Old Author's Note (Abridged): First, thanks for the reviews. As for this chapter, I want you all to know in advance that I like both Hermione and McGonagall very much. But McGonagall, like Dumbledore, has to own up to her mistakes eventually and having Lucius go on a rampage and kill her didn't seem that prudent; I hope you like the alternative. As for Hermione, she was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
**Billywigs are described in Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them as insects whose bite causes the victim to temporarily levitate above the ground. Alas, as with all the characters in this fic (save for Flare, Lynda, and the odd extra or two), I cannot claim credit for their creation.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. You knew that.
My Angel is a Dragon, My Devil is a Snake
-Catspook
Chapter 12: Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor of the Year
"Goodbye, Draco. Owl me tonight so I know you got there safely..."
"And I'll owl you if I have any problems. I'll go to the nurse if I get ill. I'll use the panther if it gets cold. I know, I know."
Oh, Lucius knew he babied him too much... "I have to go now," Draco continued, hugging Lucius tightly. "Yule was wonderful; I love you. Owl me if you want to talk."
"I love you too, precious."
"Goodbye, father." And he hurried to get onto the Hogwarts' Express before it started moving.
"Good morning, Lucius. Did you have a good holiday?" a voice behind Lucius suddenly asked.
Lucius turned. "Lynda, good morning."
"So did you have a good holiday?"
Typical Lynda, she never dropped a question until she got an answer. "My holidays were very pleasant. Yours?"
"Hectic, just like every other time of the year. But I love it that way. Can I give you a lift somewhere?"
"Lift? Oh, you mean a ride in your vehicle. Yes, all right."
"It's a car."
"What?"
"My vehicle, it's called a car."
"I don't care."
Lynda gave him a look but did not comment.
"This is a different car," Lucius said reverently when he caught sight of Lynda's new machine.
"Of course. That was the Mercedes; the car I drive to work. This is my Ferrari; she's my baby," Lynda replied, waving her hand over the front lovingly.
It was stunning. This machine was no garish box on wheels; it was sleek and curved. Lucius normally detested red, but this... this was sexy, alluring. "Was it expensive?"
Lynda smirked at him, "What do you think?"
"Show me how to drive this machine."
O~O~O~O~O
Draco, having been in constant good spirits since Yule, was having a particularly good day. He had risen early to watch Millie (He had decided last December that 'Millicent' was too impersonal) at quidditch practice. She had been brilliant, especially now that he had permanently lent her his old nimbus (the only bad piece of news that Draco had received over the holiday was that Millie's parents had refused to buy her a broom; a decision which utterly baffled Draco). Her confidence had increased dramatically since Slytherin's win over Ravenclaw in November. The Gryffindor/Slytherin match was in two weeks, and Draco felt that they had an honest chance of beating them this year. And best of all, the Gryffindorks could not claim that the Slytherins had cheated themselves to victory this time; Flare had been keeping the team the most honest in the school.
After quidditch had been potions, which Draco was still on top of. Granger had been working furiously all term trying to catch up to him, but she never quite managed it (Draco suspected that Snape might have the tiniest bit to do with this, but if most of the other teachers didn't favor Granger, Draco would eat his new firebolt). Granger had made her potion perfectly today, but so had Draco and a couple of minutes faster too. Snape had given fifteen points to Slytherin.
Even care of magical creatures (Millie's favorite class) had been wonderful today; Hagrid had brought a swarm of billywigs. Weasley had gotten himself stung several times and had ended up quarantined in the hospital wing suffering from air sickness**. It was then with most jubilant spirits that Draco and Millie trotted off to lunch.
But Draco was most surprised at what he witnessed there. He had noticed a few girls watching him coyly this morning, but as Draco's good looks as well as his money and family name made this a not uncommon occurrence, he had thought nothing of it. But now the girls were acting positively bizarre. Most had joined together in large groups, giggling madly and passing an unknown object amongst themselves. And they all kept staring at him, an undeniably hungry look in their eyes.
Millicent cracked her knuckles menacingly, intent on protecting him, and the few brave souls who had looked as if they had been about to approach Draco shrank back the tiniest bit. Utterly confused, and the slightest bit frightened, Draco led Millicent to a clear area at the Slytherin table.
All through lunch, most of the girls, and Draco now noticed, some of the boys, kept giggling and making eyes at him. Even Millie's angry glare could not frighten off the bravest of them, and Draco was becoming very uncomfortable with the whole situation. His only consolation was that many other boys (especially Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs) were looking very put out by the whole affair. They looked... jealous.
Finally, Draco could take it no more. He climbed to his feet and approached a nearby group of second and third year girls, all of whom seemed to be obsessed with him. Raising himself to his full height (not all that tall, but still taller than them), Draco ordered in an imperious voice, "As a prefect, I demand that you explain to me what is going on."
Blushing, an irritating girl with hair not unlike Granger's shyly handed him a magazine. His brow knitted in confusion, Draco glanced at the cover. His father was staring up at him. Draco recognized the photograph as a cropped version of one including Lucius and Fudge at some big Ministry function. Draco quickly scanned the captions on the magazine cover, stunned by what he found.
Witch Weekly: Annual Most Eligible Bachelors of Europe Issue.
Our #1 Pick: Lucius Malfoy, Rich, Sexy, and Newly Single.
Enraged, Draco snarled, "I'm confiscating this!" and marched out of the Great Hall.
Once he found a secluded area to read in, Draco threw himself down, opening the magazine so forcefully that he practically ripped it in half.
Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor of the Year:
Lucius Malfoy
This year's Bachelor is a returning champion; Lucius Malfoy, 41, topped our list two years in a row at the tender ages of 17 and 18. Married to Narcissa Black at the age of 19, this wealthy and attractive wizard was off the market until last March, when he divorced his cheating wife. Still stunningly handsome, even after 22 years, we could not help but choose him again.
As owner of the largest, private wizarding fortune in Britain, and already proven as a loving father to his 15-year-old son, Draco, Lucius is clearly quite the catch for any witch looking to settle down in the lap of luxury.
Lately, our winsome wizard has been avoiding the public eye. He has not been spotted at any major social functions since he resigned from the Ministry, only days before his divorce was finalized. Our elusive Romeo declined an interview with us, but we are certain that our pure-blooded Adonis has simply retreated to his 200 room manor to nurse his recently broken heart. The right witch, we feel, would be exactly the sort of thing to restore our suffering hero to his former glory, as one of Britain's most politically active private citizens. Incidentally, Draco, Lucius' pride and joy, resembles his father in every respect, and we certainly expect to see him near the top of our list when he comes of age.
How could they print this tripe? What kind of monsters were they? Didn't they understand what this would do to his father? He needed to rest and recuperate; how would he be able to handle the barrage of letters and attempted visits from the gold-digging whores who would undoubtedly be descending upon him like a swarm of locusts?
Incensed, Draco stormed to the Slytherin dorms, intent on writing his father a long letter. He didn't make it that far. On the way to the dungeons, he discovered a large crowd blocking on of the hallways, cheering on two students who were clearly having a fistfight.
"Stop! Stop it at once!" Draco ordered. They were wizards; they did not have flail at each other like common muggles! Eventually, Draco had to resort to magic to separate the combatants, eyes widening with shock when he recognized who they were.
"Millicent? What were you doing?"
"That ugly bitch attacked me!" Parvati Patil cried.
"Don't you talk to her like that!" Draco snapped. "Everyone clear out of here. NOW!" The students all scattered, except for Millicent, Parvati, and her friend, Lavender Brown.
"I'm getting a professor, Malfoy," Brown hissed, "Bulstrode attacked completely unprovoked."
"You lair!" Millicent yelled, "You know what she said!"
"It was only the truth, Bulstrode. Who do you think you're kidding?"
Millicent began to fight against the spell that held her in place. "You're wrong! You don't know anything!"
"What?" Draco demanded, "What did she say, Millicent?" But she refused to answer or even look at him. "What did you say, Patil?" Draco snarled. How dare she hurt his friend like that?
"None of your business, Malfoy! Now let me go or I'll have you kicked out as a prefect for abusing you position!"
"I'm perfectly within my rights to stop a fight. I'm not letting you go until I know that no one is going to go after each other again. Now what did you say?"
"I said that Bulstrode didn't have a chance with you, and that she should stop kidding herself. Happy now? Let me go!"
Draco glanced at Millicent; her face was red with shame. "You don't know shit, Patil," Draco snapped, ending the spell on both of the girls. Patil and Brown flounced off while Millie looked as if she were about to run for the dungeons.
"Millie, are you okay?" At the expression on her face, Draco continued, "No, of course you're not okay. But you shouldn't listen to that whore; she doesn't know what she's talking about."
"So I do have a chance with you?"
"A chance with me? What do you... oh," Draco finally realized what Patil had been saying, and he was surprised. He had never thought about anyone like that, let alone Millie.
But Millie seemed to misunderstand. "So I don't have a chance with you," she said suspiciously.
"That's not what I said."
"Well, do I or don't I?"
"I don't know," Draco answered honestly, "I've never... thought about you, or anyone really, like... that."
"What about Pansy?"
Draco shivered, "Yuck. I only went out with her that once and that only because I thought my father wanted me to."
"He didn't?"
Draco shrugged, "He said it was my choice, but only after I'd already agreed to go with her. But she's gone now anyway, so it's irrelevant."
"Oh," Millie seemed quite downcast. Draco didn't know what to say.
"Well, um... if I, you know, *was* going to... think about someone that way, I know it would be you."
Millie looked at him in an almost coy manner, "Really?"
Draco shrugged, "Who else would it be? I don't like any of the other girls that go here; I don't even know most of them anymore."
Millie frowned at him but did not comment. "Come on, it's almost time for class." Draco decided the letter to his father would have to wait until his free period at 3:00.
O~O~O~O~O
"Master Lucius, sir! You is getting all kinds of strange mail, sir!" Dibby declared that morning while Lucius was eating a late breakfast and flipping though a muggle luxury car magazine.
"What kind of mail? Is it from Hogwarts?" Lucius' chest constricted, and he was terrified that something horrible had happened to Draco.
But Dibby shook her head so hard that her ears were slapping her in the face, "No, no, Master Lucius, sir! This is being mail that Dibby has never seen any likes of, sir! It is from many strange ladies, sir!"
Lucius brow wrinkled in confusion, "Ladies?" And suddenly there was a gong-like ring throughout the manor. Someone was trying to enter! Lucius grabbed his cane, unsheathing his wand as he strode to the front doors; the tone of the gong had told him that the intruder was attempting to enter through the front gates.
When he reached the doors, Lucius muttered a password that allowed him to see who was standing at the gates. He was shocked to find that the trespasser was a young witch, beautiful and clearly wealthy, but so completely overdone that Lucius felt the need to pull her aside and inform her that she looked like a prostitute. "Get rid of her," Lucius ordered Dibby, turning towards the owlery. The letters and the woman could not be unrelated, and Lucius needed to know what was going on.
Dibby had been right; there were all kinds of mail piling up on the floor of the owlery: envelopes of all shapes and sizes, as well as a smaller, yet not insubstantial, number of packages. As Lucius watched, many strange owls kept flooding in, delivering even more parcels and letters. Certain that none of the mail was dangerous (there were wards on the Malfoy land that prevented owls belonging to people who wished harm against the Malfoys from finding the manor), Lucius picked a letter at random and opened it.
The cloying smell of perfume nearly made Lucius retch. Banishing the sickening musk with a wave of his wand, Lucius attempted to read the letter, but the writing was so loopy and frilly that he could hardly make out the words. When he finally did manage to make it out, he could barely believe that someone would send him a letter so ridiculous.
Dear Lucius,
My name is Belinda Lovewright, and I have admired you from afar for years. I worked in the same department as you at the Ministry of Magic for most of that time, but only now, when I heard how much you are suffering over your break-up with your wife, did I finally find the courage to contact you. I want you to know that I would never betray you like that; if you were mine I would be true to you for the rest of my life. I know that I am no great beauty compared to many of the witches that are available to you, but I am kind and I know that I could treat you better than anyone else.
At this, Lucius snorted in disgust; no one could possibly treat him as well as his precious son did. However, out of nothing so much as morbid curiosity, Lucius continued reading.
And I would love to meet your son. I'm sure you are a wonderful father. Though I am still quite young, I know I'd be ready for children of our own immediately. I hope that you have read this letter carefully and will agree to meet with me. I know that I am the sort of witch who could make you happier than you have ever been.
Fondly Waiting,
Belinda
What, by Merlin, was this? Lucius ripped into more letters. Skimming the content of half a dozen others, Lucius was able to discern that, while some were far more bizarre than others, all of the letters contained basically the same sort of message. What was going on? Finally, Lucius found a letter that made a reference to a Witch Weekly article.
How dare they! Shaking with rage, Lucius yelled for Dibby. "Bring me a copy of today's Witch Weekly!" he roared, incensed at this invasion of his privacy.
While he waited for Dibby's return, Lucius relieved some of his anger by casting an incendio spell on the pile of mail. It burned merrily, and the vast amounts of perfume that infested the infernal letters kept causing the flames to burst into brilliant flashes of color, first pink then blue... green... purple...
"Master Lucius, sir?" Dibby ventured cautiously, holding up a copy of the offending magazine.
Lucius ripped the magazine out of her hand, tearing into it and reading the 'article' about him feverishly. When he was finished, Lucius cast the incendio on the magazine as well. "Dibby, I want any more mail sent from these 'strange ladies' to be destroyed."
"Yeses, Master Lucius, sir!" she agreed, nodding her head compulsively.
Still enraged, Lucius marched to his study, throwing himself into the chair behind his desk. Why did his life have to be so difficult? Of course, if he were honest with himself, this was really nothing compared to the other problems he had had recently, but that did not mean that he would tolerate it.
Suddenly, Lucius got a deliciously wicked idea. Perhaps this situation was not so much a hindrance as an opportunity. A plan began forming in his head, and a frighteningly sly grin formed on his face.
O~O~O~O~O
"Well, whatever career you choose, Miss Granger, I am certain that you will excel in it. I have no doubts that you will do very well on you OWLs."
Glowing with the praise from her favorite teacher, Hermione practically bounced off her chair. "Thank you, professor McGonagall. You have been very helpful to me. I know our next essay isn't due until Friday, but would you like me to hand it in now? I finished it last night."
"That will be fine, Miss Granger," the Professor replied, taking to proffered rolls of parchment. "I will see you in class tomorrow."
"Goodbye, Professor," Hermione grinned, quietly leaving the tidy office. So elated was she, her bushy head filled with dreams about what lay beyond Hogwarts, that she nearly ran into Lucius Malfoy. He glared at her coldly as she walked past, but the chilling effect was lessened somewhat by the large box of chocolates and colorful bouquet he was carrying.
Shocked, she turned to see where he was heading with his bizarre burden. Amazingly, he was headed straight for Professor McGonagall's office. Burning with both curiosity and not a little bit of fear about what the Slytherin might be intending to do to her beloved Head of House, Hermione covertly followed him.
He knocked firmly on the office door, then entered upon McGonagall's permission to do so. The conversation that followed was so unbelievable that Hermione kept pinching herself, wondering of she was dreaming.
"Mr. Malfoy? What are you doing here?"
"I'm afraid that I cannot accept these gifts, Professor-"
"What-"
"As my son's professor, it was quite inappropriate of you to pursue me-"
"For good-"
"And though I can hardly say that our dealings in that past have given me an entirely positive image of you, I was still quite shocked that you would act upon something as trivial and juvenile as an article in Witch Weekly-"
"Mr.-"
"No need to explain, Minerva; I don't want to hear it. You are my son's teacher, and we can never become what you seem to want us to be. And aside from that, I rather feel you are too old for me."
"What-"
"Goodbye, Minerva; please refrain from attempting to contact me in the future." And with that, he immediately emerged from the office, striding down the hall without looking back.
Hermione had never been more at a loss for words. She stood shell-shocked in the hallway for a minute or two, then did the only logical thing for her to do in this situation; she ran and told Harry and Ron what she had overheard. Unfortunately, she did not realize that the twins were eavesdropping on them at the time.
Minerva watched Lucius Malfoy depart thoroughly convinced that either he or she had cone completely mad. She could not believe that he would actually think that she was interested in him, and the suggestion that this interest was due to that ridiculous article in Witch Weekly was absolutely absurd!
Once she recovered enough from her shock, Minerva rifled through the flowers, searching for the card. Perhaps someone had sent them as a joke, a very unfunny joke. But the words on the card only puzzled her.
"Now you'll see what it is not to be believed."
What did that mean? Could he possibly be referring to the incident in his second year? Albus had asked her about it after Ron Weasley had attempted to turn Draco into a ferret, and while Minerva had been known to lie awake at night, considering what the consequences of her past actions had actually been, she did not see what the flowers and candy had to do with it. It wasn't as if he had made those ridiculous accusations in front of the whole school.
O~O~O~O~O
Draco was immensely and wickedly pleased by McGonagall's discomfort that night. His father had unexpectedly entered the library that afternoon when Draco had been researching his herbology essay, and, after the usual greetings and enquiries about Draco's well-being, had told him about his prank on McGonagall. Draco was also delighted to hear how Lucius had managed to manipulate Granger.
The entire school was now buzzing about McGonagall's alleged affair with Draco's father. The witch in question was alternating between glaring at particularly gossipy groups and scowling resolutely at her nearly untouched dinner. Draco had heard that she had taken away more points and given more detentions today than she had in all the other days since Christmas.
Draco, of course, helped fuel the rumors by giving anyone who asked the story his father had concocted ("Can you imagine? Her thinking she had a chance with my father?"). Draco had told only Millicent the truth, but as McGonagall routinely acted as if Millicent were not in her class at all, despite the fact that the Slytherin girl had been in dire need of tutoring before Draco had started helping her; she was more than willing to back up his story. Draco decided that maybe that ridiculous article hadn't been so bad after all.
O~O~O~O~O
...The letter had terrified me. Of course, I always dreaded returning home, but I felt that Abraxas had prepared a special punishment for me and was eagerly anticipating administering it. It actually wasn't punishment, not really, as I hadn't done anything wrong; Abraxas just preferred to call it that. I hated him. I hated McGonagall too, so being forced to attend transfiguration after reading that infernal parchment was particularly difficult for me. The last thing I was expecting that day was to find the classroom 'redecorated'.
It seems that Potter, Black, and their little group of cronies had decided that it would be a great April Fool's prank to 'transfigure' the transfiguration room. They made it into a swamp, complete with toadstool stools and stumps and rock for desks. The lizards we were meant to turn into parchment had broken out of their cage in the excitement and McGonagall had been chasing them all over the swamp. She was covered in mud, flushed with fury. I can honestly say that that was the only time Potter had ever done me a favor. Seeing McGonagall like that, it took the edge off my fear for a bit. Any peace of mind was to be savored in those days...
Lucius smiled. It was the first time he had even enjoyed writing in his journal. He had finally managed to move on from the most horrible memories onto others that were not quite as terrifying. Lucius felt like he was pouring his whole self onto those pages; he was profoundly grateful to Draco for making him do this. It had helped, as hard as it had been for him to believe that when he had started.
Getting McGonagall today had also been extremely satisfying, not matter how trivial his little prank was compared to what she had done to him. It had reminded him of the swamp incident; he hadn't thought about that in years. Lucius usually thought of his Hogwarts years as a bleak and lonely time, but he was finding that lately he was beginning to remember some good times too. Still smiling, Lucius finished the journal entry with a flourish. When he was done, he turned back to the car magazine he had dropped that morning; maybe he would get a Viper...
* End Chapter 12 *