DRACO MALFOY AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE
By Lady Lestrange
SLYTHERIN AMBITION RENEWED
Chapter 8
Disclaimer: It's all JK Rowlings—
To my reviewers: Thanks to all of you… If you like this story please read my other fic. Even though it has a Harry Potter title instead of a Slytherin one, be reminded that the author is totally Slytherin—You do know the Lestranges, don't you?
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Now as far as Draco winning the tournament and hurting Harry Potter, well if you read JK's version, then you know the "present" in store for the first person who touches the cup—Of course, we know that but Draco doesn't. His father never tells him anything….
DRACO MALFOY AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE
By Lady Lestrange
Slytherin Ambition Renewed
Draco was shaking when he finally entered Slytherin House. The party was in full swing and Pansy came forward to hang on his arm. He pushed her away.
"Congratulations," called half dozen different people.
What's in the egg?" asked Greg Goyle.
"Open it," urged Vincent.
"Go ahead," Draco spat. "You open it." He tossed the egg to Vincent and headed up to his room. He flung himself across his bed. He was so angry he was ready to explode. He needed to curse something. He looked under his bed for spiders. That was one advantage to living in the dungeon. You could usually find some little bug to practice crucio on—but not today—today his anger just simmered and swelled.
"Why should he lose the tournament? No answer. Just because I say so. Well that wasn't good enough."
A tapping at the door caught his attention. "Go away," he shouted.
"It's Pansy."
"Go away."
After a while, he got tired of simmering in his self-pity. He did just fine without his parents around for nine months out of the year. He didn't really need their approval. He had the approval of his whole house, and they were waiting for him. What was he doing in his room when there was a party going on in the common room?"
He pulled himself out of his depression and headed for the common room. The party was a little more subdued than the first one had been when he got the role of Champion. Everyone was wondering where he was—and why he was upset. He tried to get the party atmosphere back, but it was useless. Too many Slytherins had already gone to bed or just wandered off to their private business. Mostly, they were private people, only coming together for a cause or a leader. When Draco failed to show up, the glue that kept them focused on the task at hand, came undone. He wondered if this would hurt his chances to complete the second task. He had a feeling that he might be more on his own with this one, unless he could rekindle the momentum. It was his own fault. He had let it lapse. Damn his father.
Vincent handed him the egg.
"Did you open it? Any idea what it is?" Draco asked.
"No," said Vincent, "But I think Camilla might know."
"She might be faking too," suggested Greg. "She said it sounds familiar."
Draco cracked open the egg, which screeched unmercifully. He closed it again.
"No one had any ideas?" asked Draco.
"None."
Draco sipped his butterbeer, and cradled the egg.
"Everyone still following the other champions 24/7?" he asked.
"Yes," said Vincent. "We reminded them."
"Morten", Draco asked. "How old were you when you first apparated?"
"Twelve," he answered.
"Teach me," said Draco.
Morten Warrington nodded.
It wasn't much later when they went to bed, but Draco lay awake for a long while wondering what it would take to get his father to trust him. Of course, trust in Sytherin House was hard to come by—still—he was his father's only son. Couldn't Lucious see the man Draco wanted to become? Draco rolled over and frustrated, buried his head in his pillow.
It smelled like—Someone—Spicy—Cinnamon. He smiled remembering. Who wore that perfume? As soon as he remembered her name, he would have Crabbe or Goyle go and fetch her. Being a Champion did have its advantages.
Even Potter seemed to have gained a feminine following Draco noted-- not that Potter had any idea what to do with them. Draco put that thought out of his mind. It was positively obscene that he should think of Potter now.
He sniffed the pillow again. Sheryl or Shirley or Shelly. He couldn't remember her name, but he remembered other things. Yes. He remembered now. He remembered very well, he thought with a slow smirk. She was an Avery. Fifth year Slytherin. She would do just fine.
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Several weeks after the first task, Draco still didn't' know what the second task was. He could barely leave the egg open long enough to listen to it. No one else had a clue what it was either and his spies were quite certain that none of the other Champions had a clue either.
Draco's apparation lessons were progressing well. He had apparated several times with Morten Warrington and each time, Mort let Draco control more and more of the move. Of course he was only moving a few meters, but it was still a start and Draco hadn't left any body parts behind. Splinched. Draco shuddered. He wanted to be ready when the Dark Lord was ready to accept him into the ranks of Death Eaters. He was tired of waiting for his parent's permission. Why didn't they see what he could do for the Dark Lord here at Hogwarts? Why couldn't they see he was no longer their little boy? Why couldn't they see the man he had become?
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Draco came back from Care of Magical Creatures feeling a bit betrayed. Yes, he thought, the sense of Gryffindor honor was quite over-rated, either that or Harry Potter was a liar.
Draco had heard Hagrid ask quite plainly—well as plain as the old coot was able to speak—"Ye got yer clue all worked out?"
And Harry's answer a mumbled "Yeah. I think so."
He knows, thought Draco hotly. He knows, and even though I told him about the Dragons, he hasn't told me. Not only that, who was supposed to be watching Potter? Probably they had sneeked off to watch Fleur instead. It was grossly unfair for her to be a Veela.
When he got back to Slytherin House there would be hell to pay.
Just before dinner, he walked through the entire Slytherin House—well not all of it—Pansy did the girls dorms—and charmed every room door to lock and flash: Go to the Common Room, when someone tried to enter it. Since no one got into their rooms, it was easy to have a little impromptu meeting in the Slytherin Common room.
"Why has Harry Potter found out about the egg before any of you?" Draco asked, his voice booming with the sonorous charm. "Who was supposed to be watching him?" Several Slytherins weakly raised their hands.
"I really don't think he knows," said Blaise Zambini. Just yesterday, he was telling the Mudblood that he had lots of time to figure it out. Even Weasley told Granger to lighten up. He had time. He's more interested in finding a date for the Yule Ball, and Cho Chang is already going with Cedric Diggory.
"Why hasn't Potter asked Ginny Weasley?" questioned Draco. "She's more of a boot licker than Colon Creevy."
"He asked Cho Chang," spat one of the Slytherins. "She shot him down."
"But did you see the look on her face?" said Blaise. "She was red as Weasley.
"Oh no, you didn't see Weasley when he asked Fleur Delecour," said the Slytherin who was assigned to follow Fleur this week.
Snorts and sniggers.
"I'm sure Potter will be able to choose someone to go to the dance with him," said another Slytherin. "It's getting really tedious having to wade through his groupies."
Draco snorted. "Potter?"
"Mostly just Gryffindors and a couple of Hufflepuffs," said Pansy. "No one important."
"So all you've learned is about who is going to the Yule dance," said Draco dryly. "I don't care about the Yule dance. I don't care about Harry Potter's love life. I care about winning this tournament. Don't you have any other news for me?"
Silence.
The Gryffindor password is "banana fritters" one Slytherin ventured.
No it isn't said another. It changed today. It's "Fairy Lights."
"Where do they get these stupid passwords?" commented Draco.
No one had an answer to that question.
"So who are you taking to the Yule ball?" one of the girls called to Draco.
He smiled at her. She was a pretty third year. He knew she had asked to draw attention to herself, but he wasn't making any commitments right now."
"That depends upon who brings me some good information that I can use to my advantage in this tournament," he said sharply. He paused to allow that information to sink in. A few of the girls started to whisper in excitement.
"I'm beginning to think the Hufflepuff pretty boy is going to figure out the clue before the whole bunch of you. And you call yourselves Slytherins! Do I have to do this myself?"
The silence was broken by a soft shuffling of feet and then a single Slytherin clearing his throat as if to speak and then apparently he thought better of it.
Draco glared at the lot of them. His cool gray eyes seemed to have turned them to stone.
Pansy had stolen behind him and laid her hands on his shoulders. He recognized the feel of her long, strong fingers on his bare neck. "We're Slytherins," she whispered, and then louder she said. "We're Slytherins, and no one beats Slytherin." Now that she had everyone's attention she said with sudden vehemence, "Can you live with being beaten by a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff? I can't!"
A few of those in the common room murmured in horror, renewed enthusiasm in their faces, but the group of girls had already exited the common room. Pansy watched them go with narrowed eyes. When she turned back to Draco, he was grinning at her. "Think you are going to the Yule Dance with me?" he asked.
"Absolutely," she said, pulling his head down to hers and kissing him as if laying claim to him.
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Author's note: We all know that Pansy goes to the Yule Ball with Draco The question is, what does she do to gain that honor…..Next chapter will tell…..Please review and I will return the favor with your fics.
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