"Have you ever wondered why you are so paranoid about Slytherins, Weasley?"
Cho inquired angrily, bringing her voice lower. "Draco may have ulterior
motives, but he is...he would not decieve us like that, you must believe
me."
"Suddenly a Malfoy expert, Cho?" Ron sneered sarcastically.
Clearing his throat significantly, Harry gave both the redheads glares of death.
Cho scowled at Ron deeply. "Whatever."
~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~
Sneering victoriously, Draco Malfoy touched the freckle on his left forearm with his index finger, and in his place there appeared a long, emerald green snake.
"You are an idiot, father" he hissed, slithering into the gap between the floor and wall of his room. He had no intention of going back to Hogwarts tonight: not until Harry and Hermione, at least, were out of danger. The other two were disposable.
As silently as possible, Draco manuvered behind the ancient walls of Malfoy manor, reflecting on his hate for the person he was so foolishly risking his life to save.
Harry Potter- Draco was intelligent enough to grasp that he envied the heroic "Boy-Who-Lived." But, still, there was more to his dislike of Mr. Gryffindor than that. Surely his Anti-Potter upbringing helped, as would the rivalry between their two houses; it was foolish, of course, the Slytherin knew, but the rivalry existed nonetheless. Perhaps it was the boy's naivity; Potter's simple belief that the good would win, and his blind courage utterly disgusted one who knew better than to try and save everyone. Being a hero was sheer idiocy.
But, everyone ,except we Slytherins, loves him for it, Draco mused angrily- but there it was again-Jealousy.
"Shut up," he hissed in Parseltounge to his conscience, slithering unseen through an aquamarine portal in his father's study. "I don't need *you* pestering me right now."
"Suddenly a Malfoy expert, Cho?" Ron sneered sarcastically.
Clearing his throat significantly, Harry gave both the redheads glares of death.
Cho scowled at Ron deeply. "Whatever."
~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~
Sneering victoriously, Draco Malfoy touched the freckle on his left forearm with his index finger, and in his place there appeared a long, emerald green snake.
"You are an idiot, father" he hissed, slithering into the gap between the floor and wall of his room. He had no intention of going back to Hogwarts tonight: not until Harry and Hermione, at least, were out of danger. The other two were disposable.
As silently as possible, Draco manuvered behind the ancient walls of Malfoy manor, reflecting on his hate for the person he was so foolishly risking his life to save.
Harry Potter- Draco was intelligent enough to grasp that he envied the heroic "Boy-Who-Lived." But, still, there was more to his dislike of Mr. Gryffindor than that. Surely his Anti-Potter upbringing helped, as would the rivalry between their two houses; it was foolish, of course, the Slytherin knew, but the rivalry existed nonetheless. Perhaps it was the boy's naivity; Potter's simple belief that the good would win, and his blind courage utterly disgusted one who knew better than to try and save everyone. Being a hero was sheer idiocy.
But, everyone ,except we Slytherins, loves him for it, Draco mused angrily- but there it was again-Jealousy.
"Shut up," he hissed in Parseltounge to his conscience, slithering unseen through an aquamarine portal in his father's study. "I don't need *you* pestering me right now."