Tiny Q: Hello! We do not own anything. Even our cars are not ours. Nor our minds . . .
Lallie: Speak for yourself, I like my mind thank you very much. Just because I don't make sense to the majority of the population doesn't mean I don't appreciate my mind.
Tiny Q: You fool! I never said we don't appreciate our minds! I said we don't own them. Sheesh.
Lallie: Well that's different. Are you sure they'll like our story? Will it make sense to them? Will THEY read it and punish us?
Tiny Q: No, Lallie, I don't think "THEY" (Being the teachers Professor York is based on) will punish us. And I do not know if people will like our story. Hope they will though . . . ~hopeful eyes~
Lallie: Right you know nothing and I KNOW all!
Tiny Q: I hate you. I know something! Just because I doodle all class does not mean I am as daft as you have hinted in this story.
Lallie: You're not in the story oh bright one.
Tiny Q: Shush up! I'll eat your liver!
~So ends our conversation~
Tiny Q: Our story needs a title.
Lallie: SHHHH! No it doesn't
Tiny Q: Well I guess that's alright for now.
Lallie:BAH!
Shh! No it doesn't!
Chapter 1
"And the political system of the Irish house elves . . ." the teacher's voice droned on and on. With each passing "yadda yadda and blah blah blah" the blonde's head sank slowly down his hand and soon became one with his desk.
From her seat at the back of the class Ginny Weasley almost burst out laughing. Draco Malfoy's head was lulling to one side, resting on his left arm that was hanging limply off the front of the desk. His right was at an odd angle looking almost broken. Ginny narrowed her eyes. 'Is that . . . drool?' she wondered.
"Psst . . . Annabell . . . Check out Malfoy. I think he's dead and there's a good possibility that he's drooling."
The girl beside Ginny craned her neck up, trying to see past the half-elfin blonde male in front of her. "Bloody hell. Why do all tall people have to sit in front of short ones."
The elfin half-blood turned around with a smile. "It's in the rule book my dear. You should look it up sometime."
~PAUSE!! Short girl reaches out to smack elf dude~
Now, just in case you are wondering how it is possible how Draco and Ginny can be in the class together, here's an explanation: Dumbledore had another "interesting" idea about teaching the students about political structures of the Wizarding World. For some reason he thought it would be the perfect opportunity to encourage interaction between the different years. And just our luck! The Slytherins and Gryffindors have been placed together. What a coincidence.
So where is the Dream Team then? Far left corner. Where Ron and Hermione have been fondly termed "Insane Hip-Huggers" for they are now permanently joined at the hip. In more than one way.
I think that brings you up to date.
~UNPAUSE~
Smack!
The rather square shaped professor turned around quickly with his arm extended, releasing the piece of chalk in his hand, to point at Ginny. The piece of chalk sailed through the air in a perfect very high-speed arch only to find that Draco's head was in the way. Draco sat up with a start, looking around with sleepy innocence.
"Virginia Weasley! How many times do I have to tell you not to talk in my class?! And now I find you physically abusing you classmates?"
Ginny's mouth dropped open. "But I-"
"Don't talk back to me," the professor growled. "Please let me inform you that this is your last warning. One more interruption from you and you will be moved permanently."
Ginny glared back at the professor and had half a mind to show him a finger. Or two. But she restrained herself and sent Annabell her patented death glare. Well it was patented around her family anyway. The short girl blushed and ducked her head down, trying hard not to giggle aloud. It took a total of thirty seconds before Ginny began to giggle as well.
"I hate you," Ginny managed quietly, trying to sound serious but ended up sounding rather high-pitched.
"Stop giggling!" Professor York, the Troll-Hobbit half-breed, snapped, whipping around to glare at the class with his beady green eyes. Everyone stopped moving, leaving Harry holding a paper airplane aimed at Goyle's head. The teacher glared at all the students.
"That's it!" he snapped. "I can't take this dysfunctional class any longer! It stops here!" Ginny gulped as the usually mild mannered Prof. glared at her. "Virginia Weasley. Sit in the front beside Mr. Malfoy."
"But-" she started.
"NOW!" he thundered.
Ginny slowly gathered her books and walked sullenly through the suffocatingly silent class. She turned her head towards the Dream Team only to find Ron shaking his head sadly and Harry looking at her with pity. Hermione currently had her face buried in Ron's neck, avoiding Professor York's piercing gaze. Ginny's shoulders slumped forward and she slid into the vacant seat next to Draco.
"Hey blondie, you have to move your stuff," she muttered.
Draco glared at her but obligingly pulled his books to his side of the desk. "Are you happy now lil' Weasel?" he shot at her.
"No, I'm not," she smiled at him though obviously fake cheerfulness.
"Virginia, what seems to be the problem? You're holding my class up with your disruption."
"Well sir, there really isn't a very large problem. It's a rather small one. You see my name is Ginny. It's not Virginny or Virginia. Its Ginny. G-I-N-N-Y," she said with quiet sincerity. "I'd be much obliged if you would call me either by that or Miss. Weasley."
Professor York threw back his head and laughed. "Oh no, Miss. Weasley. You see I can actually call you almost anything I want. Now BE QUIET!"
Ginny's eyes grew wide and her already pale skin blanched further. She leaned back in her seat and stared at her desk. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Draco pulling faces at her. She sent one of her own back.
"Now as I was saying," Professor York said darkly. "Before I was so rudely interrupted." He glared at Ginny then turned his glare to the rest of the class. "Was that the house elves really don't much care for the wizards of England. Can you tell me why . . . Mr. Finnigan?"
Seamus Finnigan looked up with a start. He had been in the middle of desecrating his desk. "Uh . . ." he said daftly. "Because the wizards try to suppress them?"
Dean Thomas, who was in the middle of doodling up a storm, stifled a laugh.
"Yes, is there something you would like to share with the class Mr. Thomas?" An eyebrow raise over the menacing eyes.
"Well sir, there's this Muggle movie where someone cries out: "Help! I'm being oppressed!" Brilliant movie that one. Anyways, Seamus' comment just reminded me of it. Too bad the house elves aren't as aware of the oppression as Denis was."
Professor York blinked with surprise. "Indeed. See class? When you can relate house elf suppression to a Muggle comedy then you can slack off as Mr. Thomas apparently can."
A look of hope washed across Dean's face. "Really sir?"
Professor York snorted. "No. Moving on." He walked up to the front row of desks and leaned over Ginny and Draco's, staring out at the class. "Since applying history to current events seems to interest you, let's try a case study, shall we?" The class stared blankly back.
"Let's say Draco here works for Flourish and Blotts. Stocking dusty old books all day in dark and dingy conditions." Ginny shot a grin at the blonde's horrified look. "Now Flourish and Blotts does not want Draco to think. They want him to stock books all day long and not care if his back hurts. They want his body to be theirs. He has no assets he can sell except his body and his labor. So technically he's a prostitute for Flourish and Blotts."
Ginny grinned like a maniac but dared not make a sound. Draco's mouth was open in silent horror, moving slightly. "And that is what house elf suppression in like," Professor York said simply, not noticing the class' shocked looks.
Hermione looked triumphant as she elbowed Ron in the stomach. "See, I told you they were suppressed."
Professor York's head snapped around at the whisper. "Yes, Miss. Granger, did you have something to add?"
"Well sir, I tried to start an anti-suppression group for the house elves. I told everybody that the conditions were inhumane, but nobody wanted to join," she sighed unhappily.
Professor York looked amused. "Whoever said they wanted to be released? Besides, who are you to decide that they should want to be liberated?"
"But they're practically slaves!" she exclaimed, her face flushing. It was at this time that the whole of Gryffindor house rolled their eyes. The S.P.E.W. badges were still far too fresh in their minds. Ginny could just see Harry struggling not to sigh with exasperation and smack himself upside the head. "They don't deserve to live like that!"
"They are happy living as they are, Miss. Granger," Professor York said primly. "Would you appreciate someone coming to you and claim that they were going to liberate you from your way of life? The way that you are perfectly happy living?"
"But-" Hermione started. At the look Professor York and the rest of the class gave her, she shut her mouth. "It's not right," she mumbled, once again burying her face in Ron's neck.
Professor York shook his head sadly. "Look at it this way Miss. Granger. House elves are supplied with food, shelter, work they love and some form of material for coverage. They are given protection from their natural predators and their not-so natural predators. What isn't right exactly?"
"They need to be paid!" she said hotly, pulling her face from Ron's neck once more. "They need guarantees for their elfin lives. Not simply being assured that they will serve one family for the rest of their lives."
"And who are you to tell them otherwise?" Professor York demanded. "Why should you be so important to dictate the elve's lives in whatever way you see fit?"
"Well- I-" Hermione stuttered. The class as one increased the sizes of their eyes twofold. Hermione stuttering before a teacher? Unheard of!
Ginny looked over at Draco only to see a big smile plastered across his face. "What's your problem?" Ginny whispered.
Draco arched an eyebrow curiously. "You don't like seeing the know-it-all speechless and unable to answer?" he replied. "I've only seen this happen once before and god damn-it I'm going to enjoy it!"
Professor York smiled with satisfaction. "Good. Now before you try and start a house elf revolution, or another kind for that matter, think a little!"
The rest of the class went by without incident. Hermione, seemingly too abashed to raise her voice again that class, sulked beside Ron. Harry had stopped throwing paper airplanes. Seamus no longer defiled the desk, yet Dean still doodled endlessly. And since Ginny had no one else to talk to she remained silent, trying not to glare openly at the wide-backed professor.
On a brighter note: no one else was accused of being a prostitute. A point that Ginny brought to Annabell's attention as they made their way to the Common Room. Thankfully the class has been the last of the week.
"Malfoy's a prostitute," Ginny giggled and Annabell burst out laughing.
"No doubt," the short girl said beside her mischievously. "With those legs on him."
It was Ginny's turn to burst out laughing.
"Something funny Weasel?" Draco Malfoy sneered from behind her. Ginny paused in her laughing to look at Annabell and then the two proceeded to laugh harder.
Draco shook his head sadly. "No appreciation for the finer things in life. One day you'll learn that you only should laugh when a Malfoy makes a joke."
Ginny grasped her stomach in pain and gasped for breath. "Don't worry Malfoy- ow- Stop making me laugh Annabell- We weren't laughing at you. It's just the combination of the situation and a passing comment about your legs."
Draco's brow puckered with confusion as he raised his robe to look at his long, slim legs sheathed in gray trousers. "What's wrong with my legs? I've been told I have the sexiest calves this side of England."
Ginny clutched her sides in pain as she looked at Annabell's expression. "Nothing's wrong with your legs." She glanced backwards and mouthed "run" to her friend to save her from immediate danger. Annabell paused uncertainly before she dashed off. "It's just that you must use them so much." She frowned at the way it came out.
"Since I walk and all," Draco sneered, his tone filled with bored amusement. "You know Weasel, one worries about you sometimes." He walked towards her, forcing her to climb the stairs backward to keep him in view.
"Oh, how sweet," Ginny said sweetly, still moving backwards. "You care about me."
"I never said I cared," Draco scoffed.
"Pity," Ginny said sarcastically, trying to sound put-out.
It was at this time that Ginny felt her foot snag. She thought at first that she had simply tripped. But when her leg did not come free she began to panic. Flailing her arms, she felt her body teeter backward. 'I'm going to break something,' she thought frantically.
"Watch it," Draco snapped, reaching out a hand to steady her. One of her frantically moving arms grasped his own.
"Thank-" she started to say until she realized that her foot was still snagged on something. Looking down, she gasped. Her foot was in the Sinking Step. And she was sinking fast. Faster than she should be. Ginny, being slightly klutzy, had gotten herself caught in the Sinking Step numerous times before. But never had she not stopped sinking.
"Shit, Draco. What's going on? Oh let go of my leg sticky, sinky step!" Ginny yelled down at the step.
Draco grabbed both of Ginny's arms preventing her from flailing and unfortunately stopping her resistance to the pull inside the step. Her other leg soon followed the first. "I don't know why I'm doing this Weasley. But I won't let go."
"You better not, Malfoy."
"I thought it was Draco?"
Ginny let out a yelp as her shoulders were yanked down bellow the stair level. "Pull Malfoy! Pull like your life depended upon it!"
With a jerk, Ginny's shoulders were dragged under the stair.
"There's no point!" Draco's voice called, sounding strained.
"Why not?" Ginny screamed.
"Because I'm being dragged in too!"
The Dream Team walked around the corner, about to ascend the stair. They stopped in shock as they saw Ginny's head and Draco's lower body braced again the Sinking Step. Ginny let out one last scream as both she and Draco were pulled down into the stair. The last thing they saw of the two were the tips of Draco's Armani shoes disappearing completely.
~*~
Lallie: Anyways please review and help me cure my neurotic need for acceptance.
Tiny Q: This is not a place to cure your problems.
Lallie:I have no problems. I'm just a little bit needy.
Tiny Q: Right….Anyways look for chapter two coming to a computer screen near you. ~twitch~
