better lately. He looked younger, his hair was cut -- as a matter of fact, he was damned good looking.
Quite unfortunately, he was an escaped convinct and the former womanizer could do absolutely no flirting.
"Do you have any news?"
"No.. there are some kids from a school from Wales, and a teacher, and one American girl.. but that's it, I think."
"He's inactive. He's planning something.."
Suddenly the portraithole swung open. So suddenly, in fact, that by the time one Miss Angela Piers had entered the Gryffindor Common, she laid eyes on Sirius Black and Harry Potter.
She clapped a hand to her mouth. A pretty woman of perhaps twenty-eight, she was a former Charms teacher. Professer Dumbledore had very kindly offered her sanctuary, and, as part of it, she was to make rounds and make sure everyone was in bed.
Obviously, at one AM in the morning, everyone was not.
"That's.." she knew better than to scream. "That is Sirius Black.."
Harry spoke quickly. "Miss Piers, I swear to you, it's not.. he's innocent, he really is, he's my godfather, and --"
"I don't want to hear it." She had green eyes, the colour of faded limestone. Cats eyes, flecked with gold.
"But Miss Piers.." Harry trailed off.
"You're supposed to be in bed, Harry." She studed him intently. Her honey blonde hair was neatly tied in a messy ponytail, which appeared to be falling out.
Sirius wasn't sure what to do. This was clearly a no nonsense woman -- yet she didn't appear to be scared by him.
"Miss." He spoke quietly.
"Yes?" She glanced at him.
"You must understand.. this is the only way Harry and I can talk."
She walked forward. The same as most of the Wales people, she had no uniform -- simply wearing a short-sleeved, dark green shirt (one that rather brought out her eyes, or so thought Monsiuer Black) and a khaki skirt.
"Perhaps. But it is one in the morning and the common room is cleared by eleven. I'm sure that Harry would be able to communicate you at an earlier time."
Suddenly, Sirius was struck by an idea.
"Why don't you talk with us?" He asked warmly, hoping she would accept or at least let them be.
She carefully eyed him. Obviously, she saw through the gesture -- yet they'd have information for her. Information, perhaps, for Dumbledore. (As she was not yet aware of the communication between the esteemed Professer and Black.)
"Yes. All right.."
Sirius was relieved. At least she wouldn't turn him in.
"So?" She sat down on a cushion. "Let's hear your news, Black." A smirk tugged at her lips.
"Well," he began, "Last night I was.. hanging around a city corner, in London, when I heard a whisper.."
They, in turn, proceeded to stare at him blankly.
"Yeh?" Goyle timidly spoke up. For weighing about two hundred pounds, he was a wimp when it came to Draco.
"It seems to me that there has been a bit.. of a problem. You two *told* your fathers, who in turn told *my* father, that I didn't want to join Lord Voldemort."
They nodded dumbly.
"You are both," Draco announced, "The biggest idiots in the Northern Hemisphere."
He stalked off.
Goyle and Crabbe looked at each other, shrugged, and got into a fight over a stolen chunk of roast beef.
----------
Draco swept on his father's invisibility cloak and began to walk towards the kitchens. His stomach was growling uncomfortably, as Goyle had been rather stupid and eaten all his food that he'd nicked from the kitchens. (This had resulted in Draco smacking him over the head with an extremely heavy book. However, since Goyle was, indeed, stupid, there was no response.)
He heard voices coming from the kitchen as he tugged off the hood, slipping in. He watched all the house elves scatter, revealing..
Ginny Weasley and some random girl with light purple hair.
Grrrrrrrreat.
"Well," he drawled, "If it isn't the muggle-loving queen and a runaway Whale."
The girl with purple hair stared at him.
"My name is Key. Who the fuck are you?" She flickered her dark gaze over him.
"I," he drew himself up proudly, "Am Draco Malfoy."
She blinked at him.
"Okay. Did you want something, or are you just going to sit there and look as if you dunked your head in silver paint?"
Ginny giggled quietly, watching. She wasn't in a mood to get in a fight with Malfoy, besides -- Key had told her she enjoyed picking fights.
"Excuse me?" Draco glared at her.
She grinned. "By the way. Both my parents are muggle. Oh, no! The world's gonna end! Sicc old Voldie on me!"
Draco was absolutely aghast. While he wasn't really interested in following the Lord -- he was much too proud for that -- he was never downright dispresctful.. and this weird, lanky girl with a cheshire grin and an arm thrown around Ginny Weasley as if they were the best of pals.. was No One to the Dark Lord.
"Did you know," she continued conversationally, "That Voldemort reminds me agonizingly of a really annoying guy named Adolph Hitler?"
Draco blinked. Hitler? Now that was a little extreme..
Ginny nodded. "Yes," he'd never noticed how cute her voice was before. He abruptly scolded himself. Where had THAT come from? "He's that muggle man who killed a lot of people, isn't he?"
Suddenly Key was dead serious, and she fixed her intense black gaze on him.
"Twelve million," she said softly, "Twelve million people, dead because of one stupid man. He was a coward. He couldn't handle his own pain.. so in turn he lashed out at other people. An immature coward.. and somehow, he's got to power."
She paused, clambering off her stool.
"But you know what, Draco my boy?" She quirked a smile, a curious little smirk that was sad and dangerous all at the same time. "He'll die. I will make sure of that."
She walked towards the exit. He was stunned. These words -- words no one had ever, ever dared to say -- most didn't even want to say the name, much less slurs against him.. he couldn't move.
When he had regained his senses, he noticed he was alone with Ginny Weasley.
The girl with carrot-colored hair, deep red-orange, stared back. Her chocolate brown eyes were intent and not a bit frightened -- though she was, inwardly.
Silence pervaded the area. She was different. Not the beautiful that some girls were, but sweet-featured and plush-bodied.
And quite unfortunately, a Gryffindor.
You see, Draco Malfoy couldn't quite get past that. It could be that he was only fifteen, but he just couldn't. There seemed to be this line seperating him from everyone else, so he was stuck with.. the people in Slytherin.
Suddenly, there was a noise.
Ginny tensed and lookd over at a house-elf.
"Nickel, was that Filch?"
The house-elf nodded minutely, too terrified of Draco to speak.
".. Shit." The two humans spoke in unision.
And quite suddenly, they both bolted towards the door. They tried to run silently. Ginny whipped out her wand and hissed at a door "Alohamora!" and it clicked. She swung it open and stepped in, Draco following her. The door swang closed, and Ginny turned around..
Only to realize they were in a closet. The closet that locked you in -- not just for a bit, but all night.
So. He was trapped in a closet with an extremely attractive girl, whom he could do absolutely nothing with because she was a Gryffindor and he was a Slytherin. And she was absolutely bewildered. When had Draco Malfoy of all people gotten handsome?
It must have been magic.
--------------------------
Harry Potter crouched quietly in front of a fireplace, speaking in hushed tones with one Sirius Black -- his godfather.
Sirius was looking much better lately. He looked younger, his hair was cut -- as a matter of fact, he was damned good looking.
Quite unfortunately, he was an escaped convinct and the former womanizer could do absolutely no flirting.
"Do you have any news?"
"No.. there are some kids from a school from Wales, and a teacher, and one American girl.. but that's it, I think."
"He's inactive. He's planning something.."
Suddenly the portraithole swung open. So suddenly, in fact, that by the time one Miss Angela Piers had entered the Gryffindor Common, she laid eyes on Sirius Black and Harry Potter.
She clapped a hand to her mouth. A pretty woman of perhaps twenty-eight, she was a former Charms teacher. Professer Dumbledore had very kindly offered her sanctuary, and, as part of it, she was to make rounds and make sure everyone was in bed.
Obviously, at one AM in the morning, everyone was not.
"That's.." she knew better than to scream. "That is Sirius Black.."
Harry spoke quickly. "Miss Piers, I swear to you, it's not.. he's innocent, he really is, he's my godfather, and --"
"I don't want to hear it." She had green eyes, the colour of faded limestone. Cats eyes, flecked with gold.
"But Miss Piers.." Harry trailed off.
"You're supposed to be in bed, Harry." She studed him intently. Her honey blonde hair was neatly tied in a messy ponytail, which appeared to be falling out.
Sirius wasn't sure what to do. This was clearly a no nonsense woman -- yet she didn't appear to be scared by him.
"Miss." He spoke quietly.
"Yes?" She glanced at him.
"You must understand.. this is the only way Harry and I can talk."
She walked forward. The same as most of the Wales people, she had no uniform -- simply wearing a short-sleeved, dark green shirt (one that rather brought out her eyes, or so thought Monsiuer Black) and a khaki skirt.
"Perhaps. But it is one in the morning and the common room is cleared by eleven. I'm sure that Harry would be able to communicate you at an earlier time."
Suddenly, Sirius was struck by an idea.
"Why don't you talk with us?" He asked warmly, hoping she would accept or at least let them be.
She carefully eyed him. Obviously, she saw through the gesture -- yet they'd have information for her. Information, perhaps, for Dumbledore. (As she was not yet aware of the communication between the esteemed Professer and Black.)
"Yes. All right.."
Sirius was relieved. At least she wouldn't turn him in.
"So?" She sat down on a cushion. "Let's hear your news, Black." A smirk tugged at her lips.
"Well," he began, "Last night I was.. hanging around a city corner, in London, when I heard a whisper.."
