My writing program's down... So I'm using an HTML editor to type. it's weird. I rely on the word count function, which doesn't exist. x.x And there's no damn spell (just as further evidence, 'spell' was originally 'speel') checker, either! So I'll be beta-ing as I post. Damn.
I've become newly addicted to JLC and Jay Clifford's magnificent vocals in particular. @.@
This part is dedicated to everyone who takes the time to review people's stories... Especially those of you who review the bad stories, and somehow think of good things to say. You guys are the coolest.
Well, here it be. Part three. And, I realize a few hundred words in, it appears that slash will once again have to wait, because of plot's hostile takeover. Damn. I'll see what I can do. Also, Draco gets a little nastier... And a bit nicer?
I went to see 'Lord of the Rings' on Tuesday Dec. 18 at midnight (or rather, Wednesday at 12:01 AM) and it was AMAZING! I love Elijah Wood and Legolas was cool. XD And it was just fucking astounding and I was so exhausted and I left my wallet and I got it back but they took the money out. Damn. x.x Least I still have my license.
"A Clockwork Neurosis"
Part Three: 'Fighting the Battle of Who Could Care Less'
Part three begun: December 10, 2001
Posted: February 09, '02 *wince*
[Will you never rest?
Fighting the battle of who could care less
Unearned unhappiness
It's all right, I guess...]
Ben Folds Five, 'Battle of Who Could Care Less'
It was easy, upon his return to school, to remember why he had acted so cold in the first place. With everyone once again fawning over Potter like he was plated with gold, Draco was reminded once again of why he so detested the very mention of the Boy Who Lived. And now, sitting unfortunately near to him in the Potions dungeon, Draco found he could not free his mind from the incidents of their first few meetings. Potter's frank rejection had been the first he'd experienced, at least from someone he'd actually cared about knowing. Never before had Draco Malfoy been denied something, particularly something he wanted, and all instinct had screamed for him to lash out, inflict pain on the source of the sharp pang that had flooded through his abdomen as Harry had replied.
And yet, he hadn't succeeded. Sure, he'd managed to wound Weasley and Granger, and Potter was humorously easy to rile up, but refused to be put down by even the most vicious of Draco's ribbing. So it had become a battle of who could care less, who could wound who the worst in each short, caustic encounter, who was the quickest with words or wands and who was left flushed angrily in the hallway. [1]
He'd been cornered that morning by an angry Harry Potter and equally disgruntled posse, who had apparently come simply to 'warn him off' - as it had been so succinctly put to him - Marcus Brown. Their not-so-menacing threat had been accompanied by an angry narrowing of vivid green eyes and a deep rumble from the dog standing guard next to him, one of the many changes this year, one of the many exceptions all for the Potter name. Dumbledore had announced at breakfast that morning that, in the interest of increasing security, all trips to Hogsmeade had been canceled until further notice. He had also told the apprehensive students that several aurors would be guarding the school - including the real Mad Eye Moody, Draco had noticed - and mentioned that a specially trained guard dog would be accompanying Harry Potter. He had reassured them that the dog, large and foreboding as he appeared, was actually quite friendly unless he sensed danger. And, they had been warned, he was quite good at his job. Draco was sure he'd sent a particularly meaningful look to the table full of scowling Slytherins with the last comment.
Aiming a glare at Potter's profile, it became apparent to Draco how much time he had spent in the past few years simply making his nemesis' life miserable. He had analyzed every aspect of the dark-haired boy, searching for chinks in the perfect facade. He could recite Potter's schedule for the past four years, and could only recall with difficulty his first year classes. He knew who Potter treated as a friend, who was a casual acquaintance, and who he regarded with a slight wariness. Knew of the slight preoccupation with Cho Chang, that Ravenclaw seeker who sent a brief twinge through him every time Draco saw her. [2] However, the girl had seemed to pass Harry up in favor of Cedric Diggory, for all the good that had done her...
Diggory. He had been stunned at the Hufflepuff's death, a more clear cut indication of Voldemort's rising than his father's gloating or idle, nonsense threats, whispered in the dark to faraway parties. Draco wasn't sure what to do. Lucius had made it abundantly clear for as long as Draco could remember that his only child would be a Death Eater, follow in his father's cowardly, slimy footsteps, which in turn slunk in the shadow of the greatest evil the wizarding world had ever faced. Draco himself had not, could not, would not form his own opinions on the matter.
He wouldn't deny he had luxury. It was pleasing, sometimes, to watch the reactions to his surname. When he had been smaller, he used to believe his father had been a hero, with a ready wand and great courage, the kind he read about in his bedtime stories. However, it had become obvious as he'd matured, into the painful awareness of his surroundings which struck all children, that the flitter of emotions contorting the faces of those who met him were not awe and respect, but rather fear, or even thinly veiled disgust that soon quailed under Lucius' pale stare.
Did he have that same glare himself, cold and benevolent as the deepest blizzard? Certainly he could stare down many of the students in the school, but he was uncomfortably aware that having the two biggest fifth years at Hogwarts at his shoulders had more than a minor part in the way other pupils avoided his eyes. He was not so arrogant that he was blind even to their obvious aid.
Besides, he reassured himself, people hated his father - and often himself by extension - because they were jealous. There was much to be envious of in the Malfoy name. Much the way, he thought with a scowl that tightened the corners of his grey eyes, that he had come to hate Harry Potter. He was not so unaware of himself that he didn't realize that jealousy half-drove his incessant badgering the green-eyed boy. There was also much to envy in Harry Potter... He had come to Hogwarts a stranger in a very strange world, and had almost immediately struck up a rapport with most he met, made two of the fastest friends a person could hope for, had most of the administration of the school wrapped around his little finger... And topped it all off with an amazing gift for Quidditch and a sort of innocent, endearing naiveté and -
He frowned, disliking immensely his current train of thought. Harry Potter was not better than him! He clutched at that resolve with the same desperation he had for four lost years, rejected and angry and hurt and left only with the resolve that his father had taught him - a Malfoy was superior - as his sense of identity.
Next to him, Crabbe and Goyle lumbered slowly up, collecting their supplies and waiting for him to join them. Apparently, class was over, and he'd paid no attention to Professor Snape's important directions. He'd have to read someone's, but the list of likely candidates was short. Perhaps he'd be paired with someone who had actually listened.
Potter passed in front of him, sandwiched between Weasley and Granger as usual. The red-haired boy glared as they walked past, and even calm, collected Granger eyed him with distaste, but Potter... Ignored him entirely. A slight flicker of those green eyes that almost immediately moved past, the same amount of recognition that Draco would give to a servant or a Muggle.
A swift arrow of anger shot through him at Potter's disdain. His archenemy hadn't even given him the same modicum of emotion that normally flooded through his bright eyes upon their meeting with Draco's. It had been, in fact, as though he hadn't even seen Draco, concentrating instead on some sort of inner...
Pain. That was it. Potter's eyes had slid right past him, eyelids heavy and mouth still, every line and muscle in his face indicating an almost palpable despair Draco hadn't noticed since immediately after the untimely end of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry Potter had barely registered Draco Malfoy, whom he normally could not pass without even a slight glare, because he was being torn up inside, most likely by guilt over something he had been told over and over wasn't his fault.
And so Draco Malfoy watched them go, and for the first time he could remember, a slight expression of worry flew over his aristocratic features, so quickly it was almost as though it had been chased by the sneer that fit into place in the concern's absence.
There! Vaguely slashy? Maybe? *hides* It's coming, I swear! I promise!!
Notes:
[1] Does anyone else know that Ben Folds Five song? I thought it was perfect. Originally, this part's song was something else, but this line occured to me as I was typing and I had to use it.
[2] And why could this be? Hmmmm? *falls over*
Shout Outs:
Kath: Thanks so much... That's exactly the type of review I want to get. *hugs*
Meitama-san: I don't think it's far-fetched, either... Just kinda randomly occured to me. ^^
ClarkeRaven: I shall deal more with the Sirius thing in the next chapter, when we're back to Harry. Thanks about the character somment... I was a bit uncertain, but comments like yours are strengthening my convinction.
ILLK: First to review part two! *flying glomp* Thanks!
Beloved: I agree. Plot is a key part of stories, so I try and work it in. *smile* Thanks a lot. The stuff with Dumbledore was difficult, I'm glad you think it works. BTW, 'Rainy Night in Soho' was great. XD
And Mizzy: ACK! I still need to review Your side... Shall be explained. Your last review made me laugh... Dialectizers are neat likkle thingies. ^^ Thanks so much for dedicating that part to me... *sniffru* I'm glad my badgering paid off.
Wow! A Plastic Tree song just came up with a Ryutarou skin! *dances*
I've become newly addicted to JLC and Jay Clifford's magnificent vocals in particular. @.@
This part is dedicated to everyone who takes the time to review people's stories... Especially those of you who review the bad stories, and somehow think of good things to say. You guys are the coolest.
Well, here it be. Part three. And, I realize a few hundred words in, it appears that slash will once again have to wait, because of plot's hostile takeover. Damn. I'll see what I can do. Also, Draco gets a little nastier... And a bit nicer?
I went to see 'Lord of the Rings' on Tuesday Dec. 18 at midnight (or rather, Wednesday at 12:01 AM) and it was AMAZING! I love Elijah Wood and Legolas was cool. XD And it was just fucking astounding and I was so exhausted and I left my wallet and I got it back but they took the money out. Damn. x.x Least I still have my license.
"A Clockwork Neurosis"
Part Three: 'Fighting the Battle of Who Could Care Less'
Part three begun: December 10, 2001
Posted: February 09, '02 *wince*
[Will you never rest?
Fighting the battle of who could care less
Unearned unhappiness
It's all right, I guess...]
Ben Folds Five, 'Battle of Who Could Care Less'
It was easy, upon his return to school, to remember why he had acted so cold in the first place. With everyone once again fawning over Potter like he was plated with gold, Draco was reminded once again of why he so detested the very mention of the Boy Who Lived. And now, sitting unfortunately near to him in the Potions dungeon, Draco found he could not free his mind from the incidents of their first few meetings. Potter's frank rejection had been the first he'd experienced, at least from someone he'd actually cared about knowing. Never before had Draco Malfoy been denied something, particularly something he wanted, and all instinct had screamed for him to lash out, inflict pain on the source of the sharp pang that had flooded through his abdomen as Harry had replied.
And yet, he hadn't succeeded. Sure, he'd managed to wound Weasley and Granger, and Potter was humorously easy to rile up, but refused to be put down by even the most vicious of Draco's ribbing. So it had become a battle of who could care less, who could wound who the worst in each short, caustic encounter, who was the quickest with words or wands and who was left flushed angrily in the hallway. [1]
He'd been cornered that morning by an angry Harry Potter and equally disgruntled posse, who had apparently come simply to 'warn him off' - as it had been so succinctly put to him - Marcus Brown. Their not-so-menacing threat had been accompanied by an angry narrowing of vivid green eyes and a deep rumble from the dog standing guard next to him, one of the many changes this year, one of the many exceptions all for the Potter name. Dumbledore had announced at breakfast that morning that, in the interest of increasing security, all trips to Hogsmeade had been canceled until further notice. He had also told the apprehensive students that several aurors would be guarding the school - including the real Mad Eye Moody, Draco had noticed - and mentioned that a specially trained guard dog would be accompanying Harry Potter. He had reassured them that the dog, large and foreboding as he appeared, was actually quite friendly unless he sensed danger. And, they had been warned, he was quite good at his job. Draco was sure he'd sent a particularly meaningful look to the table full of scowling Slytherins with the last comment.
Aiming a glare at Potter's profile, it became apparent to Draco how much time he had spent in the past few years simply making his nemesis' life miserable. He had analyzed every aspect of the dark-haired boy, searching for chinks in the perfect facade. He could recite Potter's schedule for the past four years, and could only recall with difficulty his first year classes. He knew who Potter treated as a friend, who was a casual acquaintance, and who he regarded with a slight wariness. Knew of the slight preoccupation with Cho Chang, that Ravenclaw seeker who sent a brief twinge through him every time Draco saw her. [2] However, the girl had seemed to pass Harry up in favor of Cedric Diggory, for all the good that had done her...
Diggory. He had been stunned at the Hufflepuff's death, a more clear cut indication of Voldemort's rising than his father's gloating or idle, nonsense threats, whispered in the dark to faraway parties. Draco wasn't sure what to do. Lucius had made it abundantly clear for as long as Draco could remember that his only child would be a Death Eater, follow in his father's cowardly, slimy footsteps, which in turn slunk in the shadow of the greatest evil the wizarding world had ever faced. Draco himself had not, could not, would not form his own opinions on the matter.
He wouldn't deny he had luxury. It was pleasing, sometimes, to watch the reactions to his surname. When he had been smaller, he used to believe his father had been a hero, with a ready wand and great courage, the kind he read about in his bedtime stories. However, it had become obvious as he'd matured, into the painful awareness of his surroundings which struck all children, that the flitter of emotions contorting the faces of those who met him were not awe and respect, but rather fear, or even thinly veiled disgust that soon quailed under Lucius' pale stare.
Did he have that same glare himself, cold and benevolent as the deepest blizzard? Certainly he could stare down many of the students in the school, but he was uncomfortably aware that having the two biggest fifth years at Hogwarts at his shoulders had more than a minor part in the way other pupils avoided his eyes. He was not so arrogant that he was blind even to their obvious aid.
Besides, he reassured himself, people hated his father - and often himself by extension - because they were jealous. There was much to be envious of in the Malfoy name. Much the way, he thought with a scowl that tightened the corners of his grey eyes, that he had come to hate Harry Potter. He was not so unaware of himself that he didn't realize that jealousy half-drove his incessant badgering the green-eyed boy. There was also much to envy in Harry Potter... He had come to Hogwarts a stranger in a very strange world, and had almost immediately struck up a rapport with most he met, made two of the fastest friends a person could hope for, had most of the administration of the school wrapped around his little finger... And topped it all off with an amazing gift for Quidditch and a sort of innocent, endearing naiveté and -
He frowned, disliking immensely his current train of thought. Harry Potter was not better than him! He clutched at that resolve with the same desperation he had for four lost years, rejected and angry and hurt and left only with the resolve that his father had taught him - a Malfoy was superior - as his sense of identity.
Next to him, Crabbe and Goyle lumbered slowly up, collecting their supplies and waiting for him to join them. Apparently, class was over, and he'd paid no attention to Professor Snape's important directions. He'd have to read someone's, but the list of likely candidates was short. Perhaps he'd be paired with someone who had actually listened.
Potter passed in front of him, sandwiched between Weasley and Granger as usual. The red-haired boy glared as they walked past, and even calm, collected Granger eyed him with distaste, but Potter... Ignored him entirely. A slight flicker of those green eyes that almost immediately moved past, the same amount of recognition that Draco would give to a servant or a Muggle.
A swift arrow of anger shot through him at Potter's disdain. His archenemy hadn't even given him the same modicum of emotion that normally flooded through his bright eyes upon their meeting with Draco's. It had been, in fact, as though he hadn't even seen Draco, concentrating instead on some sort of inner...
Pain. That was it. Potter's eyes had slid right past him, eyelids heavy and mouth still, every line and muscle in his face indicating an almost palpable despair Draco hadn't noticed since immediately after the untimely end of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry Potter had barely registered Draco Malfoy, whom he normally could not pass without even a slight glare, because he was being torn up inside, most likely by guilt over something he had been told over and over wasn't his fault.
And so Draco Malfoy watched them go, and for the first time he could remember, a slight expression of worry flew over his aristocratic features, so quickly it was almost as though it had been chased by the sneer that fit into place in the concern's absence.
There! Vaguely slashy? Maybe? *hides* It's coming, I swear! I promise!!
Notes:
[1] Does anyone else know that Ben Folds Five song? I thought it was perfect. Originally, this part's song was something else, but this line occured to me as I was typing and I had to use it.
[2] And why could this be? Hmmmm? *falls over*
Shout Outs:
Kath: Thanks so much... That's exactly the type of review I want to get. *hugs*
Meitama-san: I don't think it's far-fetched, either... Just kinda randomly occured to me. ^^
ClarkeRaven: I shall deal more with the Sirius thing in the next chapter, when we're back to Harry. Thanks about the character somment... I was a bit uncertain, but comments like yours are strengthening my convinction.
ILLK: First to review part two! *flying glomp* Thanks!
Beloved: I agree. Plot is a key part of stories, so I try and work it in. *smile* Thanks a lot. The stuff with Dumbledore was difficult, I'm glad you think it works. BTW, 'Rainy Night in Soho' was great. XD
And Mizzy: ACK! I still need to review Your side... Shall be explained. Your last review made me laugh... Dialectizers are neat likkle thingies. ^^ Thanks so much for dedicating that part to me... *sniffru* I'm glad my badgering paid off.
Wow! A Plastic Tree song just came up with a Ryutarou skin! *dances*