Author's Note: Thank you to all my reviewers. And to the ones who I
couldn't reach through email, thank you very very much! Especially to
Sabrina-Rosalie. Your encouragement and praise never fail to make my grin
like an idiot!
I didn't really like how chapter 3 turned out and chapter 4 seemed kind of
empty, so I bunched to two together as one chapter. I apologize in advance
for any mistakes.
CHAPTER 3
He walked down the corridor, away from the whispering and glares. He still had to meet the headmaster, but he gathered that dinner would continue for another half an hour, at least. So he had about half an hour to find the dungeons and arrange all his things.
With that thought, he headed towards the nearest staircase leading down. He was just about to head down a stairway that had finally stopped moving, when a ghost suddenly swirled in front of him.
"Hmmm, a new student, eh?" the ghost sneered.
"Hmmm, a ghost, eh?" he mocked, repressing the urge to roll his eyes. Too childish.
"A mere ghost?" he was indignant, "I think not. I am a poltergeist. Peeves the Poltergeist."
Draco looked the poltergeist over. He was a little man with a strange hat and an ugly orange bow tie. It was pathetically obvious the poltergeist was trying to intimidate him. Too bad he didn't know that this particular new student had seen and faced things far worse.
"Get out of my way, Peebes," he tried to pass Peeves and descend down the stairs.
"Hey, the name is Peeves. And you should be more respectful," the ghost huffed.
"Why?"
"Why?" the poltergeist repeated incredulously. "Why? I'll tell you why, you insolent little...I'd be careful if I were you. It's very easy to get lost here if you're new."
His advice was laced with maliciousness, but Draco ignored Peeves' tone.
"Really? I must thank you for telling me, then. You'll be able to help me navigate my way around, won't you?" Draco asked innocently.
"Help you? Now why would I want to do that?"
"Because if you don't, I'll hex you," Draco's voice was light as if he was talking about the weather.
Peeves snorted before laughing uproariously, "Hex me! You foolish boy, you can't hex me!"
"I wouldn't be so sure, Peeves," he spat out the poltergeist's name like it was a curse, his nonchalant mood switching tracks as sudden as a thunderstorm. "My father has taught me all sorts of interesting hexes for all sorts of interesting people. You might have heard of him. The name Malfoy sound familiar?"
If it was possible, Peeves would have paled. "Malfoy? You're Lucius Malfoy's son?"
Draco nodded.
Just hearing that awful name brought back horrible memories, but Peeves tried to bluff his way out of helping Draco.
"So what if your father's Lucius Malfoy? You're probably not skilled enough to perform any of them."
Draco raised his wand, "Maybe you're right, but practice makes perfect, doesn't it?"
Immediately Peeves backed down, "Alright! Fine, you little brat! I'll help you."
"Good," Draco smirked. "But watch the name calling. Now I need to get to the Slytherin dungeons. Take me there."
Peeves sighed. Oh the humiliation. But he floated obediently towards the dungeons, Draco following silently. Peeves had been right. There were various corridors and staircases that appeared to go towards the dungeons, but went in the opposite direction. It didn't help that the stairways kept shifting up and down, back and forth. With the poltergeist's help, Draco reached his house in a few minutes.
"Thank you. You may go now."
Peeves glared at the pale boy for dismissing him like that, but he wandered off anyway. The boy was just like his father, and it wasn't worth it to get on his bad side.
Draco ignored the glare and turned to stare at the stone wall that led to his room. How was he going to get in? Professor Snape had not told him the password. But Draco remembered his mother telling him that Severus Snape was a Potions Master, so he began to randomly guess ingredients to various potions.
Finally, the secret door slid open at 'hensbane' (his twelfth attempt) and Draco strolled in. The moment he stepped in, the fireplace lit up. Immediately, the cold that seemed to radiate from the stone walls disappeared. There were some hanging lights and chairs around the fire. The seventh-year boy's room was at the other end of the common room, which was rather long.
He came to another hidden door. This time, however, Draco could see that it would open if triggered. He carefully moved his fingers around the door. His fingers felt a bump and the door clicked open. He pushed at the stone and entered into his living quarters for the next six months. The door shut with an ominous thud that echoed throughout the room.
The room was a rectangle. There were five beds, three on the right and two on the left. The ground was, like the rest of the Slytherin dungeons, stone, but was also, thankfully, covered with a plush green and silver rug. Each of the beds had a gold plate with the boy's name engraved upon it attached to the footboard.
Draco found his bed wedged into the back corner. Like the others, it was a four-poster bed with a green and silver canopy. At the end of his bed, Draco found a trunk with his name engraved upon the top. He opened it.
All his belongings were inside. He performed an enlargening spell and began to organize his things. His shoes and clothes all went back in the trunk, while his broom went under his bed. His textbooks, quills, and parchments were placed in his schoolbag, which was then placed on top of the trunk. Various other trinkets went into the nightstand by his bed.
He placed his alarm clock on top of the nightstand. It had been a Christmas gift from his mother. It was in the shape of a dragon, a Hungarian Horntail, all scaly black with bright yellow eyes and bronze spikes on its tail.
He checked the time. He had about fifteen minutes before he had to leave. He laid down on his bed and began fiddling with the clock.
He was setting the alarm when he heard the door click open. He heard two pairs of feet clumsily shuffle over to his bed, but he didn't bother sitting up. He finished setting the alarm and set it back on the nightstand before finally sitting up to face the two strangers.
Well, not strangers after all. Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. Great.
Their fathers were frequent guests at the Malfoy Manor, along with several other Death Eaters. Draco remembered his father being surprised when Goyle and Crabbe had gone to Hogwarts instead of Durmstrang, but he shrugged it off, thinking it all part of the plan to get closer to Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter.
But Draco knew what they were doing here, right now. He cut them off before they could open their mouths to greet him.
"Look, Crabbe, Goyle. I know my mother has probably contacted your families to keep an eye on me, but I don't need your help."
The two grunted noncommittedly.
"I mean it. Do you understand?"
This time one of them, Goyle, spoke up, "Well, yeah, but your mother contacted us, not our parents. And she wants us to report to her directly every Saturday."
"Oh, bloody hell."
His mother always did tend to worry too much about him. It had only increased tenfold after Lucius disappeared and she found out about...well, things that had happened when she wasn't around.
"Fine. You two may follow me around or whatever, but do not interfere with my business. And when I want my privacy, you better make yourselves scarce. Got it?"
"Yes."
"Good, well I have to go meet the headmaster now or I'll be late," he lied. He didn't have to leave for another ten minutes, but he didn't want to be around them any more than he had to.
He stood up and started to walk out the room. The two Slytherins started to follow. He stopped them with a wave of his hand.
"First lesson. That means go away. I have to meet Dumbledore. Alone," he twirled on his heel and sauntered out of the room.
~*~*~*~
Draco stood in front of the gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office, staring penetratingly at the stone statue as if that would solve his dilemma.
He had summoned Peeves to lead him to Dumbledore and the poltergeist had led him here. He knew there must be some sort of password, but he didn't have a clue as to what it would be. Unlike the Slytherins or Snape, Draco hadn't the faintest idea what the headmaster would choose for a password.
So he stood outside, staring at this gargoyle.
He was still standing there when Professor Snape came upon him.
"Malfoy!"
"Hello, professor," he greeted politely.
"What are you doing?"
"You said earlier that the headmaster wished to speak with me, but I'm afraid I can't get it in."
"Oh, yes, of course," Snape mumbled distractedly. "Tootsie Pop."
The gargoyle swung aside and the wall behind it opened.
Snape answered Draco's unasked question, "It's a Muggle candy."
"Oh, yes. I thought they sounded familiar. My mother bought me one to try over the holidays."
Snape smiled stiffly, "Yes, they're quite good. Now, you just go up these stairs and you'll find the headmaster."
Draco nodded politely and waited until the Potions Master had disappeared around a corner towards the dungeons, before he began stepped onto the stairs. Immediately, the staircase began to rise, twirling like a circular escalator. Finally it stopped and Draco was at the door to Dumbledore's quarters. He swung the griffin-shaped knocker and heard a the faint scrape of a chair.
"Come in."
He pushed open the door and strolled in, feeling as if his heart was about to jump out of his ribcage.
The headmaster stood behind an enormous desk. He was an old man. Long white beard and friendly, wise eyes. Typical old wizard. But Draco knew better than that. This was Albus Dumbledore. And he was the one wizard that Voldemort was scared of.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Malfoy," the headmaster smiled cordially, sweeping his arms in an indication for Draco to sit down.
Draco moved to one of the armchairs in front of Dumbledore's desk and sank into its soft cushions. His feet barely brushed the floor and he refrained from swinging them back and forth. He folded his hands in his lap and look up expectedly at the headmaster, waiting for him to speak.
The wizard said nothing, just sat down at in his chair with a graceful sweeping of his black robes.
Draco tried not to squirm under the Dumbledore's gaze. He moved his hands from his lap to lay atop the armrests. He still had the annoying urge to swing his feet back and forth. Or get up and look at the strange artifacts in the room. Just do anything to distract himself from the headmaster's unnerving gaze. Instead he clenched his hands around the wooden armrests. While he yearned to just speak up or clear his throat, he refused to be the one to break first.
Thye sat there, staring at each other. Draco sitting rigidly in his seat, his hands clutching at the armrests while Dumbledore leaned back, serenely gazing right back at the boy in front of him. His eyes made him uncomfortable, as if the headmaster was trying to get into his head.
Finally, the headmaster spoke up, "So, Mr. Malfoy. I assume Professor Snape has informed you of your living arrangements here?"
"Yes, he has." Draco practically sighed in relief before he caught himself.
The headmaster hmmm'ed, "Good. I trust that you have already gone to see arrange your things."
At Draco's nod he continued, "So you have managed to find your around the school, then."
Again, Draco nodded his assent, not willing to say how exactly he had managed.
But the headmaster's eyes twinkled as if he already knew Draco had forced Peeves into being his unofficial tour guide to Hogwarts. Draco snorted to himself, what was he think? The headmaster probably did know.
"Resourceful, Mr. Malfoy. I think you'll fit right in with the Slytherins."
Draco blinked. Was that approval in the headmaster's voice? Did he want Draco to manipulate that pathetic poltergeist to his own whims? Draco blinked again.
"Well, it's quite handy to know your way around here. I'm afraid I still have to rescue lost first-years," Dumbledore smiled amusedly.
"Yes, quite handy," Draco echoed.
"Now, let's get down to business, shall we? Classes. You'll have to take certain classes with the other Slytherins, but you can have as many extra classes as you'd like. As long as you can manage them all into your schedule," again the wizard's eyes twinkled.
"Sir? Which classes do I take with the Slytherins?" Draco asked politely.
The headmaster appeared pensive for a moment, "Well, the required classes, the ones taken with your housemates, are Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Now it was Draco's turn to look pensive. "What are other possible classes I could take?"
"There's several, Mr. Malfoy. Here," Dumbledore handed him a list of all the classes offered at Hogwarts and their times.
Draco blinked in surprise the the various classes listed.
Unobserved, the headmaster's eyes twinkled yet again. He had deduced that the pale boy seated in front of him expressed his surprise through rather forceful blinking.
"Yes, we've added many more classes recently when many of our alumni returned and volunteered to teach," Dumbledore explained before handing the boy another list.
Draco tore his eyes from the page when he realized the headmaster was handing him another piece of parchment. This one listed his class schedule with the other Slytherins.
"Now, why don't you look over these and come back in the morning once you've decided your classes. It's nearing curfew and you don't want to be caught outside by Mr. Filch, the groundskeeper," the headmaster's voice was a mix of caution and humor.
"Yes, sir. Thank you," Draco tucked the papers into his robes.
~*~*~*~
He made his way to the dungeons without Peeves' help. No corridors or staircases had radically moved and Draco remembered the way back.
He reached the stone wall and muttered 'hensbane'. The Slytherin Common Room was only occupied by the Seventh years; it seemed they had cleared all the other students out to their rooms.
Pansy Parkinson sat closest to the fire next to Millicent Bulstrode. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting against one of the walls, facing the door so they would know when Draco returned. And Blaise Zabini sat the farthest away from the fire with his back to the door.
But he heard the door open and close, as did the other four students, and he craned his neck around the chair to see Draco's entrace.
Immediately Pansy hopped out the chair to greet him.
"Draco Malfoy! It's been ages! How's your family? Was the trip here awful? It's wonderful to have another seventh year around. I was so disappointed when I heard you were going all the way to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts. But now you're here! We'll have a ball."
Draco pried himself away from her. Ah, yes, Pansy Parkinson. He hadn't seen her since the summer before sixth year, but she still looked the same. Pity. She and her family had visited Malfoy Manor every summer until the Ministry of Magic had finally declared the resurrection of Voldemort.
Pansy pouted at being brushed aside, but Draco ignored her and sat down in the chair facing Blaise's.
The other Slytherin's only words to Draco were, "You're playing seeker, right? Good. Millicent's much better at Chaser, anyway."
Draco flickered a glance to where Millicent and Pansy were not-so- discreetly watching them. He saw Millicent's mouth drop open in outrage and she stood up to confront Blaise.
But Blaise had seen Millicent move, "Oh, sit down, Millicent. You know I'm right. You just don't have the build of a seeker."
Although she did sit back down, the girl was still seething. "Don't have the build? Oh, please, Blaise. You think you're the master of Quidditch just because your captain of the team. Potter doesn't have the build of seeker, either. He's all tall and...big."
"But he's not a clumsy cow like you are, Millicent."
Before the girl could jump up and punch his lights out, Pansy intervened.
"Come on, Millicent. We don't need to listen to this. Let's go to our room," and she practically dragged the other girl away.
Blaise snortered at their retreat and promptly went to the boy's dorm afterwards with a polite goodnight to the three left in the common room.
Draco was about to follow the boy, but he could see Crabbe and Goyle were nervous around him. He smirked and purposefully reclined comfortably in his chair, ignoring them. They hovered by the wall, wondering whether he wanted them to leave or stay. Finally Draco took pity on them and waved them away. The two boys could not help but sigh in relief as they scurried off to the boy's room.
The moment they disappeared behind the door, Draco's face turned solemn. He pulled out the pieces of parchment from his robes and looked over them.
He had Charms and Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, Transfiguration and Mediwizardry with the Ravenclaws, and Care of Magical Creatrues, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors.
Draco examined the list of extra classes over and over. There were no music or art classes like there had been at Durmstrang. Draco was secretly disappointed, but he could still practice within the privacy of his curtained off, magicked off bed. He glanced over the languages before deciding not to take them.
Draco poured over the possibilities before finally deciding on three, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Muggle Studies. Arithmancy and Ancient Runes both looked difficult but manageable and interesting. Muggle Studies looked to be very informative. Draco idly wondered how the other students would react to his taking the class, but then shrugged the thought off.
~*~*~*~
He did not sleep at all that night.
TBC
A/N: If you want a copy of Draco's schedule, email me and I'll send it to you.
CHAPTER 3
He walked down the corridor, away from the whispering and glares. He still had to meet the headmaster, but he gathered that dinner would continue for another half an hour, at least. So he had about half an hour to find the dungeons and arrange all his things.
With that thought, he headed towards the nearest staircase leading down. He was just about to head down a stairway that had finally stopped moving, when a ghost suddenly swirled in front of him.
"Hmmm, a new student, eh?" the ghost sneered.
"Hmmm, a ghost, eh?" he mocked, repressing the urge to roll his eyes. Too childish.
"A mere ghost?" he was indignant, "I think not. I am a poltergeist. Peeves the Poltergeist."
Draco looked the poltergeist over. He was a little man with a strange hat and an ugly orange bow tie. It was pathetically obvious the poltergeist was trying to intimidate him. Too bad he didn't know that this particular new student had seen and faced things far worse.
"Get out of my way, Peebes," he tried to pass Peeves and descend down the stairs.
"Hey, the name is Peeves. And you should be more respectful," the ghost huffed.
"Why?"
"Why?" the poltergeist repeated incredulously. "Why? I'll tell you why, you insolent little...I'd be careful if I were you. It's very easy to get lost here if you're new."
His advice was laced with maliciousness, but Draco ignored Peeves' tone.
"Really? I must thank you for telling me, then. You'll be able to help me navigate my way around, won't you?" Draco asked innocently.
"Help you? Now why would I want to do that?"
"Because if you don't, I'll hex you," Draco's voice was light as if he was talking about the weather.
Peeves snorted before laughing uproariously, "Hex me! You foolish boy, you can't hex me!"
"I wouldn't be so sure, Peeves," he spat out the poltergeist's name like it was a curse, his nonchalant mood switching tracks as sudden as a thunderstorm. "My father has taught me all sorts of interesting hexes for all sorts of interesting people. You might have heard of him. The name Malfoy sound familiar?"
If it was possible, Peeves would have paled. "Malfoy? You're Lucius Malfoy's son?"
Draco nodded.
Just hearing that awful name brought back horrible memories, but Peeves tried to bluff his way out of helping Draco.
"So what if your father's Lucius Malfoy? You're probably not skilled enough to perform any of them."
Draco raised his wand, "Maybe you're right, but practice makes perfect, doesn't it?"
Immediately Peeves backed down, "Alright! Fine, you little brat! I'll help you."
"Good," Draco smirked. "But watch the name calling. Now I need to get to the Slytherin dungeons. Take me there."
Peeves sighed. Oh the humiliation. But he floated obediently towards the dungeons, Draco following silently. Peeves had been right. There were various corridors and staircases that appeared to go towards the dungeons, but went in the opposite direction. It didn't help that the stairways kept shifting up and down, back and forth. With the poltergeist's help, Draco reached his house in a few minutes.
"Thank you. You may go now."
Peeves glared at the pale boy for dismissing him like that, but he wandered off anyway. The boy was just like his father, and it wasn't worth it to get on his bad side.
Draco ignored the glare and turned to stare at the stone wall that led to his room. How was he going to get in? Professor Snape had not told him the password. But Draco remembered his mother telling him that Severus Snape was a Potions Master, so he began to randomly guess ingredients to various potions.
Finally, the secret door slid open at 'hensbane' (his twelfth attempt) and Draco strolled in. The moment he stepped in, the fireplace lit up. Immediately, the cold that seemed to radiate from the stone walls disappeared. There were some hanging lights and chairs around the fire. The seventh-year boy's room was at the other end of the common room, which was rather long.
He came to another hidden door. This time, however, Draco could see that it would open if triggered. He carefully moved his fingers around the door. His fingers felt a bump and the door clicked open. He pushed at the stone and entered into his living quarters for the next six months. The door shut with an ominous thud that echoed throughout the room.
The room was a rectangle. There were five beds, three on the right and two on the left. The ground was, like the rest of the Slytherin dungeons, stone, but was also, thankfully, covered with a plush green and silver rug. Each of the beds had a gold plate with the boy's name engraved upon it attached to the footboard.
Draco found his bed wedged into the back corner. Like the others, it was a four-poster bed with a green and silver canopy. At the end of his bed, Draco found a trunk with his name engraved upon the top. He opened it.
All his belongings were inside. He performed an enlargening spell and began to organize his things. His shoes and clothes all went back in the trunk, while his broom went under his bed. His textbooks, quills, and parchments were placed in his schoolbag, which was then placed on top of the trunk. Various other trinkets went into the nightstand by his bed.
He placed his alarm clock on top of the nightstand. It had been a Christmas gift from his mother. It was in the shape of a dragon, a Hungarian Horntail, all scaly black with bright yellow eyes and bronze spikes on its tail.
He checked the time. He had about fifteen minutes before he had to leave. He laid down on his bed and began fiddling with the clock.
He was setting the alarm when he heard the door click open. He heard two pairs of feet clumsily shuffle over to his bed, but he didn't bother sitting up. He finished setting the alarm and set it back on the nightstand before finally sitting up to face the two strangers.
Well, not strangers after all. Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. Great.
Their fathers were frequent guests at the Malfoy Manor, along with several other Death Eaters. Draco remembered his father being surprised when Goyle and Crabbe had gone to Hogwarts instead of Durmstrang, but he shrugged it off, thinking it all part of the plan to get closer to Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter.
But Draco knew what they were doing here, right now. He cut them off before they could open their mouths to greet him.
"Look, Crabbe, Goyle. I know my mother has probably contacted your families to keep an eye on me, but I don't need your help."
The two grunted noncommittedly.
"I mean it. Do you understand?"
This time one of them, Goyle, spoke up, "Well, yeah, but your mother contacted us, not our parents. And she wants us to report to her directly every Saturday."
"Oh, bloody hell."
His mother always did tend to worry too much about him. It had only increased tenfold after Lucius disappeared and she found out about...well, things that had happened when she wasn't around.
"Fine. You two may follow me around or whatever, but do not interfere with my business. And when I want my privacy, you better make yourselves scarce. Got it?"
"Yes."
"Good, well I have to go meet the headmaster now or I'll be late," he lied. He didn't have to leave for another ten minutes, but he didn't want to be around them any more than he had to.
He stood up and started to walk out the room. The two Slytherins started to follow. He stopped them with a wave of his hand.
"First lesson. That means go away. I have to meet Dumbledore. Alone," he twirled on his heel and sauntered out of the room.
~*~*~*~
Draco stood in front of the gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office, staring penetratingly at the stone statue as if that would solve his dilemma.
He had summoned Peeves to lead him to Dumbledore and the poltergeist had led him here. He knew there must be some sort of password, but he didn't have a clue as to what it would be. Unlike the Slytherins or Snape, Draco hadn't the faintest idea what the headmaster would choose for a password.
So he stood outside, staring at this gargoyle.
He was still standing there when Professor Snape came upon him.
"Malfoy!"
"Hello, professor," he greeted politely.
"What are you doing?"
"You said earlier that the headmaster wished to speak with me, but I'm afraid I can't get it in."
"Oh, yes, of course," Snape mumbled distractedly. "Tootsie Pop."
The gargoyle swung aside and the wall behind it opened.
Snape answered Draco's unasked question, "It's a Muggle candy."
"Oh, yes. I thought they sounded familiar. My mother bought me one to try over the holidays."
Snape smiled stiffly, "Yes, they're quite good. Now, you just go up these stairs and you'll find the headmaster."
Draco nodded politely and waited until the Potions Master had disappeared around a corner towards the dungeons, before he began stepped onto the stairs. Immediately, the staircase began to rise, twirling like a circular escalator. Finally it stopped and Draco was at the door to Dumbledore's quarters. He swung the griffin-shaped knocker and heard a the faint scrape of a chair.
"Come in."
He pushed open the door and strolled in, feeling as if his heart was about to jump out of his ribcage.
The headmaster stood behind an enormous desk. He was an old man. Long white beard and friendly, wise eyes. Typical old wizard. But Draco knew better than that. This was Albus Dumbledore. And he was the one wizard that Voldemort was scared of.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Malfoy," the headmaster smiled cordially, sweeping his arms in an indication for Draco to sit down.
Draco moved to one of the armchairs in front of Dumbledore's desk and sank into its soft cushions. His feet barely brushed the floor and he refrained from swinging them back and forth. He folded his hands in his lap and look up expectedly at the headmaster, waiting for him to speak.
The wizard said nothing, just sat down at in his chair with a graceful sweeping of his black robes.
Draco tried not to squirm under the Dumbledore's gaze. He moved his hands from his lap to lay atop the armrests. He still had the annoying urge to swing his feet back and forth. Or get up and look at the strange artifacts in the room. Just do anything to distract himself from the headmaster's unnerving gaze. Instead he clenched his hands around the wooden armrests. While he yearned to just speak up or clear his throat, he refused to be the one to break first.
Thye sat there, staring at each other. Draco sitting rigidly in his seat, his hands clutching at the armrests while Dumbledore leaned back, serenely gazing right back at the boy in front of him. His eyes made him uncomfortable, as if the headmaster was trying to get into his head.
Finally, the headmaster spoke up, "So, Mr. Malfoy. I assume Professor Snape has informed you of your living arrangements here?"
"Yes, he has." Draco practically sighed in relief before he caught himself.
The headmaster hmmm'ed, "Good. I trust that you have already gone to see arrange your things."
At Draco's nod he continued, "So you have managed to find your around the school, then."
Again, Draco nodded his assent, not willing to say how exactly he had managed.
But the headmaster's eyes twinkled as if he already knew Draco had forced Peeves into being his unofficial tour guide to Hogwarts. Draco snorted to himself, what was he think? The headmaster probably did know.
"Resourceful, Mr. Malfoy. I think you'll fit right in with the Slytherins."
Draco blinked. Was that approval in the headmaster's voice? Did he want Draco to manipulate that pathetic poltergeist to his own whims? Draco blinked again.
"Well, it's quite handy to know your way around here. I'm afraid I still have to rescue lost first-years," Dumbledore smiled amusedly.
"Yes, quite handy," Draco echoed.
"Now, let's get down to business, shall we? Classes. You'll have to take certain classes with the other Slytherins, but you can have as many extra classes as you'd like. As long as you can manage them all into your schedule," again the wizard's eyes twinkled.
"Sir? Which classes do I take with the Slytherins?" Draco asked politely.
The headmaster appeared pensive for a moment, "Well, the required classes, the ones taken with your housemates, are Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Now it was Draco's turn to look pensive. "What are other possible classes I could take?"
"There's several, Mr. Malfoy. Here," Dumbledore handed him a list of all the classes offered at Hogwarts and their times.
Draco blinked in surprise the the various classes listed.
Unobserved, the headmaster's eyes twinkled yet again. He had deduced that the pale boy seated in front of him expressed his surprise through rather forceful blinking.
"Yes, we've added many more classes recently when many of our alumni returned and volunteered to teach," Dumbledore explained before handing the boy another list.
Draco tore his eyes from the page when he realized the headmaster was handing him another piece of parchment. This one listed his class schedule with the other Slytherins.
"Now, why don't you look over these and come back in the morning once you've decided your classes. It's nearing curfew and you don't want to be caught outside by Mr. Filch, the groundskeeper," the headmaster's voice was a mix of caution and humor.
"Yes, sir. Thank you," Draco tucked the papers into his robes.
~*~*~*~
He made his way to the dungeons without Peeves' help. No corridors or staircases had radically moved and Draco remembered the way back.
He reached the stone wall and muttered 'hensbane'. The Slytherin Common Room was only occupied by the Seventh years; it seemed they had cleared all the other students out to their rooms.
Pansy Parkinson sat closest to the fire next to Millicent Bulstrode. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting against one of the walls, facing the door so they would know when Draco returned. And Blaise Zabini sat the farthest away from the fire with his back to the door.
But he heard the door open and close, as did the other four students, and he craned his neck around the chair to see Draco's entrace.
Immediately Pansy hopped out the chair to greet him.
"Draco Malfoy! It's been ages! How's your family? Was the trip here awful? It's wonderful to have another seventh year around. I was so disappointed when I heard you were going all the way to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts. But now you're here! We'll have a ball."
Draco pried himself away from her. Ah, yes, Pansy Parkinson. He hadn't seen her since the summer before sixth year, but she still looked the same. Pity. She and her family had visited Malfoy Manor every summer until the Ministry of Magic had finally declared the resurrection of Voldemort.
Pansy pouted at being brushed aside, but Draco ignored her and sat down in the chair facing Blaise's.
The other Slytherin's only words to Draco were, "You're playing seeker, right? Good. Millicent's much better at Chaser, anyway."
Draco flickered a glance to where Millicent and Pansy were not-so- discreetly watching them. He saw Millicent's mouth drop open in outrage and she stood up to confront Blaise.
But Blaise had seen Millicent move, "Oh, sit down, Millicent. You know I'm right. You just don't have the build of a seeker."
Although she did sit back down, the girl was still seething. "Don't have the build? Oh, please, Blaise. You think you're the master of Quidditch just because your captain of the team. Potter doesn't have the build of seeker, either. He's all tall and...big."
"But he's not a clumsy cow like you are, Millicent."
Before the girl could jump up and punch his lights out, Pansy intervened.
"Come on, Millicent. We don't need to listen to this. Let's go to our room," and she practically dragged the other girl away.
Blaise snortered at their retreat and promptly went to the boy's dorm afterwards with a polite goodnight to the three left in the common room.
Draco was about to follow the boy, but he could see Crabbe and Goyle were nervous around him. He smirked and purposefully reclined comfortably in his chair, ignoring them. They hovered by the wall, wondering whether he wanted them to leave or stay. Finally Draco took pity on them and waved them away. The two boys could not help but sigh in relief as they scurried off to the boy's room.
The moment they disappeared behind the door, Draco's face turned solemn. He pulled out the pieces of parchment from his robes and looked over them.
He had Charms and Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, Transfiguration and Mediwizardry with the Ravenclaws, and Care of Magical Creatrues, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors.
Draco examined the list of extra classes over and over. There were no music or art classes like there had been at Durmstrang. Draco was secretly disappointed, but he could still practice within the privacy of his curtained off, magicked off bed. He glanced over the languages before deciding not to take them.
Draco poured over the possibilities before finally deciding on three, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Muggle Studies. Arithmancy and Ancient Runes both looked difficult but manageable and interesting. Muggle Studies looked to be very informative. Draco idly wondered how the other students would react to his taking the class, but then shrugged the thought off.
~*~*~*~
He did not sleep at all that night.
TBC
A/N: If you want a copy of Draco's schedule, email me and I'll send it to you.