A/N Thank you for the reviews. I really appreciate them.
Potions. Draco always had his best ideas in Potions. Maybe it was Snape's inspiration, but seeing Potter and his gang humiliated, even for a few moments, put Draco in a good mood. Petty, sure. Still, Draco derived satisfaction knowing Potter didn't always won, and wasn't universally loved. Aside from the malicious enjoyment of watching Snape give Potter detention, Draco found the chopping and stirring soothing. "The answer is probably really simple" he thought, steeling a peek at Hermione from under his pale lashes.
"This portion of the potion is extremely delicate." Snape reminded the class before barking once more "Longbottom, omitting the rosemary in a Memory potion defeats the purpose completely. Twenty points from Gryffandor. Maybe you'll remember that next time you brew something."
Draco smirked. That the Gryffandor's were so proud of their house, when they had Neville Longbottom, continuously reinforced his opinion of Gryffandor stupidity. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped. Hermione. Draco had to remember the plan. His father often lectured him, reminding him that long term objectives demanded patience, and self-control – two qualities Draco rarely practiced. Sighing, Draco continued stirring. He deliberately didn't look at Hermione, or Potter, or anyone else for the rest of Potions. He hoped they weren't giigling, whispering that Draco could no longer think up insults. That would be humiliating.
"A Malfoy only pays attention to another's opinion when that person can prove useful to him." Lucius had said.
Draco had assumed he wouldn't need anyone. For sixteen years he had reveled in his family's wealth and background, enjoying the freedom it gave him to say anything. Secure in the love of family, and the support of classmates who feared his father, Draco had thoroughly enjoyed his position. Even the Weasley twins would never have dressed as a dementor. Who else would dare to speak badly of Cedric Diggory? Draco knew he didn't have the reckless bravado of Potter, but he prided himself on his nerve.
Draco controlled himself throughout class promising himself again and again how thrilled he would be once he had triumphed. When class ended, he hurried to the Owelry. Seated on the floor, nibbling on end of a sugar quill, Draco scribbled a few questions on a piece of parchment, and then uttered a duplicating spell. Bribing the owls with the sweets his mother had sent earlier in the week, Draco brushed the crumbs off his hands, and left the owls to deliver their messages.
*******
"Why do I think is Harry Potter's most heroic quality?" Ron read disbelievingly.
"What do you think is the key to Harry Potter's success? Fred? George? Did you send this?" Harry asked.
"The entire school has them, Harry." Ginny's observation was drowned out by the twins loud and hysterical denials.
"Don't interrupt us. We want to take the Harry Potter survey."
"I don't think you should." Hermione said. "This could be one of Voldemort's traps. We wouldn't want to accidentally give away any information."
"What information?" Fred joked grabbing at Ginny's paper. "Do you really think Voldemort doesn't know that Harry's green eyes are dreamy?"
"I didn't write that." Ginny protested red faced.
"You just think that." George teased unmercifully.
Harry tried his best to ignore the commotion. "Isn't there anything we can do to stop this?" he whispered.
"How?" Ron asked. He tried to clamp down on the jealousy he always felt when Harry effortlessly made it into the spotlight. "You know Harry doesn't enjoy the attention." he told himself firmly. "Even the professors have them."
"Yeah." Fred agreed. "old Snape is glaring at the parchment so hard it should burst into flames."
Then, suddenly, the rolls of parchment disappeared.
"Oh, Harry, promise you'll be careful." Hermione begged.
"I don't think that's one of Harry's heroic characteristics." Fred joked before Neville's ingesting a canary cream diverted his attention.
*****
Thoughtful. Brave. Generous. Ugh. Draco knew he was rather biased towards Potter. Loathing was definitely a barrier to understanding – still the glowing adjectives praising the Boy-Who-Lived annoyed the blond boy more than he thought. And they depressed him. "There's no way I can live up to this" he moaned.
Curled up in a remote corner of the library, near the fireplace, Draco longed to give up. "Maybe Voldemort will triumph and I can remain myself." he thought wistfully. Knowing he had better get rid of the evidence – it wouldn't do to be caught conducting public opinion polls - Draco threw the pages into the flames.
"Are you burning a book?"
Draco cursed under his breath. Turning away from the shriveling pages, he turned to face an indignant Hermione. Just what he needed to sink himself further in the bookworm's opinion.
