Diclaimer: Same as usual. I love Daniel Radcliffe, and adore Tom Felton, and pray they aren't gay. I also hope Harry and Draco aren't because I think it would distract from the books, don't you think? ^_^
A/N: Gracias, Danielle y Cordelia. Yo aprecio los comentarios. And "Slytherin Gal" I love Draco so much more when he is gay. Think of Draco straight. Sullen people give so little material to work with. But Draco, not only angsty and depressed, but also gay, why, I'm swimming in story ideas. (Gay Harry is hard to work with. There are two people he can go with...Draco or Ron. And that avenue is so boring.) Draco and Harry are the CLASSIC slash pairing. And if you love Draco so much, why do you call him Malfoy?? But, yes, Draco is gay in this. Live with it. -_-'
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"I've been waiting
a long time
for this moment to come…"
- "Waiting" Green Day
After the partners had all been chosen and the moans died down, Snape waved his wand at a chalkboard, and a list of ingredients, followed by a short recipe, appeared on it. Snape stood and looked at the class, who was already thoroughly disgusted with him.
"You will complete this Veritaserum potion today, and then it shall simmer until we next meet. It must have a specific length of simmering, and must be done perfectly or there will be serious side effects."
Neville looked at Snape with horror, and then let his head fall to the desk with a thump. Blaise, his partner, looked at him then buried his face in his hands. Draco sneaked a sideways glance at Potter, who was staring determinably at the ceiling.
Glowering at the snub, Draco pulled out a piece of parchment and wrote the ingredients down, pausing to make sure he had each one. He was running low on powdered bicorn horn, and the bundimun secretion they were going to need, two ingredients he had completely forgotten to buy at Diagon Alley.
"Potter, will you grow up and get out some bicorn horn and bundimun secretion? I don't have much, and we need quite a bit," hissed Draco, lighting the fire underneath the cauldron. Potter eyed him suspiciously, and Draco knew he need to insult Potter somehow, but his heart wasn't in it. This must've surprised Potter into compliance, as he pulled out his materials and pulled the parchment over to him.
"We have to add the crushed scarab beetles and spider legs at the exact same time."
"Yeah, but not until after we add the dried nettles."
There was an air of civility as Potter crushed the scarab beetles and Draco carefully stirred the bicorn horn powder into the bundimun secretion. More than a couple groups were watching the two, especially Weasel and Granger, waiting for some big blow up, but they were disappointed. There was only the frigid air around each brusque sentence, and the silent refusal to say each other's name.
Finally something happened; it had too, because the tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Potter had been measuring the mixture of bicorn horn and bundimun secretion when Neville and Blaise's cauldron let out a sharp bang. Potter yelped, and dropped the mixture and glass bottle straight on Draco's hand. Snatching his hand away, Draco bit his shout of pain back. He rushed over to the stone sink and washed the burning mixture off his hand. When he turned back, the class, including Snape, was watching with baited breath. Draco tried to imagine what they were all thinking. Perhaps he would curse Potter, or just plain punch him.
Grinning inwardly at how disappointed they would all be, he only said offhandedly, "Watch that," and positioned the spider legs over the cauldron. "We have to pour this and the beetles in now, right?" he said peacefully, looking at Potter. The whole class was gaping at him, and Potter looked stunned, and he had definitely paled.
But he realized this was, while not an offering of the olive branch, but a short pause of hostility, picked up the crushed beetles and held them over the cauldron. "On three...one…two…three…" they tipped their bowls forward, and when the two ingredients hit the dark blue potion, the cauldron gave a sputter, then the whole potion went absolutely clear. Draco leaned in to look at it.
"It looks like water."
"As it should," said Snape, who had gotten over his own surprise at the truce seconds after it had happened. "Take it off the heat and cover it to let it simmer to full power. Good job, Mr. Malfoy," he glanced at Potter, who looked affronted, before adding, "and you, Potter."
At the end of class, Draco was instantly joined by Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle, all who were regarding him with looks of suspicion.
But the confusion in their eyes barely reached the fever pitch that danced in Weasel and Granger's eyes, who stared at Draco as he left the dungeon. He felt their eyes on him as they turned one way for their next class and he headed off to the North Tower for Divination.
Professor Trelawny was waiting in her normal poof chair, and Draco chose a seat near the back. He had always hated this class and didn't really find Divination to be a true branch of magic. He had thought often while listening to Professor Trelawny babble on about inner eyes and tea leaves, that it had been created to occupy all the loonies in the wizarding world.
"Welcome to another year of Divination," Professor Trelawny said once everyone had been seated, "I do hope you've exercised you're inner eye over the summer. This year will be a tumultuous time for all, especially for one in our class, who will be forced to choose between his family and his feelings."
Everyone shifted uncomfortably as she brushed up and down the aisles, randomly pointing at some students and making such a vague prediction that it was bound to come true sooner or later. Draco stared at the crystal ball at the front, full of smoke and indistinguishable shapes. Soon Trelawny was upon him.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Malfoy. I daresay this year will be both your best and your worst. Choose wisely your path, for it will define your whole life." With that, she billowed past. Draco sat stunned for a moment. Had she meant him when she made her normal opening prediction? Draco knew it was probably just the babbling of a crazy old woman, but her nonsense had left him feeling anxious.
"This semester we shall be doing palm reading and tarot cards. Tarot was first used by the group of witches and wizards who called themselves Pagans. We use it now, but ours are enchanted to read much more than the ones Muggles purchase."
The class went to the front to choose withered decks, then listened in a dull stupor as Trelawny described each card, and they were forced to write down each description. Then she passed out small, but thick books on palmistry. "I expect this to be half-way done by next class," Trelawny said airily. Draco looked with despair at the book in his hands, and at the tarot cards scattered on the desk. The last thing he needed was to have an entire class armed with articles that could supposedly see everything about a person.
He trudged from Divination with a heavy heart, and was withdrawn through dinner. He was dimly aware that many eyes, from all houses, were on him, but he didn't understand why. Assuming it was concerning the Potions episode, he felt a dull fire in his stomach. Why was that such a big thing to get worried over?
When he stood to go to his dormitory to curl up in his bed and dream about death, more than a few heads turned his way. Pansy Parkinson followed him into the hallway, then he felt her wrap her arms around him from behind. "Oh, Dracy-poo," she sobbed into his shoulder, "I'm so sorry!"
Pushing her back, disgusted with the nickname and the feel of her arms on him, Draco demanded, "What are you talking about, woman?" Pansy looked at him in confusion, then held up a special edition Daily Prophet. It took a moment for the headline to hit Draco, but when it did, it did it all full force.
He jerked it from her hands and read.
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Lucius Malfoy on the Run from Ministry Officials
Ex-school governor and prominent figure Lucius Malfoy is a fugitive from the Ministry of Magic, Sarah Erato of the Daily Prophet reports. Malfoy, sought in question concerning activities of Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup last summer, was discovered missing from his manor early Monday morning. His wife, Narcissa Malfoy, who claims innocence, says Malfoy brought a suitcase with him to Platform 9 ¾ and apparated after dropping off their son, Draco Malfoy, at the Hogwarts Express. Draco is starting his fifth year at Hogwarts, and could not be contact at press time.
"[Lucius] claimed he was on the way to a business meeting," Narcissa Malfoy told reporters this morning, "and I had no idea that he wasn't going to be coming back." At this point, she burst into tears and was led back into her manor by her mother.
A source in the Ministry who requested to remain anonymous said this on Lucius: "The man cannot be trusted. The whole family cannot be trusted. I don't believe for a second that Narcissa and Draco Malfoy are innocent of activities concerning the Dark Arts, or at least know of Lucius' activities."
Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, refused to confirm or deny the rampant rumours that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had risen again, nor could he confirm or deny is Lucius Malfoy is to be arrested.
"He is simply wanted for questioning. And I again must stress that regardless what you have heard, You-Know-Who has not risen again."
Last June, the newly revived Triwizard tournament ended in tragedy with the death of leading contender, Cedric Diggory. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, was also involved somehow in the events leading up to Diggory's death, but efforts by reporters to reach the boy for question were blocked by Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore.
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Draco looked up at Pansy in shock, his jaw hanging open. The story went on to highlight the history of the accusations against Lucius Malfoy, but Draco knew those. What he was most shocked about was how he himself had been blatantly targeted as a member of Voldemort's minions.
Once his breathing had slowed, he realized he probably looked and acted like someone who would be practicing the Dark Arts. But that was irrelevant. He was mortified that they had hounded his mother like that, and desperately wanted to get home to her.
"Those meddling…fools…" Pansy sobbed, "I cannot wait until the Dark Lord strikes them all down."
"Right…" Draco said quietly, glancing at the moving file photo of his father on the paper in his shaking hands, "meddling bastards."
"Don't worry though," Blaise said, coming out of the Great Hall, "no doubt your father has gone to Voldemort. That's probably the best thing to do. My mum was thinking about not making me come here this year and instead sending me with my father, but oh well, right? We can keep an eye on precious little Dumbledore, and his precious little Potter. I plan on watching that boy like a hawk, and telling my dad everything."
"I just want to throttle him. Him, and his friends," hissed Pansy, her cheeks coloring slightly. Draco listened to the conversation with half an ear. So this is what it was like during war. The drawing of the lines of loyalty had begun. Shaking his head, he pulled out of his reverie.
Trying to sound exhausted, he yawned and said, "Well, I'm going to go write to my mother, and go to bed. Don't worry about my father," he gave a chuckle, hoping it sounded evil and light, "the Dark Lord probably has him covered." Pansy nodded sympathetically, patting his arm and going back to the Great Hall. Blaise lingered a moment, then punched Draco's shoulder as if they were friends and saying, "Yeah. You know, your father and mine would make a great team. They could probably rid the world of Mudbloods all by themselves."
Forcing a laugh, Draco slugged Blaise back, a little harder than friends would, and turned to go back to his dormitory. Every step down the winding Hogwarts staircases prompted his mind to think of more and more reasons why his father would run, not just lie. He had been questioned before, there was no reason why he couldn't lie again.
Was this the beginning of the end? Was Voldemort finally launching his war on the Ministry, so soon after his resurrection?
And who was Draco supposed to support?
