Day 4 -
Draco hadn't been able to speak quite perfectly since the memo came. It had gotten to the point that Hermione had called in Madame Pomfrey (the one who wasn't Colin Creevy) to see if he was paralyzed with fright. When she declared Draco to be fine, Hermione, as well as the rest of Hogwarts, just couldn't understand why he was so upset... Of course his father would be angry, but Draco was Lucius' son. He wouldn't do anything TOO drastic...
But Draco knew better.
Draco knew the cold, loveless heart of his father better than anyone but his mother.
And he knew that his father was perfectly capable of anything - even murder - if he thought it would be necessary to punish his son... The Malfoys were strict believers in discipline. What had to be done, would be done.
And one of the Ten Commandments of the Malfoy Handbook was "thou shalt not covet a filthy mudblood". Draco had broken an important rule, and it put the honour of the Malfoy family at stake, not to mention Hermione's safety.
Draco wasn't paralyzed with fright - his stoumach was turning over and over with fear and self-blame.
And then he realized:
Potter.
This was all Potter's fault. Damn him, damn him to Hell, Draco thought. Damn him and his pink-haired ways. Damn him.
It was then that Draco vowed that, in addition to seducing Hermione, he had one other goal this year:
He must have revenge on Potter.
-
Tom Riddle was in the dungeons, crying.
He couldn't believe that Dumbledore was so mean!
Deducting points from his old house! .. And besides, he was right, wasn't he?!
Briefs WERE better than boxers!!
He continued to cry.
He hated Dumbledore.
He hated ALL of them.
-
Colin still had poor Oliver Wood tied up, and he'd put Oliver's cell phone (Wood had chosen to have one because it required less effort than spells did) on the other side of the room by now, because his fiancé kept calling, wondering where he was.
After all, the fifth-year had had the poor Hogwarts graduate tied to the chair for fourty-eight hours.
By now, the questioning had shifted from the Muffin Man to the Gingerbread Man.
"TELL ME WOOD! If I run, run as fast as I can, can I catch the Gingerbread Man?!"
Oliver groaned, dark circles under his eyes. "No.. Run, run, as fast as you can, you can't catch the gingerbread man.."
-
Ron and Padma were in the Gryffindor common room, trying to think of some way to stop Harry's sabotage.
"Bloody Hell.. I've half a mind to just bloody shoot his bloody brains out!" Ron scowled at the plans on the sticky note.
Padma sighed, shaking her head.. then slowly her eyes lit up. "...You know, Ron, you might just have something there!"
"Wh-what?!.."
"Don't you see?.. We could just kill Harry! Then everything would be all better!!"
"Bloody 'Ell, Padma. Don't be a bloody lunatic. There's a whole bloody Harry Potter fanbase that'd bloody kill us in our beds if we bloody went 'un did that!"
Padma slumped over in her chair. "Oh .. good point."
They went back to thinking.
-
In the meantime, Severus and Minerva had abandoned their Michael Jackson fetish to become fervent Beatles fans.
"If I -hic!- fell in love with you, would you -hiccup!- promise to -hic!- be true and hic!elp meeee understand, 'cuz I've -hic!- been in -hic!- be- hic!- and I found that love was -hic!- than just holding -hic!-nds!!"
Minerva clapped happily, hiccupping as well. "Sever-hic!-! That was marvelous!"
-
Crabbe was sitting in the hallway, sobbing. He couldn't get into a relationship!
He knew Pansy could never really love him.
Because she would never know who he really was.. And that was a secret he was destined to keep.
Vincent Crabbe was, in reality...
.. SUPERMAN!
-
The clock struck three.
Pm.
And, on the stroke of three, Lucius Malfoy slammed the door open, bursting into the room, glaring at his son with hatred as heated as the fire of a thousand hells.
Draco's voice cracked. This was the end.
Faintly, the background music changed to the Doors. "This is the end.. My only friend, the end.."
Hermione shot a death glare at the sound director, and the music stopped.
But that didn't change the fact that Lucius was here. He'd seen the tape. He knew what had transpired. And he was very, very angry.
Draco's father strode quickly and elegantly down the ramp onto the set, and stopped about a foot from his son. (The camera men zoomed in, eager to get some juicy footage.) Lucius' fists clenched and unclenched. "Son.. What is the meaning of this?!"
"...Dad... I don't know what to say.. You weren't supposed to know.. I.. I don't.."
"HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN RULE NUMBER FOUR OF THE MALFOY HANDBOOK?!"
"But, Dad!.. Wait. 'Thou shalt not covet a filthy mudblood' is rule number eight, isn't it?"
Lucius scowled. "I'm glad you remember ONE of them. But it seems you HAVE forgotten number four, haven't you?!"
Draco thought for a moment. ".. 'thou shalt not drink caffeinated coffee'?!"
"PRECISELY! Have you forgotten how your mother became a diabetic?! Drinking all that caffeinated coffe?!?!?! I shan't have my son becoming a diabetic, too!"
Hermione groaned, banging her head on the table once more.
Damn, this week was going to be really, really, really, REALLY long.
-
A/N - Thank you once more to all my loyal R&R-ers! ^_^!
Strawberri - Phloom! Really? Heh, that's kewl. Two Emily's, both with names of yummy-scented plants that end in 'i'. xD.
Lady-Leilani - No, nobody's gone mad. They're just being themselves. o_o
A.S. Snickers -- ^_^! TY!
Molly (firebird) - Oh yes, no autographs please. ::Pose pose::. xD..
Alexis - Even if I *had* updated, the chapter bar wouldn't have worked until the next day. u_u;
Coming up next: LUCIUS AND DRACO HAVE A LIGHTSABER BATTLE OVER WHETHER DRACO CAN DRINK CAFFEINATED COFFEE!!!
Draco hadn't been able to speak quite perfectly since the memo came. It had gotten to the point that Hermione had called in Madame Pomfrey (the one who wasn't Colin Creevy) to see if he was paralyzed with fright. When she declared Draco to be fine, Hermione, as well as the rest of Hogwarts, just couldn't understand why he was so upset... Of course his father would be angry, but Draco was Lucius' son. He wouldn't do anything TOO drastic...
But Draco knew better.
Draco knew the cold, loveless heart of his father better than anyone but his mother.
And he knew that his father was perfectly capable of anything - even murder - if he thought it would be necessary to punish his son... The Malfoys were strict believers in discipline. What had to be done, would be done.
And one of the Ten Commandments of the Malfoy Handbook was "thou shalt not covet a filthy mudblood". Draco had broken an important rule, and it put the honour of the Malfoy family at stake, not to mention Hermione's safety.
Draco wasn't paralyzed with fright - his stoumach was turning over and over with fear and self-blame.
And then he realized:
Potter.
This was all Potter's fault. Damn him, damn him to Hell, Draco thought. Damn him and his pink-haired ways. Damn him.
It was then that Draco vowed that, in addition to seducing Hermione, he had one other goal this year:
He must have revenge on Potter.
-
Tom Riddle was in the dungeons, crying.
He couldn't believe that Dumbledore was so mean!
Deducting points from his old house! .. And besides, he was right, wasn't he?!
Briefs WERE better than boxers!!
He continued to cry.
He hated Dumbledore.
He hated ALL of them.
-
Colin still had poor Oliver Wood tied up, and he'd put Oliver's cell phone (Wood had chosen to have one because it required less effort than spells did) on the other side of the room by now, because his fiancé kept calling, wondering where he was.
After all, the fifth-year had had the poor Hogwarts graduate tied to the chair for fourty-eight hours.
By now, the questioning had shifted from the Muffin Man to the Gingerbread Man.
"TELL ME WOOD! If I run, run as fast as I can, can I catch the Gingerbread Man?!"
Oliver groaned, dark circles under his eyes. "No.. Run, run, as fast as you can, you can't catch the gingerbread man.."
-
Ron and Padma were in the Gryffindor common room, trying to think of some way to stop Harry's sabotage.
"Bloody Hell.. I've half a mind to just bloody shoot his bloody brains out!" Ron scowled at the plans on the sticky note.
Padma sighed, shaking her head.. then slowly her eyes lit up. "...You know, Ron, you might just have something there!"
"Wh-what?!.."
"Don't you see?.. We could just kill Harry! Then everything would be all better!!"
"Bloody 'Ell, Padma. Don't be a bloody lunatic. There's a whole bloody Harry Potter fanbase that'd bloody kill us in our beds if we bloody went 'un did that!"
Padma slumped over in her chair. "Oh .. good point."
They went back to thinking.
-
In the meantime, Severus and Minerva had abandoned their Michael Jackson fetish to become fervent Beatles fans.
"If I -hic!- fell in love with you, would you -hiccup!- promise to -hic!- be true and hic!elp meeee understand, 'cuz I've -hic!- been in -hic!- be- hic!- and I found that love was -hic!- than just holding -hic!-nds!!"
Minerva clapped happily, hiccupping as well. "Sever-hic!-! That was marvelous!"
-
Crabbe was sitting in the hallway, sobbing. He couldn't get into a relationship!
He knew Pansy could never really love him.
Because she would never know who he really was.. And that was a secret he was destined to keep.
Vincent Crabbe was, in reality...
.. SUPERMAN!
-
The clock struck three.
Pm.
And, on the stroke of three, Lucius Malfoy slammed the door open, bursting into the room, glaring at his son with hatred as heated as the fire of a thousand hells.
Draco's voice cracked. This was the end.
Faintly, the background music changed to the Doors. "This is the end.. My only friend, the end.."
Hermione shot a death glare at the sound director, and the music stopped.
But that didn't change the fact that Lucius was here. He'd seen the tape. He knew what had transpired. And he was very, very angry.
Draco's father strode quickly and elegantly down the ramp onto the set, and stopped about a foot from his son. (The camera men zoomed in, eager to get some juicy footage.) Lucius' fists clenched and unclenched. "Son.. What is the meaning of this?!"
"...Dad... I don't know what to say.. You weren't supposed to know.. I.. I don't.."
"HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN RULE NUMBER FOUR OF THE MALFOY HANDBOOK?!"
"But, Dad!.. Wait. 'Thou shalt not covet a filthy mudblood' is rule number eight, isn't it?"
Lucius scowled. "I'm glad you remember ONE of them. But it seems you HAVE forgotten number four, haven't you?!"
Draco thought for a moment. ".. 'thou shalt not drink caffeinated coffee'?!"
"PRECISELY! Have you forgotten how your mother became a diabetic?! Drinking all that caffeinated coffe?!?!?! I shan't have my son becoming a diabetic, too!"
Hermione groaned, banging her head on the table once more.
Damn, this week was going to be really, really, really, REALLY long.
-
A/N - Thank you once more to all my loyal R&R-ers! ^_^!
Strawberri - Phloom! Really? Heh, that's kewl. Two Emily's, both with names of yummy-scented plants that end in 'i'. xD.
Lady-Leilani - No, nobody's gone mad. They're just being themselves. o_o
A.S. Snickers -- ^_^! TY!
Molly (firebird) - Oh yes, no autographs please. ::Pose pose::. xD..
Alexis - Even if I *had* updated, the chapter bar wouldn't have worked until the next day. u_u;
Coming up next: LUCIUS AND DRACO HAVE A LIGHTSABER BATTLE OVER WHETHER DRACO CAN DRINK CAFFEINATED COFFEE!!!