Disclaimer: The plot and characters all belong to JK Rowlings—DUH

THANKS JK!

DRACO MALFOY AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE

By Lady Lestrange

Friends and Foes

Now there was someone who understood what it was to be a Slytherin—Professor Snape. Thought Draco. Working hand in hand with Dumb-as-a-door and yet still loyal to the Dark Lord. It was obvious, he was playing both sides of the fence and ready to jump whichever way was most advantageous once all the cards were on the table. If only Draco's own parents had as much forethought. Oh, well. It was up to him to uphold the Malfoy name. Wasn't that what his parents always told him? Obviously they weren't up to the task themselves.

As Draco passed through the shadowy dungeon corridor, he kept thinking of the egg. It would be fun to be the first to figure it out. He wasn't worried. He knew that as long as one of the Champions figured out the clue, his spies would see that he knew what the clue was too. It was just a challenge, and this challenge, Draco enjoyed. Perhaps it was because the Mudblood couldn't beat him in this—well, maybe she could—obviously, she was Harry Potter's brains.

Draco tapped on Professor's Snape's office door. "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

"Yes, Draco. Come in. It has come to my attention that you are studying apparition with Mr. Warrington."

"Yes, Sir," said Draco.

"I wanted you to be aware that there is more to apparating underwater than is at first apparent. First of all, it's February. Secondly, you will not be able to just hold your breath. You will naturally breath when you arrive at your apparition point, and you will choke."

"Yes, sir." Said Draco, as he mentally tallied the clues that Professor Snape had just given him, apparently thinking that the apparition study times were for the second task and not for the Dark Lord. Underwater. Cold. And Breathe.

"How is it going?"

"Oh, very well, Sir. I've almost taken over complete direction with Mort, as long as I know the place to apparate to."

Snape nodded. "That is always the tricky part, getting a clear picture, even in murky water."

"Yes, sir. I know, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Another order of business that must be taken care of is the Yule Ball," said Snape. "The Champions are to open the ball with their dance partners. I know you will choose someone deserving of the honor."

"Certainly, sir. I have someone in mind, but I haven't asked her yet."

==

Draco walked to the Great Hall knowing what he had to do. He had considered asking many different Slytherin girls to the Yule Ball, and he was mulling over the possibilities. He didn't consider any girls from another house. It wouldn't be right to give that honor to another house. He kept coming back to Pansy. She wasn't the prettiest girl, but she was his. Totally and completely his. She wouldn't try to twist this Yule Ball into anything that it wasn't. She wouldn't blackmail him or sell him out to any of the other Champions, like the Mudblood was apparently doing to Harry Potter.

The spies following Krum seemed to find both Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger at the library often. Of course, that really wasn't unusual for the Mudblood. She didn't have any sense of decorum like Pansy did. Unlike the Mudblood, Pansy knew where her loyalties should lie. She was a friend, and knew how a friend should act. Draco could almost pity Potter, if that was all the loyalty the Mudblood could muster. Well, not really--

And Pansy always seemed to come through for him, no matter what. Look at how she found out about the Merpeople. Plus, he liked being with her. He had a good time around her. Still, it wouldn't do for anyone to know how much he genuinely liked the girl.

He knew she wanted more from him, but Draco knew better. He kept friendship and sex neatly categorized in his mind. As far as anything more—well, Draco didn't believe there was anything more that he wanted to explore. After all, look at how the Mudblood's love life had complicated things for Potter. And then there was Potter's infatuation for Cho Chang. Who could lust after a Ravenclaw—all that analyzing. Draco shivered. It was positively obscene.

No, Pansy was the uncomplicated choice and she had solved the puzzle of what the second task was. He would keep his word. After all, if the word of a Slythern to a Slytherin didn't mean anything, what did?

After supper, he went up to Pansy's room. Without her saying a word, the other girls in the room started to gather up their schoolbooks. In her own way, Pansy was as much the Queen of Slytherin as he was the king. Of course, thought Draco, that was only because of her association with him—

Probably--.

"We'll be in the common room, Pansy," said Millicent as she and Blaise Zambini left the room.

"Fine. I'll let you know when Draco and I are finished with our talk." Said Pansy.

The look Millicent gave Pansy said she didn't believe that he and Pansy were just talking, but Pansy ignored it, so he did too. Blaise just giggled.

Draco kicked off his shoes and stretched out on Pansy's bed, since the only other seats were the uncomfortable desk chairs. He leaned against the headboard and crossed his arms behind his head. "What's the news?" he asked.

"The message is in mermish," said Pansy, settling in at the bottom of the bed and starting to give Draco a foot massage. "I had Myrtle following Diggory."

"Myrtle, the moaning ghost that haunts the toilet?" Said Draco, a look of disgust on his face.

"That's the one," agreed Pansy. "She has her uses, but she didn't want to follow Diggory. She wanted to follow Potter. I think she has a crush on him."

"Who?" asked Draco confused.

"Myrtle-has-a-crush-on-Potter." Pansy said slowly as if she were explaining to Crabbe or Goyle.

Draco burst into hysterical laughter. "You're kidding me," he choked. Potter and miserable, moaning Myrtle? Oh, bloody hell, according to Grandmother, she was whiny and ugly when she was alive—now that she's dead—she's just—just—" Draco couldn't even speak; he was laughing too hard.

"Well," said Pansy, "You have to agree that she's the next best thing to an Invisibility Cloak until your father gets you one."

Draco tried to get control of his laughter, but the picture of Potter and Myrtle just didn't want to go away. "My father doesn't think it's appropriate for me to be sneaking around in it like some common school boy," said Draco finally.

"But you are a school boy," said Pansy dryly.

"But never common," retorted Draco. "So did you learn anything else, Pansy or do I have to drag it out of you inch by little inch?" Draco sat idly twirling his wand through his fingers.

"Well—" Pansy taunted running her finger up and down the bottom of his foot, tickling him.

Draco let his wand fall into the palm of his hand and gripped it. "Titillo!" He said, and Pansy convulsed into giggles with the tickling spell. "If you are going to tickle," he said, with an air of superiority, then do it like a witch, not some muggle born."

"I'm—insulted--" She panted between giggles. Then, "Ok--quit. I can't tell—you—while--I'm laughing."

He removed the spell and she leaned back against him to catch her breath. For just a moment her shining eyes caught his. Her flat and unremarkable face was flushed with the tickling and her lips were parted. He could kiss her, he thought. Really kiss her, not just the little brushes of appreciation that had happened as the course of events unfolded in the common room, and then the moment was broken as she smacked him the side of the head with a pillow. "When are you going to ask me to the Yule Ball?" she said.

"How do you know I'm going to ask you?" said Draco.

"Because I found out what the second task is, and you keep your word—especially promises you made in front of the whole of Slytherin house."

He reached for her, but she scrambled off of the bed and picked up the egg, which he had left on her desk. She opened it and the screeching filled the room. She immersed it in a bucket of water that she had procured from Filch and it stopped, or rather it became mersong, but he couldn't hear it well. He said as much to Pansy.

"So," she sneered. "You need to soak your head in the bucket with the egg."

"Very funny," Draco intoned.

"Seriously, as good as you've been getting along with Warrington, you'd think he'd let you use the Prefects' Bathroom. You can take the egg in with you and listen to it there, or even apparate home and use your pool."

"I'm not going home," said Draco tightly.

"Well, then, I believe 'pine fresh' is the password to the Prefects' bathroom." Said Pansy.

Draco nodded and stood "I think I will go have a bath," he said as he fished the screaming egg out of the bucket of water. Draco turned and gave Pansy a searching look. "When and how did you learn the password to the prefects' bathroom?" he asked.

Pansy smirked at him.

He didn't like it. "You'd better get rid of that." He said with a sneer as he gestured to the bucket. "If Filch finds out you stole it, he'll hang you from the ceiling, or worse, he might make you use it."

"Draco," said Pansy with mock surprise. "I didn't steal it. I borrowed it."

"Yeah. Right."

She shrugged. "Don't believe me then." She threw a pillow at him and he ducked.

"So what color are your dress robes?" asked Draco.

"Pink," replied Pansy.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I guess it beats red," he said. "But just barely."

"I like pink," Pansy pouted. "It makes me look feminine."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Really," he said. "I hadn't noticed."

She chucked another pillow at him, and he scooted out the door.

"And be on time for the ball. I hate waiting." He called.

Pansy sat on the bed for a long while with a smirk on her face. She was going to the Yule Ball with Draco. She had seen the look of passion in his eyes just before she chucked the first pillow at him, but she refused to become just another notch in his list of conquests. She knew she wasn't pretty, but she had something that Draco valued more than a pretty face. She had brains, and she intended to use them.

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Please review and I will return the favor.

If you like this fic, please read HARRY POTTER AND THE SEERS' TRUTH—Personally, I think it's a better story. This one is just fluff for me to wind down after the intensity of HARRY POTTER AND THE SEERS' TRUTH.

A MILLION THANKS TO MY REVIEWERS.

THANKS.

Lady Lestrange

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