Disclaimer: This story contains characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Inc. and AOL/Time Warner, Inc., and may incorporate ideas created and/or owned by other third parties including but not limited to Joss Whedon. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
The ministry car that Lucius had laid on for Draco came to a halt outside King's Cross, and he ambled out looking a bit more respectable now that he'd stashed his dirty robes in his trunk. Unfortunately for the female population of Hogwarts, he'd had enough room in the back of the car to fumble his way into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and was now trying to see what kind of mess he was in by peering at the car window. The driver, a Squib by the name of Andrew something-or-other dumped Draco's trunk at his feet and hopped back into the car, driving off without a word.
Draco sighed and cast a simple spell on his trunk, walking into the station with it bobbing along behind him in what he thought was a rather inconspicuous manner. When Muggles started gasping in surprise and pointing, he hastily undid the spell and made do with dragging it along the ground behind him, finding a toilet and hurrying in.
"Geez, you'd think this was some kind of freak show..." he muttered, walking over to the nearest mirror. Normally Draco enjoyed (but never admitted he did) looking in mirrors, but as he stared back at a battered and bloodied version of himself, he let out a gasp. His cheek was already beginning to bruise and his face was covered in scratches, with a particularly nasty cut near his eye, which he suspected was caused by the twig. Luckily, the collar of his t-shirt hid some of the long bruises on his neck, obviously shaped like fingerprints.
If Draco was a house-elf, he probably would have cried something like "Eeeek!", and if he was Hermione he'd be healing himself by now. Unfortunately, he had no desire to cry out like a girl and he didn't know any healing spells, so he quickly gave his face a wash to get rid of the dirt smudges and dried blood before sorting his hair out with a little Glamour Spell (no, Draco couldn't heal injuries, but he could save you from even the worst bad hair days) and picked up his trunk, heading for the train.
He sauntered through the barrier, and came face to face with The Boy Who Lived.
"Get out of the way, Potter." snapped Draco, groaning inwardly as he realised the Potterettes (namely Weasel and Smart-Arse-Granger) were there too.
"Don't you talk to Harry like that!" piped up Hermione.
"Oh shut up," retorted Draco, snapping. His day was going badly enough without a confrontation with the school's Support the Mudbloods Foundation. "Shouldn't you be off conquering evil Potter? You know, getting people killed, that kind of thing?"
Ron's ears turned pink as Harry paled, casting his eyes downwards. Draco pushed through them and swaggered towards the train as Hermione held Ron back, squealing about how it wasn't worth it.
Draco dumped his trunk and walked into the usual compartment he shared with the other Slytherins. Pansy let out a gasp while Crabbe and Goyle just stared at him dumbly as he collapsed into a seat, rubbing his head which was now pounding painfully with the onset of a headache.
"What happened to face?" asked Crabbe, scratching his own head and looking remarkably like a chimp. Draco racked his brains for a suitable excuse, one to change the subject while remaining understandable to his one brain celled friends.
"I fell of my chair at breakfast this morning." he answered tonelessly, looking at Crabbe with his 'don't press it' look.
"Aren't chairs somewhat... close to the ground?" asked Pansy curiously.
"Yes." snapped Draco.
"Oh, ok."
A loud explosion sounded in the last Hogwarts Express compartment as Fred and George's Exploding Snap card tower spontaneously combusted, showering Harry, Hermione, Ron & Ginny with sparks and singeing Fred's eyebrows. Hermione, however, was fuming about something other than the racket the twins were making.
"Honestly, that Malfoy is sick! Remember what he said at the end of last year? And now this! Poor Harry has been through enough this year - " she yelled, stomping up and down the aisle. Harry, for a change, was huddled in a corner, unusually quiet and pale looking. Apparently Hermione was right, Harry had been through an awful lot this year and Malfoy's comment certainly hadn't made him feel much better. Quite the opposite, really.
"Hermione, calm down." instructed Ron, "It's Malfoy. He's always been an insufferable git. We'll just have to ignore him. Either that or I'll do something about it. I'll sort him out if you like."
"Oh yeah?" asked Hermione incredulously, rounding on Ron, "What are you going to do?"
"Something damn well brave and manly." answered Ron, puffing with pride in a most Percy-like manner. Fred and George sniggered while Hermione threw her arms into the air in exasperation, collapsing into a seat beside Harry.
"It's okay, Herm." he said quietly, "Ron's right. Malfoy's just an arsehole."
"Harry!" exclaimed Hermione, scandalised. "Language! Honestly, what would Dumbledore think?"
"Who cares?" mumbled George, slapping Fred on the wrist as he tried to put another card on their quickly growing new tower, "Don't put that on you git, are you trying to cook me?"
"Sorry."
The group sat quietly for a while, Ginny throwing nervous glances at Harry and blushing while Fred and George discussed the pranking year ahead in low tones. Harry just stared despondantly out of the train window, watching as green scenery whizzed by in a blur. Finally, Hermione couldn't stand it anymore.
"That's it," she cried, standing up, "I'm going to find Malfoy."
And with that, she stormed out of the compartment leaving Harry and Ron open-mouthed as Fred and George muttered, "Girls."
"On behalf of my gender -- you two are stupid... gits!" snapped Ginny, flouncing out of the compartment to find Colin.
"Geez, what's with her?" asked Fred, wide-eyed.
"Who knows? But I do know this - we say 'git' far too often." replied George solemnly.
Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent and Pansy were acting very odd, all staring at Draco expectantly as if they were waiting for him to spontaneously combust.
"What?" he snapped, slicing through the silence with his tongue, which was, as usual, sharp as a knife.
"Nothing." mumbled Pansy, casting a nervous glance in Millicent's direction.
Goyle was still staring at Draco dumbly, while the other three were desperately trying not to. Crabbe was whistling and peering out the window, and Pansy was now pretending to read a book. Draco, sharp-eyed as ever, noticed that it was upside down and rolled his eyes. He put their weird behaviour down to nerves due to the whole return of Voldemort situation, or the fact he was sitting in front of them, battered and looking like a psychotic thug. Draco was horrified to find Goyle becoming quite interested in his neck, and he quickly covered it up with his collar. He didn't want anyone writing to his father saying he'd almost been strangled, and having Lucius find out he'd been in the room he was forbidden to enter.
"Stop it."
"Huh?" mumbled Goyle.
"You were looking at my neck."
"What?"
"You were checking out my neck. I saw you."
"No, I wasn't."
"Just keep your distance, pal."
"I wasn't looking at your neck."
"For goodness sake, Draco." sighed Millicent, her beady black eyes rolling heavenward, "What would Goyle want with your neck?"
"Uh..." stuttered Draco, looking from Goyle to Millicent, and back.
His pathetic attempt at a subject change was interrupted suddenly as the compartment door crashed open, bouncing off the wall with enough force to scare the crap out of Pansy, who squealed loudly and covered her eyes.
Hermione Granger stormed in, already dressed in her robes and hat with a look that could kill on her face. Her bushy hair was sticking out from under the brim of her hat, and her ears were very pink indeed. Apparently she had the same anger management problem as Weasley.
"Malfoy." she snapped, "I want to talk to you. Now."
"Why would you want to talk to Draco?" asked Pansy suspiciously, her eyes travelling from Draco's expression of indifference to Hermione's one of anger.
"It's alright Pansy; she just wants to berate me for a little remark fired in Potter's direction. It's not like we're going to have a conversation." replied Draco, standing up to face Hermione while Pansy breathed an all too obvious sigh of relief. Hermione shuddered as Draco stood over her at his full height, which was, incidently, a fair few inches taller than her. He stared into her eyes with his own stormy grey ones with a disconcerting look of intensity that sent shivers down Hermione's spine. She was used to Draco's eyes; she'd spent the better part of her first four years at Hogwarts glaring at him only to see a cold, cruel look of indifference. But now the look in his eyes was vastly different, there was something not quite right. It wasn't fear she saw, but a distinct air of suspicion. When she broke his gaze and allowed her eyes to travel over the painful bruises on his face and neck, she caught a look of fear from Draco and she had to swallow the cry of triumph attempting to rise from her throat.
"What. do. you. want." drawled Draco slowly, immediately erecting a barrier around himself, hiding both the look in his eyes and the air of fear and suspicion surrounding him. Hermione bit back a cry of frustration at how quickly the real Draco Malfoy had been ripped away from her. She settled for giving him a look that had "I don't want to yell at you in here." stamped all over it, and turned on her heel, storming out of the compartment. Maybe if she caught him alone, he'd let his defences down again. Hermione would never admit it, but she was desperate to find out what made Draco Malfoy tick, and to find out why he was so cold, so sarcastic and so very much like his father.
Draco was torn between a good fight with Granger and an almost peaceful train ride to Hogwarts, but his Malfoy nature won in the end. He was never one to turn down a good fight, but only if his opponent was weaker than him. Plus, he was beginning to feel very edgy sitting in this particular compartment, so he followed Hermione out into the little hallway that separated the compartments and snapped the door shut. Hermione was on him in an instant.
"Malfoy, what the hell do you think you're playing at?" she spat, looking up at him with a disgusted look in her eyes.
"I don't know what you're talking about Granger." he replied nonchalantly.
"Yes you do. After everything Harry's been through, and you make a horrible little remark like that... do you have any idea how he feels? Do you? Do you have any idea what he's been through?"
"Don't expect me to apologise, Granger. I don't apologise. In case you hadn't noticed, there are people who've been through a hell of a lot more than Potter!" yelled Draco, his drawl collpasing in ruins. Hermione saw her chance, and jumped to it like a dog with a squeaky toy and a stragetically placed hoop.
"People like you?"
Draco stared at her for the briefest of moments, a grim expression of coldness set on his face and empty eyes.
"Granger, go away. I don't have time for this." he answered calmly.
"Time for what?" asked Hermione innocently. She instantly regretted pressing Draco as he snapped, angrily yelling his unexpected reply.
"Time for what? You know exactly what I'm talking about! I don't have time for you right now, because so far, I'm having a really crappy day. For one, I get seven shades of shit scared out of me by a psychotic house-elf staring at me in a hallway a la Danny Torrance, then stumbling into what I thought was a fairly normal room only to come this close to bumping into the fucking lion, the witch and the wardrobe and almost getting killed. And now, to top it all off, you're trying to get inside my bloody head! Just get lost, Granger."
Hermione stared at Draco, startled. He stormed back into his compartment and slammed the door, and she was left to ponder what he'd just said in shocked silence before making her way back to Harry & Co.
As Hermione walked back into her own compartment deep in thought, it took a few seconds of Ron waving his hand in front of her face to snap her out of it. She sighed and flopped down onto a seat between Ron and Harry.
"What did he say?" asked Ron curiously.
"Huh?"
"Malfoy."
"Uh... I didn't find him." lied Hermione, hastily changing the subject, "Where's Ginny?"
"Oh, she went to find Colin Creevey." replied Ron, tossing Hermione a Chocolate Frog. Harry, who seemed in higher spirits, probably after a 'Malfoy Is Just A Git' lecture from Ron, piped up.
"Yeah, and the twins have gone to find Lee. Apparently he managed to smuggle some Cornish Pixies onto the train."
Ron sniggered, and Hermione pushed all thoughts of Draco from her mind, suggesting a game of Exploding Snap.
Later that evening, Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table with Harry, Ron, Ginny and the twins, breathing a sigh of relief as the Sorting ended. She was glad to see that Harry had put the Malfoy incident behind him and was acting very much the way she was used to him doing, despite having been locked up in the Dursleys all summer for 'his protection'. He hadn't been allowed to stay with the Weasleys, and was still bitter about the way owl post had been strictly monitored, so he hadn't been writing to 'Snuffles'. The Ministry were forced to accept the return of Voldemort, when, in the first week of the holidays, he killed forty Muggles in Edinburgh. A few well placed memory charms pinned the massacre on a terrorist bomb, but the wizarding world knew better.
Fortunately, the wizarding world had escaped the holidays unscathed, but everyone was now on the edge of their seats, fearing the unknown. Hermione had spent the whole of her holidays cooped up in her house, terrified. She was extremely glad to be back at Hogwarts, and had managed to convince Professor Dumbledore via owl that her parent's house should be made unplottable. He'd agreed, after all, she was very close to Harry Potter.
Hermione snapped out of her thoughts as Professor Dumbledore rose to speak and McGonagall hurried away with the Sorting Hat. She smiled weakly at the new Gryffindors, who were sitting trembling, staring over to the Slytherin table with looks of fear in their eyes. Hermione sighed. Gryffindors were meant to be brave, but even she was feeling a bit uneasy with the Slytherins in the same room. They were all sitting at their table, glaring at everyone else in the hall with their heads held high and looks of superiority on their faces. Hermione was used to this, albeit at a smaller scale, but the aura of power that cloaked the Slytherins was almost too much for even her to handle. There were only two exceptions, and that was Malfoy and Snape. Draco was looking a little paler than usual, and the bruises and scratches made him seem so much more vulnerable. Snape, on the other hand, looked nothing short of terrified, although Hermione noted he was hiding it well. Even paler than usual, his intensely dark eyes were darting around the hall and Hermione noticed they had dark rings under them. Professor Dumbeldore was giving him sympathetic glances, and Hermione seriously considered giving him one of her own.
"Welcome students, to another year at Hogwarts." said Dumbledore gravely, with a sad smile, "A year which promises danger, and the very real possibility of death. However, what will happen will happen and we are best worrying about the present, not what the future may bring. And on that note, I would like to present to you our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Allbright."
Everyone clapped politely as a wizened little witch with unruly, mousy colored hair and little round spectacles stood up from her seat at the far end of the table. Short and a little chubby, she looked perfectly normal in comparison with the previous teachers; Quirrell with his ridiculous purple turban, Lupin the werewolf and Mad-Eye Moody the, well, weird one. As Professor Allbright took her seat, the golden dishes on the four house tables filled with delicious looking food, and everyone tucked in.
"Hey, Harry, looking forward to Quidditch this year?" asked Seamus Finnigan through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
"Yeah." answered Harry with a grin, his glasses slipping down his nose. Hermione silently scolded herself for even thinking there was anything wrong, and told herself not to be paranoid. They were at Hogwarts now. Where they were supposed to be. Everything is the way it's meant to be - thought Hermione, We're a hundred percent, super duper safe.
Draco picked at his food as the rest of his housemates stuffed themselves, Grabbe and Goyle managing to make a great deal of mess while doing so. Peering round the table, he noticed that a few people weren't there this year. Blaise Zabini, for one, but that was old news. Apparently, she'd moved abroad because her step-father had gotten a new job while she was in second year. This year, however, Luke Smith was missing. He'd probably moved as well, thought Draco, but he was actually more concerned about having to share a room with just Crabbe and Goyle. And then there was Ophelia Hayes, who'd been the fourth girl in his year. Draco didn't know her or Luke very well, Ophelia was a Muggle born and Luke was a bit of an outcast really. Both of them had hung around only with each other, realised Draco now that he thought about it. He didn't know either of them at all. No great loss to the Slytherin House then.
Wishing that the feast would hurry up and end, Draco spent most of it trying to ignore the glares from the Hufflepuff table and tried not to look at the place where Cedric Diggory used to sit. Feeling just a little guilty, Draco tried to imagine what it must be like for them. He never even came close. What was even worse was the way he and his housemates seemed to be getting so much of the blame, something he thought was a great injustice. It's not like they were all Death Eaters, even the oldest were only about eighteen. What kind of eighteen year old was a Death Eater? What had also surprised Draco was the speed at which events unfolded. One minute the whole thing was one big game, making snide remarks and hiding behind his family. But now, in a matter of hours at the Triwizard Tournament, it had escalated into a full blown war. Draco had never even once entertained the thought of Voldemort returning. Who would? Not with Golden Boy Potter around. But from the minute Harry Potter left the maze, Draco's life had changed dramatically. His Father, for one, was hardly home at all. Draco wasn't complaining though, well, not until his father actually did come home, drunk and angry. So not a good combination. He was used to it by now, but he was not used to the constant stream of stony faced wizards coming in and out of the fireplace in the library. Once, he'd been catching up on some homework for lack of anything else to do when Professor Snape rolled out of the fire, covered in soot and looking very shifty indeed. Upon seeing Draco, he stuttered a few vowel sounds and fled the library, leaving Draco sniggering into his Transfiguration textbook.
Draco was now convinced someone was messing with time, because it seemed like hours since he'd arrived at Hogwarts. Breathing a sigh of relief when the plates and goblets were cleared, he hurriedly stood up and started making his way toward the Slytherin Common Room, not bothering to wait for Grabbe or Goyle. When he arrived at the large tapestry on a stone wall deep down in the heart of Hogwarts' dungeons, he was dismayed to find he hadn't even bothered to find out the password. Cramming his hands into his pockets and leaning against the wall, he practically melted into the darkness of the corridor. He was glad of this because, not for the first time today, he'd had a funny shiver run down his spine and a peculiar feeling of being watched. Hearing footsteps, he sank even deeper into the darkness of the corridor and held his breath.
About twenty sets of footsteps rounded a corner, and Draco was thoroughly freaked out to see most of his housemates walking down the corridor in rows, all perfectly in sync with each other, looking like zombies from some cheesy Muggle horror film. They came to a stop in front of the tapestry and someone at the front muttered the password, causing the 'tapestry' to swing open. They all filed into the common room with identical expressions on their faces and made their own way to their rooms. Draco shook his head and ran in after them, hurrying to his room. Ignoring Crabbe and Goyle, he jumped into his bed and hastily drew the curtains shut, muttering about weirdos.
- s e p t e m b e r 2nd-
When Draco woke up the next morning, he was relieved to find everything exactly the way it should be. Goyle was snoring loudly and the sound of running water alerted Draco to Crabbe having his rumoured yearly shower. Considerably happier than yesterday, he tumbled out of his bed and headed to the second of the two bathrooms in every Hogwarts dormitory.
Fifteen minutes later, a cleaner Draco Malfoy with dripping wet hair and fresh robes on was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror beside his bed inspecting his bruises and scratches. Crabbe had long since headed down to breakfast, and Goyle was just beginning to stir. It would appear Draco had no-one to heal him at the present moment, so he hurriedly dried his hair with a spell, berated Goyle for being lazy and sauntered down to the Common Room.
After frightening the new first years (who, in Draco's opinion, weren't up to much this year) with a glare and snapping sarcastically at a second year who mumbled "Excuse me." in his general direction, he finally felt ready to go to breakfast. He practically skipped down to the Hospital Wing, and probably would have if he was a Hufflepuff, because today was September second, he was Draco Malfoy, and what had happened yesterday had been pushed from his mind.
He arrived at the hospital wing whistling the Weird Sisters' new song, giving Madame Pomfrey the fright of her life. Turning on the natural Malfoy charm, he politely asked her to heal his cuts and bruises so he didn't have to face the 'accusing stares of other students when he was already well and truly traumatised after being the victim of an unprovoked house-elf attack'. Madame Pomfrey shook her head, tutted, and answered a clear 'No'.
"What?!" asked Draco.
"It's a new rule." replied Madame Pomfrey absently, brushing past Draco to straighten some sheets, "I'm not healing any injuries from fighting. If you're going to get yourself into trouble, you can get yourself out of it. Learn some simple healing spells and you'll be fine."
"But I want you to do it now!" whined Draco. Madame Pomfrey merely shook her head and went back to doing whatever it was she did until Potter got himself into one scrape or another.
"Stupid... person!" snapped Draco, kicking the nearest bed and storming out of the room. Madame Pomfrey gave a small shriek and rushed over to straighten the sheets again.
Hermione skipped down the stairs to the Common Room, breathing in deeply. She was sure that the familiar smell of Hogwarts was actually what magic smelled like; and every time she arrived in her favourite place after the holidays, she would delight in savouring the scent as long as she could before she became too used to it to notice it. She noticed a familiar mop of messy black hair sticking up at all angles from behind a chair, and she bounded over. Reaching over the chair, she put her two hands over Harry's glasses and giggled.
"Guess who?"
"Oh my God, it's a hyper Hermione!" cried Ron in mock terror, jumping up from his seat and cowering behind a confused Ginny, who was unfortunate enough to be walking past at the time.
Harry sniggered and stood up too, giving Hermione a quick "Calm down and get back to bookworm mode, you weird person." look before suggesting they head down to breakfast.
A few minutes later, the trio were about to enter the Great Hall and Ron was still teasing Hermione.
"Honestly." he laughed, "What were you thinking? 'Guess who?' That is sooooo Parvati and Lavender."
"Shut it, Ron." retorted Hermione, giving him a playful punch, "I was just happy to be back, that's all."
They sat down at the Gryffindor table, which was half empty. Students liked to sleep in late the first day back, but Hermione, Harry and Ron never really bothered. Hermione made a mental note to herself to smile at Snape today, but she knew fine well that she'd probably bottle out as soon as she saw the intensely cold look of impassiveness in his eyes. Severus Snape was not an easy man to smile at. She decided that every day this year, she would smile at someone who she felt needed it, and quickly concluded that she would be smiling at the Hufflepuffs, Malfoy and Snape a lot this year, because she smiled at Harry enough all ready.
Draco Malfoy sauntered into the Hall, and Hermione was not surprised to see he was back to his normal sarcastic self, and scolded herself for ever thinking the cuts and bruises made him look vulnerable. He looked anything but, looking more like a thug than anything else. Deliberately avoiding his gaze, she decided her smiles would be saved for Snape and the Hufflepuffs, who were still grieving Cedric. She flashed a grin at Justin Finch-Fletchley as he took his seat, and Justin smiled back. Hermione felt rather proud, and tucked into her breakfast with a lighter heart.
Ron, however, had a heavy heart. It dropped like a stone when McGonagall handed out their timetables and the words "Potions: To be taken with Slytherin House. Teacher - Professor Severus Snape" glared at him from his little square of parchment.
"Noooooooo." he whined, burying his head in his hands, "Not Snape!"
Hermione instantly fell into "Defence of Death Eater Spies, Grieving Hufflepuffs and People Who Have A 'Tough Time' At Home" mode, and shook her head, giving Ron a 'Tut tut'.
"Oh come on Hermione, you know you hate him as much as I do." retorted Ron.
"Actually Ron, I don't. It'd help if you remembered exactly who is and who isn't on our side."
And so it began. Harry watched in amazement as Ron walked straight into a massive debate with Hermione over Snape hating all Gryffindors, and as Ron put it, "Where the greasy old whinger's real loyalties lie.". They were still bickering all the way down to the dungeons for their first ever fifth year lesson, which, incidently, was Potions with Snape.
"Mister Weasley, I'm sure Miss Granger no doubt deserves your glare but if you want to pass Potions this year I suggest you look at the board." snapped Professor Snape. Ron grumbled and mouthed "See?" at Hermione before copying the writing off the board like everyone else.
Snape finished writing on the board and sat down at his desk, giving the Gryffindors a dirty look before picking up the class register. He sneered his way through the Gryffindors, but his expression changed to one of confusion as he scanned down the list of Slytherin names before peering curiously at the class. By now, they were all setting up their cauldrons, Neville trying to hold his steady as he trembled under the gaze of Snape.
"Does anyone know where Ophelia Hayes and Luke Smith are?"
The Gryffindors stared back at Snape, a few of them mouthing "Who?" to each other. A few of the Slytherins were looking quite smug, and Pansy Parkinson raised her hand.
"Sir, they don't like parties." she grinned. The Slytherins sniggered, with the exception of Draco who gave a gasp and knocked his cauldron over. It rolled over the cold stone floor coming to rest beside the feet of Snape, who raised a critical eyebrow.
"Draco, try to control yourself."
Stuttering something unintelligible, Draco grabbed his cauldron and hastily set it up on his desk, avoiding to gaze of many Slytherins who were still laughing quietly to themselves and the whole group of Gryffindors guffawing at his clumsiness.
"Silence!" roared Snape, and everyone shut up immediately, and hurriedly began to chop up their ingredients.
"You know, he would have took points off Neville for that." snarled Ron quietly, but Hermione just ignored him and threw her asphodel root into her cauldron with a "Humphhh!" as Harry shook his head in warning, nodding towards Snape.
"Do you think he suspects?" asked Pansy curiously, making her way over to the Slytherin table for lunch.
"No chance." replied Millicent plaintively, "But he will if you don't shut up about it."
Pansy nodded discreetly, plastered a saccharine smile on her face and flounced over to where Draco was sitting. He was picking at his food again, looking very ill. He flinched as Pansy screeched something that sounded a lot like "Ooooh, Millicent, come and sit with me." and tried to ignore her giggles. Apparently, he was the only one in the Great Hall who hadn't noticed the admiring looks he was getting from the girls at Hogwarts, most of them coming from Pansy herself. Hermione had already scolded Ginny for staring, and the fifth year Hufflepuff boys were muttering about show-offs under their breath.
"He looks so... different." breathed Ginny dreamily, totally forgetting she was sitting beside Harry Potter.
"Ginny, we all do."
"Yeah, but..."
There was no doubt about it, Draco had inherited his father's good looks. Silver blonde hair set him apart from everyone else, and his intense grey eyes, high cheekbones and pale skin gave him a distinct air of mystery, almost as if he didn't quite belong.
"Honestly." muttered Hermione, "People don't notice what's right in front of them. The more unattainable, the more attractive. It's shocking."
"Well, you can't get much more unattainable than Malfoy." remarked Ron, "I'll bet he's already got an arranged marriage with a Death Eater waiting for him when he graduates."
"You think so?" asked Ginny, eyes wide.
"Yes." replied Hermione solemnly.
"Oh. I'd best leave it then."
"Best leave it then? What were you going to do?" snorted Ron, "Ask him out? You can't even talk to Harry."
"Actually, Ron, I wasn't going to ask him out." spat Ginny, turning the color of her hair as Hermione edged away quietly. Getting in the way of a Weasley argument wasn't a smart move. "I was just going to ask him if he would like to go to the next dance with Colin Creevey's cousin. Who just happens to have a massive crush on him! And who, in case you were wondering, is in fifth year, a very good friend of mine and sitting over there at the Hufflepuff table!"
Ron squirmed uncomfortably as Ginny scowled at him with all the hate of Snape left to his own devices in the Gryffindor Common Room.
"And for your information," she continued, "I can talk to Harry. It's only the reason we've been writing to each other all summer!"
With that, the youngest Weasley pushed her chair back with a clatter and stormed out of the Great Hall. Harry was sitting grinning sheepishly, his cheeks tinged with pink as Ron and Hermione stared at him, eyebrows raised.
"What happened to Cho?" sniggered Hermione.
"Oh come on!" cried Harry, rolling his eyes, "I never fancied Cho."
"You've a cheek to talk." pointed out Ron, memories of he and Hermione's fight this morning still fresh in his mind, "You're the one who ran off to God knows where with Mister One-Eyebrow himself, Viktor 'I can't quite talk right' Krum!"
Hermione blushed furiously, but decided to take the attention from herself and rounded on Harry.
"So, what about you Harry? Are you going out with Ginny or what?"
All three of them sat in an awkward silence, peering at each other but trying to make it look like they weren't. Finally, Harry spoke.
"Er... let's just forget we had this conversation and go to Defence Against the Dark Arts."