A/N: Well I guess I am on a roll – here is the next chapter already! Hope you like it – and please review! And a warning: This part has more intense scenes than the ones before it…so if snogging grosses you out beware!
Disclaimer: JK Rowlings owns everything (but I am starting to kind of want Draco though…;) )
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Veronica shivered underneath her Hogwarts cloak. It was afternoon, but the school grounds were covered in about a foot of powdery snow. Looking through the tower window she had enjoyed the picturesque winter scene; she gazed at the slender birch trees laden with snow and the dazzlingly white ground with delight. But her romantic notions of winter soon faded as she stepped outside.
"It is so cold," she stuttered, pulling her cloak tightly around her body. "How do you all stand it?"
Harry trudged by her side, looking quite comfortable. "It really isn't that bad…you do know that, right?"
"Yeah, if you're an Eskimo," Veronica grumbled, as she sank
knee-deep into a snowdrift. She shivered again as a particularly icy blast of
wind blew past. "How far is it to this Hagird's place, again?"
Harry shook his head, eyeing her with a patronizing glance. "You Californians are just soft…you need to toughen up," he grinned teasingly. "The cold weather is great. It makes you feel alive."
"I am quite satisfied with my cookie-cutter seventy degree weather, thank you very much."
"Ah," Harry said knowingly. "But you don't get any variety. No seasons. I mean this," He gestured around him. "Is quite pretty, don't you think."
"Yeah, lovely," Veronica rolled her eyes. "In a sort of I'm-freezing-my-ass-off-and-would-rather-be-inside kind of way…OW!"
Something cold and wet slapped against the nape of her neck. She swung around to gaze at Harry who was bent down in the process of making another snowball. With a devilish grin, he threw it at her playfully, hitting her in the arm.
"Oh so that's how it is!" Veronica dove down, gathered up a huge clump of snow, and patted it up in her hands. She raised her eyebrows mischievously. "You my friend are going down!"
With adept skill, she hurled a well-aimed snowball hitting him in the chest. He replied by pelting her with two in the back with rapid succession. The throwing all caution to the wind, Harry rushed at Veronica and tackled her into the snow amid her indignant squeals. She stood up a few seconds later, a cascade of white flakes falling from her clothes and hair. Grabbing an enormous bunch of snow in her arms she stuffed it on top of Harry's head, and then tugged him down by the sleeve. Shrieking with laughter, they wrestled each other for a while. When they finally stopped, Veronica was practically buried, and Harry's glasses were covered with so much snow that he could no longer see out of them.
"Ha!" Harry leaned triumphantly over Veronica. He took off his glasses to rub them. Through his blurred vision he could see her below him, a vague form nestled in a pile of snow. "I think I won this time."
"Yeah right," She playfully threw a bit of snow at him that hit him square in the nose. She gazed up at him like she was seeing him for the first time. "Your eyes," She said tenderly. "They are so green. You look so different without glasses."
"Better?" he asked. One of the big questions that Teen Witch kept on asking was whether or not he would ever correct his vision with magic.
"Naw," Veronica said softly. "Either way…it looks good." Harry put his glasses back on and smiled at her…his smiles were always so wide and sincere. And contagious, Veronica felt her own lips curling up into a wide grin. He looked so impossibly goofy, his black hair flecked with white snow, standing widely on end as if it had been electrified, and his bright green eyes gleaming in the afternoon sunlight, under his crooked glasses. "You look more intellectual with them on," Veronica chuckled.
Harry laughed loud and heartily. "Well they haven't seemed fool many people have they?"
"I think you've fooled some people…" But her voice trailed off. She was gazing up at him endearingly. Her eyes slowly closed as Harry leaned into her. Soon he was quite close; she could smell the grassy odor that always clung to him, along with the smell of fresh snow. He kissed her on the lips, he was embracing her; she could feel the warmth of his body, a reassuring heat that seemed to melt the chill air. His wiry frame was pressed up against her and she sank deeper into the snow; her fingers were caressing his shoulders and sliding down his back. The kisses were full of passion; she drank in the sweetness of his mouth, felt them move down to her neck…
"Ahem," Harry and Veronica sprang to their feet guiltily, flushed and covered in snow. Veronica hastily straightened out her cloak and Harry pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Hagrid loomed over them, his hands on his hips.
"I uh, tripped into the snow…Harry was-er-helping me up," Veronica lied quite unconvincingly.
"As I understand 't," Hagrid said disapprovingly, though his dark eyes where twinkling with amusement. "PDAs are off limits on school grounds."
Harry and Veronica started to gaze at the ground like it held the secrets of the universe.
"But," Hagrid grinned mercilessly. "They do say th' best way to get warm in the cold…"
"I think we better go back to your house, d'you reckon Hagrid?" Harry said quite loudly. Hagrid took the hint and they began to trudge off through the snow.
"So yeh would be Veronica?" he asked, falling in step with her.
"Yeah," she answered gazing up at him. The astonishment at seeing an eight-foot person had no yet worn off for her. She hesitantly stuck out a hand. "Hagrid right?"
"Th' very one," he replied, a grabbing her hand, vigorously shook it. "Nice t' meet yeh. Harry said a lot of powerful queer stuff's been happenin' and yeh in th' thick of it all…a muggle too as Dumbledore hinted," He shook his head, and looked at Veronica with a mixture of amazement and caution. He looked as if he didn't quite know what to make of her. Veronica regretfully wished that his first impression of her hadn't involved a make-out session.
They soon reached Hagrid's small one room hut that was at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A crossbow and pair of goulashes were leaned against the broad wooden doorway. Veronica heard loud barking emerge from within.
"Do you have a dog Hagrid?" she inquired curiously.
"Naw, he's no dog," Hagrid said. "Fang's my boarhound."
He carefully opened the door, grabbing Fang by the leash before he could burst out. Veronica cautiously approached the large boarhound and patted him tentatively on the shoulder. Fang whimpered, and gave her a slobbery lick on the hand. Panting, his long pink tongue lolled out between his sharp teeth.
"He seems ter 'ave takin' a likin' to yeh," Hagrid beamed. From that point on Veronica sensed no cautious vibes from him whatsoever. It seemed that whatever was all right with Fang was all right by him.
Hagrid told them to sit down and make themselves at home. Veronica sat happily by the fire, feeling her frosty skin and wet hair gradually become warm and dry. Fang curled up on a rug and soon was fast asleep. Hagrid boiled a kettle on the open fire.
"Would yeh be wanting tea, Miss Veronica?"
"No thanks, Hagrid…not much of a tea drinker."
"Then how about one of me rock cakes?"
"Sure," Veronica eyed Harry curiously who was shaking his head and mouthing something behind Hagrid's back. She soon discovered why when she took her first bite; it was a miracle that her tooth remained intact.
Hagrid filled them in on everything he had done over the summer. Apparently, Dumbledore had sent him on a mission to see if he could convince the giants in the North not to join Voldemort. But the task had been a difficult one.
"They aren't to keen on joining either side," Hagrid said grimly. "An' most of them ain't to pleased with wizards in general…if Fudge's ministry had been kinder to 'em I reckon they'd join us against You-Know-Who in no time. But now…prospect's pretty dim if yeh ask me." He shook his head. "Which a mighty blow to our side…You-Know-Who's got some allies already with those dementors guarding Azkaban…they'll join 'em Death Eaters quicker than I can spit, mark my words."
"But surely they aren't the only thing guarding Azkaban?" Harry said anxiously. Most of Voldemort's most loyal supporters were locked away there…and with them by his side…Harry shuddered involuntarily.
"Ah no," Hagrid shivered, remembering his brief, but harrowing stay at the wizard's prison. "They are part…an' a great part of what's guarding that awful place…but fortunately not all. An ancient magic shields Azkaban…something not even You-Know-Who can get past…or at least so it's hoped."
Both Veronica and Harry shared his wish.
Harry filled in his old friend on everything that had been happening. Hagrid was appropriately shocked and perplexed. When Harry reached the part where Cornelius Fudge refused to believe that the Dark Mark was the work of Voldemort's Death Eaters, and seemed eager to release Veronica without protection Hagrid exploded with indignation.
"To think he wanted yeh back out in th' city!" He fumed, gesturing wildly at Veronica. "Might as well hand yeh over teh them Death Eaters…that stupid git! An' thinking Harry was crazy again most likely…an' after all that happened last year…"
"What did happen last year?" Veronica peered at Hagrid intently.
"Erm…" Hagrid threw a sidelong glance at Harry who was gazing fixedly at the hearth, his spectacles flashing in the firelight, and saying nothing. His mouth was set in a firm straight line. "Maybe now is not th' best time," he continued gruffly. "Now when it's all so close…" He trailed off and would say no more. Veronica just nodded. But her mind was buzzing with half-formed thoughts and hunches.
Somehow, she watched Harry
as he silently sipped his tea. This all is connected in some way…the
scar…Voldemort…and him.
With a sudden sick feeling in her stomach, she realized that, like it or not, she too was caught up in this whole mysterious drama. I need to know, Veronica decided, with a determined gleam in her eyes. I need to know what I have to do with all of this…
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Hermione squeezed out a liberal amount of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, and rubbed it in between her palms. She applied it to her head, and watched as her usually bushy brown hair became flat and shiny. Remembering how pleasantly surprised she had been the year before by the results, Hermione sighed nostalgically. The Yule Ball last year had been loads of fun.
"Ron is such a hopeless prat!" She burst out suddenly to herself, and she smoothed out her periwinkle blue dress robes.
"Aren't they all, honey?" the mirror responded disdainfully. "Don't worry…we don't need them."
Hermione sighed again. This year it looked like she would be going to the ball single. Of course she and Ron hadn't talked since their yelling match at breakfast. That was one thing about Ron; along with being fiercely loyal (he was always the first to come to her defense) he was also extremely hotheaded and stubborn. He flatly refused to attempt any verbal communication with her for the entire week, and had Harry act as translator whenever it was completely necessary that he address her. Hermione decided that he had aged backward to about seven. She still couldn't believe how he reacted when she told him about Victor…she felt herself shaking with anger again just by thinking about it. In fact, she had half a mind to owl Victor and ask him to come with her to the ball…she had only just met him a couple of hours earlier at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. He had seemed exactly like he was last year, intelligent, serious, and interesting. He was just so much older than Ron; it was a maturity that went beyond just their difference in age. He was staying nearby in a hotel…she was sure he would jump at the invitation…and it would be worth it all to see the look on Ron's face as Victor called her My Herm -own-ninny…
But something held her back. To take Victor would just be really unfair and spiteful, she decided. She didn't want to use a friend like that just to get even.
But at the least, Hermione
thought as she began to apply some of the cosmetics that she borrowed from
Parvati. I'm going to make sure that I have fun tonight. Can't let Ron ruin
everything…
Veronica burst into the bathroom. "What do you think?" she asked anxiously, spinning around.
"You look great," Hermione said smiling. Veronica's long dark hair was piled dramatically on top of her head, and little irises were pinned into the plaits. Her long, silky navy blue robes clung to her slim figure perfectly, and her face shone with excitement.
"You do too!" Veronica grinned. "I love your hair…how did you get it like that?"
"Sleekeazy's Hair Potion," she tossed the bottle to Veronica and waited for her to ask why she didn't wear her hair straight everyday.
"Cool…but it would probably a pain to do it up like that every morning," Veronica said wisely, looking at the bottle. Hermione grinned, realizing why she had become such good friends with her.
"So…" Veronica hesitated. "Have you talked to Ron yet?"
Hermione frowned. "Why should I be the one to talk to him?" She demanded curtly.
Veronica threw up her hands. "Aw c'mon Herm," she looked at her friend wearily. "You aren't going alone over a stupid fight, are you?"
Hermione's folded arms, and set face indicated that she was. "Whatever," Veronica sighed. "Let's just go."
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They met Harry and Ron at the head of the stairs. Harry was giving his hair a final run through with his comb; the fact that it was slightly flatter than usual was the result of long, hard labor and entire bottle of Slickeaze Hair Gel. Ron stood there glowering, looking as if he had been dragged against his will. Despite her anger, Hermione noticed that he had gotten new dress robes; they were a dusky gray with black trim and looked rather nice. Harry was in his brilliant bottle-green dress robes, a shade that as Mrs. Weasley predicted, "brought out the color of his eyes."
Harry offered his arm, and Veronica took it. Ron and Hermione trailed after them down the staircase, clutching the handrails on opposite sides.
"I'm only here because Harry, Fred, and George all said they would pound me if I didn't come," Ron said suddenly. "So don't get any ideas."
"And there I was thinking that you've finally decided to act your age again," Hermione growled back. "How silly of me."
Ron's face went scarlet, but he didn't have anything else to add.
The Great Hall looked spectacular; Veronica gazed with shinning eyes at the walls which had been covering in sparkling, sliver frost as if little pixies where floating about the perimeter of the room. The usual long wooden tables had disappeared; in their place were smaller lantern-lit ones with white tablecloths. She followed the others to a table in the front, and sat down in a chair that Harry had politely pulled out for her. Staring up at the ceiling, Veronica looked at the brightly winking stars in the night sky. In a blaze of brilliance a shooting star zoomed past overhead. At the staff table, Dumbledore raised his glass, and everyone began to order food. Veronica gasped with surprise as the roast chicken she ordered suddenly appeared on her plate.
"Nice service huh?" Fred winked. He had joined them, along with his date Angelina. Fred had managed to regain her favor by a moonlight serenade and twelve long stem roses. His twin George sat across the table with Katie Bell.
"Too bad it is all the result of slave labor," Hermione said quite primly.
"What do you mean?" Veronica asked taking a bite of chicken. Nearly all of the company groaned.
"Don't even get her started," Ron growled. "All of that S.P.E.W. rot."
"Talking to me again, are you Ron? How lovely."
A rather unpleasant silence followed.
As soon as everyone was done eating, Dumbledore stood and gestured to all of the students to do the same. With a flick of his wand, all of the tables were pushed back against the wall. The lanterns dimmed and a raised platform appeared. Five young, clean-cut wizards took the stage. They wore matching, see-through gauze like silver robes and tight black leather pants. Loud shrieking echoed across the hall as most of the girls rushed forward.
"Oh my god!" A teary eyed fourth year Hufflepuff squealed. "I didn't know they booked them! Donny is so dreamy…look at his eyes! He's so sensitive!"
"No I like J.D. the best!" Her friend objected. "He is such a rebel!"
"Who are they?" Veronica and Harry both asked simultaneously.
Ron groaned. "The Warlock Boys. Or as they are more commonly known WLB." He shook his head wearily, grimacing. "Some American boy band. Ginny's got all of them posted up in her room. And the posters sing you know…I spend the whole summer trying to block it out."
"Well sucky music or not, we might as well dance," Veronica suggested, shrugging.
So she ventured out onto the dance floor with Harry. The song WLB was signing was rather upbeat (You've got the love potion …baby…keeps me in motion…) and despite Parvati's dark hints, Harry wasn't that bad of a dancer. Well he could be better…Veronica didn't know what he was trying to accomplish with that weird jerky hip move…but all in all she was having a great time. The next song was a slow one (You charmed me girl…your love is true…just don't know what I'm going to do…You charmed me girl and that's no lie…don't leave me baby or I'll die…) Veronica felt Harry's hands resting on her hips, as her arms were draped around his neck. They slowly revolved around the brightly lit dance floor gazing in one another's eyes.
"Harry?" Veronica asked softly.
"Yes," He answered looking down into her dark eyes.
"I just wanted to know…" But her question was broken off by a sharp outcry of protest. Harry and Veronica let go of one another to see what was going on. Professor McGonagall had apparently deemed Fred and Angelina to be dancing too close, and had separated the steamy couple with a well-aimed flick of her wand.
"Aw, Professor McGonagall," Fred wheedled.
"No buts Mr. Weasley!" She insisted quite sternly. She took her chaperon duties as seriously as her teaching responsibilities. "If I cannot even fit my wand between the two of you…you are dancing much too closely together!"
Fred and Angelina stalked off with pouty looks on their faces. Veronica caught Fred mumbling something about some bushes outside. Veronica raised a suggestive eyebrow at Harry, only half in earnest. "Not with Snape out there," he grinned mischievously in reply.
"Oh well," she sighed with mock disappointment. "At least we can something to drink then." They walked over to the punch bowl. As Veronica drank, she saw Hermione over in the corner slumped against the wall. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ron looking equally as miserable on the opposite wall.
"Doesn't look like they're having much fun," Veronica said. "Have you tried to talk to Ron, Harry?"
"I did, but he was being a prat, as he always is when it comes to her." Harry answered.
"Well I've tried to talk to Hermione already…maybe I can make 'ol Ron see some reason. I'll be back in a sec, ok?"
"Good luck." Harry said unenthusiastically. He knew from experience that with Ron and Hermione his conciliatory efforts were usually wasted.
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Ron looked up with surprise; Veronica was approaching him with a resolute gleam in her dark eyes, her heels stomping dully on the wooden floor. She stood in front of him with her hands on her hips.
"Ron!" She exploded. "Why don't you just make up with her?"
"Why should I be the one…" He began, but was cut off.
"Oh God!" Veronica flung her arms up in exasperation. "That was the exact same thing Hermione said earlier! You guys are so perfect for each other that it's sickening. Go talk to her!"
"She didn't even really want to go with me," Ron grumbled darkly. "You saw her as soon as Vicky owled her…she only wanted to keep the date out of pity…"
"Well you are acting very pitiful right now," Veronica said evenly. "I don't know Hermione all too well, but I think that if she didn't want to go with you in the first place she would have said so. I mean look at her." Veronica pointed at Hermione who was sullenly staring off into the dance floor. "She looks miserable. And you look miserable. So either you can stay here and pout, wallowing in your self-pity, and thinking oh poor me I'm not good enough to have a fun time because I am a hopeless loser, or you can go over an apologize and enjoy your adolescence while it lasts. I think I know which option I would choose." With that she spun around on her heel and marched back over to the punch bowl. Ron stood as if frozen, a look of astonishment on his pale, freckled face. He gulped, and with a deep breath made up his mind. Cutting across the dance floor, he stopped right in front of Hermione. She eyed him levelly.
"What d'you want?" She asked coolly.
Ron felt the boiling anger rise up in him. With great difficulty he suppressed it. "I came to apologize," he said gruffly.
"Oh have you?" Hermione folded her arms defiantly.
"Well what else do you want me to say?" Ron burst out sarcastically. "I'm sorry oh superior goddess, I've acted like a complete prat, please allow me to bend down and kiss the hem of your robes…"
"Well that might be a start. A lack of sarcasm would be most preferable."
Ron shook his head, his freckles standing out on his livid face. "Alright! I've had enough…this is the last time I ever try to apologize to you," he spat out. He swung around in fury.
"Ron, wait," Hermione called out guiltily. He turned around slowly. She had a wistful, pleading look in her brown eyes. She looked beautiful there, her hair gleaming in the lamplight, the blue periwinkle robes floating about her, her soft dark eyes glistening with tears. Ron suddenly felt all shaky and weak inside. She held out a long slender arm. "Ron…I…"
But she never completed her sentence. Her eyes met his; they gleamed with an intense blue, like the hottest part of a flame. He rushed towards her furiously, Hermione cowered, startled by the furor of his emotion. It was like a rushing torrent, bursting from the floodgate. Grabbing her roughly by the waist, he drew her into him, embracing her, almost crushing her with the force. His lips locked with hers, a kiss full of passion and desperate desire. Hermione shivered with the sheer force of it all, melting into his arms. Then they slowly drew apart, sweaty and breathless.
"Ron…I…what…what…" Hermione spluttered, in utter confusion. She had imagined what her first kiss would be like…but never in her wildest fantasies had she pictured this. She faintly heard clapping and cheering echoing across the Great Hall. "What was that all about?"
"I said I would never apologize to you again," He answered sheepishly. And suddenly he was Ron again…tall, awkward, reassuring Ron whom she thought she had known so well. His ears were beet red, and he was squirming rather embarrassedly. "So I had to come up with something else."
"So you think you can just…kiss me like that in front of everyone and expect me to think that everything is all right between us?" Hermione was aghast.
"Well pretty much, yes."
"Ron, you are a hopeless prat!" But she was grinning despite herself. Ron looked down at her and a hopeful smile crossed his face. "So you'll dance with me then?"
"I guess," Hermione said airily. She took his arm, and he led her to the dance floor. He was so much taller than him that she had to lean her forehead on his shoulder.
"So…er…" Ron asked after a few moments. "How was it? This kiss I mean."
Hermione gazed up at him, a devilish grin playing across her lips. "Oh well…I guess it was alright," she scoffed indifferently.
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Veronica slowly approached Harry. At the moment, he seemed rather occupied; Colin Creevy had spotted him and was eagerly chatting him up with the air of an excited puppy. His date happened to be Ginny who seemed mortified. Veronica was trying to find a polite way to break into the conversation.
"Looks like you're late for the meeting of the Fan Club," a lazy voice commented from behind. Veronica turned around and raised an eyebrow.
Draco Malfoy eyed her with his indolent gaze. He was wearing black robes, with shimmering sliver hems, and a high collar. He looked very dramatic, his flaxen blonde hair slicked back, accenting his sharp aquiline features. His steel gray eyes gleamed in the lamplight.
"So we meet again," Veronica said coolly. "Last time I believe we left off…where? Oh yes…you were asking me out. I think you almost reeled me in when you got to talking about your broom…"
"Ah sarcasm," Draco sighed. "It appears the student has become the master. You've got a wit to match your loveliness. Would you like to dance?"
"Ok what part of Harry and is my date don't you understand? I thought we went through this already."
"Probably the is my date part," Draco replied, apparently unruffled by her flat refusal. "That is definitely hard to comprehend…and on so many levels."
"Well I suppose I'll just have to leave you to figure it out." Veronica turned to look for Harry, but Ron and Hermione who were asking him something had dragged him off. Veronica sighed deeply.
"Looks like Potty's gone," Draco drawled. Veronica felt like it would wonderful to strangle him, just to see if he would still be drawling then. "Off with Mudblood and Muggle-lover as usual."
"Ok, what exactly is a Mudblood anyway?" Veronica asked, annoyed on Hermione's behalf and frustrated that she couldn't seem to get Harry alone.
"What, you don't know."
"Enlighten me. I am not as up on my British slang as I should be."
"Well a Mudblood," Draco said the word with a fair amount of venom. "Is a wizard born from two muggle parents. Shameful really…my father always talks about how degrading it is that Dumbledore lets such people come here. At Durmstrang you know they only let pure bloods in…the only proper way to do it I say."
Veronica didn't have the faintest idea what Durmstrang was, but at the moment she didn't really care. "And what exactly," she pressed on, her voice like ice. "Is wrong with muggles anyway?"
"Oh no not you too," Draco shook his head regretfully. "So many people are sympathetic towards the muggles these days…its like a disease. You would never catch me caring anything about them…they're a disgusting, inferior lot. I mean they are like a step down on the evolutionary scale, they can't even do magic! Any respectable wizard would not get near them…their inadequacy might be contagious you know. Once the blood is tainted," Draco said darkly. "Nothing can make it right again."
By this point Veronica's eyes were flashing with an uncontrollable rage. She considered herself to have a pretty chill temper; she didn't get mad or excited usually and a sarcastic remark was all that she normally needed to get even with people. But now she was so furious that she couldn't even see straight.
"Inferior!" She spat out. Draco gaped at her. "A step down on the evolutionary scale! You arrogant, bigoted, scrawny, underfed rodent!" By this time half of the Great Hall was gawking at the scene. Harry was already rushing over to her side. But Veronica could care less.
Draco on the other hand was taken completely aback. "What?" He spat out, flabbergasted. "What did I say?"
"Too much, you little snotty bastard!"
Veronica shot back. "Just so you know…I would never do anything with you, even
if they paid me…I wouldn't ever want to be associated with such a disgusting
lowlife! And," she glared at him, her eyes like sharp daggers. "Just so you
know…with all your talk of purity and stuff…I'll have you know that I am a
muggle! And from the looks of it…you were coming on to me pretty strong…I
hope you don't catch my contagious inadequacy you little shit!"
The Great Hall filled with shocked gasps. Harry stood by Veronica's side, and grasped her hand with a firm, reassuring grip, his knuckles white with tension. Draco just stood stock still, he face flashing with mortification…never had he been so embarrassed in front of the entire school…he didn't even have a witty comeback. He stared in silent shock at Veronica…she was so beautiful, he dark eyes glinted like fire with her wrath, her dark hair falling out of the carefully arranged plaits…but he shuddered with revulsion, she was a muggle. All of this time, he had been fooled, hoodwinked…by a common dirty muggle. There she was…standing triumphantly…next to that prat Harry Potter…he wanted her to pay for this outrage…to come crawling back to him on her hands and knees so he could squash her like the little worthless ant that she was…Draco's carefully crafted control fell from him. His gray eyes flashed dangerously, glinting and cracking, like the melting of ice. All he could sense was blinding fury and rage. Slowly he drew his wand out of his pocket and pointed menacingly at Veronica.
Oh she'll crawl to me, he thought wildly. She'll beg at my feet…
"Imeperio." He hissed.
Sparks flew from his wand at Veronica. But she just blinked and stared back at him perplexed. Draco gasped, a sharp intake of breath. His dad had taught him all of the Unforgivables after his first year at Hogwarts…the Cruciatus Curse sometimes gave him a bit of trouble…and he had not actually ever tried the Avada Kedavra Curse…but the Imperious Curse was his specialty. Even his dad had given him reluctant praise on the way he had been able to control the house elves with it. But with Veronica there had been nothing…not even the internal struggle that came with those who could resist it. He took a deep breath, to resolve his quavering nerves and raised his wand for a second try…
"Stupefy!"
"Impedimenta!"
"Expelliarmus!"
Draco Malfoy flew backwards several inches from the blast, and fell to the floor unconscious. His wand soared through the air in a high arc, and Harry caught it. He, Hermione, and Ron all still had their wands pointed at Draco.
"Explain." The voice was a cold a death. Mrs. McGonagall stood, her hands on her hips, a tiny blue vein twitching in her neck. She had a look that would have made a Blasted-End-Skwert slink away in terror.
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Well that's all for now! Please review! I have got so much cooked up for next time…Snape, Lucius, and Sirius will all play an important role. Until then review! Even if you just want to say that Draco should be in leather pants next time! Anything at all! They make me so happy and motivate me. And thanks again to all of you lovely people who have been reviewing – it means so much to me! Until next time…