Disclaimer: All potterverse belongs to JK Rowlings.

DRACO MALFOY AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE

By Lady Lestrange

HE'S A WICKED WIZARD

After an incredibly long and boring ceremony to award Draco his prize money, Draco finally headed to the Slytherin common room. He was exhausted and all he really wanted to do was sleep, but as he approached the entrance to the common room he realized that he was not going to sleep. He did a waking spell on himself, knowing that he would pay for it tomorrow, and entered the common room.

"There he is!" shouted Mort. He began singing the chorus of "He's a Wicked Wizard, a popular tune by the Weird Sisters, and was joined by half of the occupants of the common room. The other half was either otherwise engaged with members of the opposite sex, or in no condition to sing."

Camilla wiggled her way between Draco and Mort. She wrapped her arms around him, cooing, "I do hope you didn't expect me to keep the blast ended skrewt," she said. "The Sanctuary for Rare and Extinct Magical Creatures made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Did you know that Hagrid created that species?"

"Of course, I knew," said Draco.

"I still want a ferret," she whispered seductively, as she pressed herself against him. Draco realized that she either had nothing or very minimal clothes on under her robes. Draco caught Mort's smug grin over Camilla's shoulder. He gestured toward Pritch, and Draco turned Camilla in his arms.

"There's someone I want you to meet," he said, "Hey, Pritch!" he called.

Owen Pritchard began working his way across the crowded common room. Pansy was by his side with the omnoculars in her hand. It wasn't until Pansy was next to him that he realized she held her wand in her other hand. "Camilla," she whispered. "The clasps on your robe have come undone."

Camilla swore and wrapped the cloth around herself as she hurried from the common room.

"Ah, Pansy," scolded Mort. "That was mean."

"So." Said Pansy. "Where do you want to watch this?" she asked Draco, as she held up the omnoculars. "It's priceless."

"Right here," said Draco. He clapped his hands and then pointed his wand at his throat. "Sonorus," he said. "May I have your attention.? It's home movie time!"

The Slytherins clustered around as Mort transfigured the wall behind them into a scrying material. He placed the omnoculars at the edge of it, and pronounced the spell to begin the show.

Dumbledore was leaning close to Moody talking to him about the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

"Why are we watching Dumb-as-a-door?" complained Millicent.

"We're not," said Pansy. "We're watching Moody."

"This is boring," said Blaise, who went back to snuggling with one of the sixth year boys.

Within seconds it was obvious that Moody was changing, but Moody didn't seem to know it yet. He was still deep in conversation with Dumb-as-a-door. Contrary to his Slytherin nickname, Dumbledore wasn't too dumb. He realized that the person he was talking to wasn't Moody and he already had his wand out. As Moody shifted in his seat to see the Tournament, his wooden leg fell with a klunk.

"Oh," said Moody, as he pulled his wand.

"Don't," said Dumbledore. This Dumbledore was someone that Draco almost could have respected. His eyes were flashing fire at having been deceived for the whole year, and his wand was trained on Moody/Crouch.

Moody leaned forward as if to pick up his leg and his magical eye fell out of his head as his real eye grew behind it. It rolled down the bench and dropped onto the next seat, continuing to roll it fell under the benches. Moody, at last realizing what was happening, continued to fall forward too, and dropped down behind the seat, changing into his animagus form as he moved. Dumbledore threw a quick spell, but he was too late. There was a flash of gray as a squirrel darted under the seats, and immediately another furry creature followed him. Draco recognized the flash of white as Pritch's ferret.

Dumbledore stood, searching for the two animals and there were cries of annoyance from the Tri-Wizard Cup viewers as Dumbledore blocked their view of the maze—not that they could see much anyway. Dumbledore climbed down from the bleachers and looked this way and that for the animals. Apparently, Pansy also momentarily lost sight of them, because the view from the omnoculors was not of the animals. It was of Dumbledore. Suddenly, a white ferret scampered up Dumbledore's robes and deposited a bloody squirrel in Dumbledore's arms. Dumbledore's immaculate robes were stained with tiny footprints and blood. The squirrel was not dead, but he was definitely beaten. Then the omnoculars followed the white ferret as he searched under the stands. He finally reappeared, and the scrying went blank.

Most of the Slytherins went back to their partying.

"Well, Pritch," said Draco. "Where's the eye?"

"Ah, Draco. It's mine. I found it." Whined Pritch.

Draco leaned close and whispered. "Trade you the Magical eye for an Invisibility cloak." Draco pulled the keys to Moody's trunk from his pocket and dangled them under Pritch's nose.

"You've always wanted an Invisibility cloak," said Pritch. "Why would you do that?"

Draco shrugged. "I could use your help with a charm. Anyway, I'm going to get Potter's cloak. You can have Crouch's"

"Potters?" said Pritch.

"Yeah. Let's go," said Draco. "I want to get finished with this. I have to talk to Dumbledore in the morning, and it's already late."

"Dumbledore? About what?" asked Pritch as they headed out of the common room and began climbing the stairs toward Moody/Crouch's room.

"Quiddich," said Draco.

"Did I miss something while I was a ferret?" asked Pritch. "I can see why Crabbe and Goyle are always three steps behind you, Draco."

"Draco," called Pansy "Can we come too?" She and Mort were hurrying to catch up.

Draco shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

"Where are we going?" asked Mort.

"To raid a treasure chest," answered Pritch.

Once they got into Moody's room and opened the trunk, they divided up the contents as best they could. Pritch got the Invisibility Cloak. Mort and Pritch wanted some of the dark wizard detectors. Pansy took a very ornate sneek-o-scope and Draco took only a plain blank parchment.

"Why do you want that?" asked Pansy.

"You'll see," Draco promised.

The only thing that caused them a bit of a stir was the last lock. When they found the real Moody at the bottom of the trunk, they were unsure of what to do. None of them just wanted to release the auror. "Well," said Draco. "Will they even find him without the keys to the trunk?" wondered Draco.

"Maybe not," agreed Mort as they shut the trunk, locked it and left the room.

"So what are you going to do with the keys?" asked Pritch.

Draco shrugged. "I'm sure Snape will ask for them eventually."

"But he'll know we ransacked it," said Mort.

"Of course," said Draco, "But we left him Moody, didn't we?"

Pritch grinned as they entered the common room. "And we gave him the 'bone of hippogrift' too," said Pritch.

Draco laughed. "I'm sure the Dark Lord will be pleased with Snape—delivering the bodies of an auror and the Minister's right hand man--"

"What?" said Mort.

"Who?" said Pansy.

"Oh, right. I have to fill you in. The Tri-wizard cup was a portkey—" he began. "Guess who's back? Well, it's a long story—It'll keep 'till tomorrow." Draco stretched, and lounged back on one of the common room sofas. "I should go to bed," he muttered as he kicked off his shoes. The effects of the waking spell he had done earlier in the evening were starting to wear off. Exhausted, he closed his eyes, as the die-hard partygoers continued to—well—party.

He heard Camilla's indignant screech as someone dared Pritch, the ferret, to climb up the inside of her robes, and Mort's uproarous laughter. The clinking of knuts and sickles exchanging hands as bets were collected on whether or not Pritch would do it. Someone complaining about spilt butter beer. Someone snoring. Someone giggling. Draco smiled. Life was good.

He had almost dozed off as he felt someone join him on the sofa. Large, capable hands began to rub his feet.

"Mmm--Tully?" he murmured.

"No. Pansy," said a soft feminine voice.

Lazily, he opened his eyes. The Slytherin Common room was almost deserted. Goyle lay passed out on one of the sofas and two of the older Slytherins were engrossed in each other at the other end of the common room.

Draco looked at Pansy. She looked tired too. Her hair had fallen loose from it's clasp and was hanging around her face like a dark halo. Her soft pink robes were smudged with the dirt of the bleachers where she had crawled around trying to keep Moody/Crouch in the omnoculars. She looked awful in pink. Purple would be better, he thought. Or maybe russet—Something vivid instead of pastel—Pastel did not suit her.

Pansy realized that he was looking at her and stopped rubbing his feet, her wide puppy eyes meeting his smoky gray ones. "What is it?" she asked.

Without saying a word, he shifted over on the sofa and leaned in to kiss her.

"Draco, I'm not—" she began, but her words were smothered by his kiss.

He should have done this long ago, he thought as he wrapped his arms around her and twined his hands in her thick brown hair. At last, he felt her soften and melt into him—Her voluptuous breasts pressed against him and her long, strong fingers curled in the hair at the nape of his neck as he deepened the kiss. A long sigh escaped her parted lips. "This won't change our friendship," she said vehemently.

"No," said Draco softly as he kneaded her tightly corded neck muscles. his face buried in her hair. He had expected a hint of perfume, but there was none, only the scent of grass and leaves and the outdoors, an uncomplicated scent, that was undeniably Pansy.

"Draco?"

"Yes."

"Are you giving me a massage?"

"I'll deny it to my dying breath," he said. "Even under imperio—"

Pansy chuckled. "I thought so," she said as she lifted her face for his kiss.

==

Morning came too soon.

Last night, Draco had charmed the blankets to jostle him awake at 7:00 am. On a Saturday. He must be mad. He rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed, trying to remember why he wanted to get up so early. Oh, yes. Dumbledore and quiddich.

Draco roused Vincent and Greg, got ready for the day, and went up to breakfast. Vincent and Greg complained the whole way to the Great Hall. When he got there, Draco spotted the rest of the Slytherin Quiddich team. They were always up early, even though there had been no practices. Some habits are hard to break, and Draco knew the team went flying together often, even though Dumbledore had cancelled Quiddich this year. He thought that the other Quiddich teams probably had similar habits. He was right.

After he aired his suggestion to the Slytherin team, he and the team took it to Ravenclaw and then Hufflepuff and finally Gryffindor. As a united front, they approached Dumbledore. Harry Potter was his greatest advocate.

"Professor Dumbledore," Potter said. "We've not had any Quiddich games all year. It's been all right for Draco and Cedric and me, we had the tasks to think about, but for the rest of the team, it's been hard. Please, couldn't we just have a few little games just for fun—not for a cup or anything—"

"Please," Cedric added. "We thought we could play Ravenclaw—maybe next week."

"I'm ready to take on Potter today," sneered Draco. "What do you say, Potter?"

"Any day, Malfoy," said Potter. "Are you in a hurry to lose?"

"Boys!" commanded Dumbledore. "I haven't said there would be a Quiddich game. The Quiddich pitch is still set up for the Tri Wizard Tournament."

"We could take it down," Draco volunteered.

"If we all worked together," Potter added.

"Yes," said Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang. "Please."

"Naturally," said Dumbledore, "I can't stand in the way of all four houses working together on a project. If you can dismantle the Tri Wizard Tournament maze, you can certainly have your Quiddich game."

"7:00 tonight, Potter," said Draco. "Be ready."

"More than ready," replied Potter.

Word spread like wild fire. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor Quiddich match tonight at the Quiddich Pitch. But first, everyone was expected to help remove the Tri Wizard Tournament spells and turn the maze back into the Quiddich Pitch. The project did not lack for helpers.

==

7:00 o'clock found the Gryfindor and Sytherin Quiddich teams facing off in a grudge match that had been contained all year. The stands were filled and over-flowing. The teams were anxious to begin.

Draco had just a moment of fear as Madam Hooch opened the case that held the Quiddich balls. She reached into the case and released them one at a time. The Quaffle is up—the game had begun. The other players darted forward and Slytherin immediately gained possession.

"Slytherin in possession, the cheating—" droned Lee Jordon.

Draco flew in a lazy circle above the game, his eyes darting here and there as if looking for the snitch, but it was way too early to catch it. He watched Potter instead. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, soon to be the boy who died. The sun was glinting off of his perpetually messy hair. Flying of course only made it worse. It stuck up at all angles. Draco unconsciously smoothed his own hair down.

"Potter has seen the snitch," cried Jordan.

All of the sudden, Potter was in a dive. "No!" thought Draco. "It was way too early in the game." Draco shot after him, but he was too far away.

"Bloody hell. Potter was going to catch the snitch only moments into the game and he was too far away to knock him off of his broom.

Everything was at stake. Draco clung to his broom, trying to eliminate wind resistance—trying to get every ounce of speed out of the Nimbus, but it just wasn't broom enough to keep up with the Firebolt.

Warrington smacked a bludger in Potter's direction and Potter swerved. Just enough time for Zambini to pass the Quaffle to Nott. Nott miscalculated and the quaffle dropped several feet before Warrington darted forward and smacked the Quaffle with his bludger bat. It careened into Potter, and Harry who had almost been unseated by the previous bludger, tumbled forward on his broom, losing control.

Draco was there beside him, giving him a hard push, not off the broom, but back onto it.

Boos erupted from the Gryffindors and calls of foul.

Only Harry seemed to know that Draco hadn't tried to knock him off, but had put him back on his broom after Warrington's move.

"Malfoy!" Harry shouted.

"I don't need to win by default," shouted Draco. "You're going down, Potter. You can just kiss your mudblood friends good bye."

In the confusion, the golden snitch had disappeared.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Angelina took the foul shot for Gryffindor. The score was 10-10.

Lee Jordon's whiny voice was protesting once again that Slytherin was in possession of the Quaffle. The score had grown to 30-10 in favor of Slytherin. Draco sighed as he listened to the commentary. Honestly, if the boy couldn't commentate his way out of the toilet, then the auspicious Dumb-as-door should replace him thought Draco. Who cared if he thought Angelina was hot.

And Slytherin scores! The score was now 40-10.

Draco began shadowing Potter.

Even with the renouned Firebolt, Potter was having trouble losing Draco. It was starting to get on Potter's nerves. "Good," thought Draco.

"Can't find the snitch on your own, Malfoy?" ridiculed Potter. "Or won't Daddy buy you a broom that will keep up?"

Malfoy wheeled around and brushed Potter's face with the tail of his broom.

Potter had to maneuver to avoid crashing into him, and just then, Draco spotted the golden snitch just below them, several feet from the ground. Perfect, he thought.

Potter saw it too, and immediately went into a dive. Potter had the faster broom and Draco was facing the wrong way. With a wild jerk, Draco pivoted the broom and dropped after Potter.

Timing is everything, thought Draco as indeed time seemed to stand still as he plummeted after Potter. This was it. The moment he had waited for. Easy. Timing. Timing….

He laid his hands on the tail of Potter's broom, just as he had once before, but this time, he didn't hold Potter back. Just a bit more….A bit more. ….Potter's hand was reaching. . . Potter's hand was over the snitch and closing. Draco yanked on the back of Potter's broom. "Decresco," he whispered. He had the Firebolt, right out from under Potter's ass.

Lee Jordon's ecstatic commentary was screaming in Draco's ears: "Potter has seen the snitch. Potter is racing…The Firebolt is just too much broom for Malfoy…He's trying to hold Potter back Malfoy's hand is on Potter's broom. . . but not this time Malfoy. . . . Potter has caught the snitch! Gryffindor wi---"

Lee Jordon's voice dropped to a horrified whisper. "He's disappeared. Harry Potter has just disappeared!"

After Draco did a shrinking spell on the Firebolt and put it in his pocket, he looked around feigning confusion. He fondled the miniature splints of Potter's broomstick,and smirked. To everyone it looked like Potter and his Firebolt had disappeared. Draco wondered how long it would take Dumb-as-a-door to figure out that the snitch was a portkey. Of course there was no way that he could have tampered with it. The quiddich balls, including the snitch, were under lock and key and spells all year.

While the Gryffindor's bemoaned the disappearance of Saint Potter, the Slytherin team headed to the showers. As Draco past the equipment cupboard, he inched the door open with his toe. No one noticed that a small ferret scrambled up his robes and into his pocket.

Once they were out of sight of the other students, Pritch transformed back into a student.

"Did it work?" Pritch asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course it worked. Let's go raid Potter's room."

"Do you have the Invisibility Cloak?" Pritch asked Draco.

"Pansy's bringing it," said Draco. "Here she comes now."

"Why can't I come with you?" Pansy pouted.

"Because you have to be the look out," replied Draco, "And here, take care of my Firebolt." Draco handed her the tiny broomstick.

"You got it," she said amazed.

"Pansy. Was there ever any doubt?"

"And the Gryffindor password?" asked Pritch. "Is it still 'Fairy Lights'?"

"Oh no," said Draco with a grin. "It's 'Hogwarts' Victory'. Named for my Tri Wizard Cup Victory."

"What if someone is in the common room, or in Potter's dorm?" asked Pritch.

"Are you kidding? They're clustered around the Quiddich pitch looking for signs of Harry Potter. Anyway that's what the Invisibility Cloak is for—"

Moments later, they exited Gryffindor Tower with a second Invisibility Cloak--Harry Potter's."

++

The pitiful excuse for a body, which Dark Lord claimed, was settled in his blanket under the Yew tree that stood in the graveyard where his father was buried. Wormtail, one of the few faithful wizards, stood nearby, mounted on his broom. Unfortunately, Wormtail was not a very good flyer. If the portkey worked, and young Malfoy was true to his word then Voldemort expected Harry Potter to appear shortly right in front of his father's gravestone, near the cauldron which was already bubbling merrily with the beginnings of the potion. Unfortunately, Voldemort couldn't see how Harry would arrive broken and ready to begin to fulfill his part in the life saving potion. Harry, arriving on a broomstick, would not serve, because Voldemort had serious doubts as to whether or not Wormtail could catch Harry Potter.

Draco however, assuaged Voldemort's doubts with promises that if he didn't knock Potter off of his broom just before he caught the snitch, he would use a second portkey to follow him and catch him.

As the Dark Lord was mulling over these thoughts, the place near the gravestone glowed with the light of a portkey opening and Harry Potter dropped from several feet above the ground to lie in a crumpled heap on Tom Riddle's grave. The impact jarred the golden snitch loose from his hand, and a broomless Potter watched his portkey, and his only means of exiting this place, flutter into the evening sky.

"So nice of you to drop in," said a squeaky rat-like voice. Seconds later, rope-like bounds flew out of the wizard's wand and bound Harry tightly to a gravestone.

"Wormtail!" shouted Harry in desperation. "I saved your life once. Please—"

"Only once?" said Wormtail. "I'm afraid that the Dark Lord has saved my life daily. Nagini wants to eat me for breakfast everytime she sees me. So, you see where my loyalties must lie, Harry."

++

You know what happens from here—

Stay tuned for the lol epilogue.

If you are looking for a new fic to read, try my other story, HARRY POTTER AND THE SEERS' TRUTH. (You can't expect it to be sappy and sweet, do you. I've just killed off Harry Potter in this fic, for gosh sakes!)

And my name is—

Lady Lestrange—

You know me—

"The Dark Lord will rise again…Throw us into Askaban : we will wait! He will rise again and will come for us. He will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him. . . "—JKR

Please read HARRY POTTER AND THE SEERS' TRUTH. You will like it. Promise.

Hot Draco there too—

ANSWER TO THE SPHINX RIDDLE: Your Word

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