A NEW BEGINNING
It was their final year at Hogwarts. The Dark Lord has finally been vanquished and Albus Dumbledore has finally filed for retirement. The Wizarding World was safe at last from all those who have been faithful followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and as for those who have survived, either ran away or decided to live a peaceful life instead.
It was a different year now. No more fear of the unknown. At least, that's what our friends here believed so.
"Oh my goodness, it's so good to see you!"
"My, how tall are you anyway?"
"I can't believe this is happening, acne all over her face,"
"Bloody good to see you all!"
The Sorting Ceremony was about to begin and the students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were excited as ever. Harry, Ron and Hermione, of course, couldn't be any happier.
"Ron! Goodness, you're probably taller than my dad by now!" Hermione exclaimed, looking up at Ron. She was no taller that Ron's shoulders, but the Weasley family trademark was always there. The same burning red hair, and freckles that suddenly seemed to make Ron's face noticeable… at least Lavender Brown thought so.
Harry grinned, looking around the school. He looked down at Hermione. "You've grown a lot too, you know," He said, while running his fingers through his hair. Hermione beamed at him. Harry was right, she did grow a lot over the summer. She found a better way to tame her hair with Smoother's Hair Care. Curves have appeared in the right places, all of which were concealed in their school robes. "You're prettier than ever," he added sheepishly. Hermione didn't hear this, but she smiled anyway.
Ron thought he was about to puke. "Um, well, Ron, it looks like it's just you and me this time, how are you?" he asked sarcastically to himself but couldn't help but smile. Yeap, a lot of things have changed, he thought. He looked at Harry while he was talking to Hermione. Gone was that lanky boy he met six years ago. Harry grew tall, but of course, he was taller. But like him, it was the hair that never changed. It was still messy, and it still hid the infamous scar. And he was still his best friend.
"Man, I'm so hungry!" he complained. "When is the ceremony going to start?"
As if on cue, the whole faculty of the school appeared from a door at the side of the front table, where all of the teachers stayed. The big old oak chair, which was at the center of the table, was still empty, but there were a couple of new faces at the table as well. Professor McGonagall clanked her fork on the crystal cup and said, "May I have your attention please".
Hermione grinned as the whole school became quiet. That was the same line she heard every year at the start of the ceremony. It wasn't that it was predictable; it's just that it sounded like home. At this moment, she suddenly felt that feeling of being watched. She frowned, and looked slowly to her left. Draco Malfoy was looking at her. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that he too, has changed. He looked taller, and better, if that was possible. She dismissed the thought from her head and turned away immediately. Bugger, she thought.
Professor McGonagall stood up from her chair and spoke to the students. She cleared her throat. "Good evening, everyone. As you all know, Professor Dumbledore has decided to retire at the end of the school year, last year – "
"About time," Malfoy smirked from the Slytherin table, and a few girls giggled.
Professor McGonagall unfortunately didn't hear it. " – leaving us with no headmaster, yet. But I am pleased to tell you that things have worked out just fine. Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome, the new headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor Aberforth Dumbledore!"
Applause followed but the students began whispering to each other.
"Aberforth? The one who couldn't read?"
"Dumbledore's dumdum of a brother?"
"Honestly, what's happened to Hogwarts?"
"Don't worry boys, he's easy." That was Malfoy, talking to Crabbe and Goyle, who looked a lot like muggle wrestlers and monkeys, all rolled into one. Hermione heard him, and realized that both Harry and Ron heard it too. She gave them a what-does-that-mean-look. They just shrugged and listened as Aberforth was saying something.
Harry was amazed. It was like looking at a younger Albus. Aberforth had a long golden hair, with a golden beard growing down past his throat. He wasn't wearing any hat, and the light from the bewitched ceiling, which was an unusual Smileys logo, reflected upon his hair. He didn't look stupid as he would have thought he'd look like. He looked, well, almost good-looking.
"And we have implemented a new rule as well, together with the Ministry of Magic. Hogwarts will be accepting students not only for first years, but also second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh as well." He held up his hand as there was a sound of complaints coming from the students. Soon they were quiet again. "As I was saying, this is because we feel that there are children who deserve to go to school and learn more. They will be sorted together with the incoming first years, so, Hagrid, if you please?"
Harry turned around as the doors of the Great Hall opened, with Hagrid leading a bunch of nervous looking first years, as well as some older children. Harry noticed one girl who kept writing in a little parchment with her quill. The old stool was there, and Professor McGonagall held up the Sorting Hat. She called the first name and the second name, and so forth and so on. Students from each tables yelled and hollered and applauded as one by one, kids joined.
"Oohh… my stomach is growling…" Ron grabbed his tummy and began to massage it.
"Really, Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Can't you be patient?" There was no new Gryffindor yet.
"Magda Skeeter!" Prof. McGonagall called out.
The three of them faced each other. "Skeeter?" Hermione was shocked. "Skeeter?" she was boiling inside. She couldn't forget all those mean things That Rita Skeeter woman has done during their fourth year at Hogwarts.
"Whoa, Hermione, calm down." Harry said. "Maybe she's not as bad as her mother."
"Yeah. Look at Lucius and Draco." Ron helped, and paused, as both Hermione and Harry were glaring at him. He thought for a while. "Right. Never mind."
The three of them looked up again. It was the girl who was holding the quill and the parchment. It looks like she kept them away for a while.
"Let's see, you will be starting…" Prof. McGonagall read from the parchment she was holding up. "Seventh year, if I'm not mistaken."
"That's right, professor." She was smiling rather a fake smile, batting her eyelashes furiously.
From the Gryffindor table, Hermione was putting a finger inside her mouth and was making a gagging noise. Ginny was giggling.
"Very well then," the professor said as she put the sorting on her head. Magda Skeeter wore glasses too big for her head, and she kept pushing it to stay there. Her hair was a messy brown hair, which was tied up in a ponytail.
"Gryffindor!" The sorting hat bellowed. The table was yelling appreciatively, except for Hermione who looked like she was going to be sick.
"Hello everyone! My name is Magda Skeeter. I'm Rita Skeeter's daughter. Bloody hell, I'm in Gryffindor, isn't that splendid? And, are you – goodness! Harry Potter! Are you who I think you are, Oh my god then, I heard all those stuff my mother used to write about you before. So are you and that mudblood Hermione still dating, after what she did to you with Viktor Krum? I mean, why do you like her at all? She's so – " Magda was blabbing continuously, and Dean Thomas was trying hard to listen patiently and at the same time not to scream at her.
Ron was smiling. "She's hilarious. Amazing the way her mouth works. I wonder, could it ever stop?"
Hermione was making a fist while she was looking at Rita Skeeter's offspring. "She's one hell of a bitch."
Harry was only silent. The thought of another Rita Skeeter, inside Hogwarts. I mean, sure, there's the Creevey brothers but Magda… he thought. Harry fingers were closing in to form a fist.
"You guys," Ron started, noticing his friends' balled fists. "It's bad luck to start the year with uncontrollable rage, anger and hatred, you know?"
"Oh, and you must be Ron Weasley, right?" Magda Skeeter was looking up and down at him and Ron was beginning to turn into the color of his hair. "Carrot head, I'm sorry, red hair, second hand stuffs, pimples, I mean, freckles on your nose, tell me how old are those robes now? You know you could set a record, oldest robes ever – " And Magda Skeeter was babbling away. Ron was making a fist as well.
"Hey you
guys," Neville called out looking at Ron's, Hermione's and Harry's fists. "Are
you playing stone-paper-scissors? Coz, I think that it won't work, all three of
you, at once."
Professor Aberforth was still saying something. "And last but not the least, our new Professor for Physical Education for the seventh years, Professor Moby Lickorpuss."
Harry looked towards the man (at least he thought was a man) who was sitting beside Professor Snape. He was wearing pink robes, with a flashy turban to match with. He looked closely and raised his eyebrows.
"Hey, Ron, Hermione." Harry called. "Look at the new PhysEd. Professor. What's that in his eyes?"
Hermione covered her mouth before she could laugh out loud. "Oh my God, Harry, it looks like he, or she, is wearing a mascara!"
Ron laughed. "And that's not all. Look at Snape!" he said, pointing at him. Professor Snape was shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He was suddenly playing with the brim of his cup.
"I think there's nothing else left to say. Right then. Dig in!" Professor Aberforth raised his hands and different foods appeared on all five tables, including the faculty table.
"Finally!" Ron exclaimed, grabbing the first chicken legs he could reach.
"Well, dig in!" Harry smiled and started eating too.
* * *
"Hey, Malfoy, are you gonna eat those?"Draco looked and turned around to see who was talking. It was Goyle.
"Go ahead, Goyle. Eat up." He said. "Who knows, maybe one of it is bewitched with Instant Intelligence Potion."
Goyle ate them anyway. Crabbe frowned for a good three minutes before finally smiling and grunting. "Haw, haw! Good one, Malfoy!"
Draco ignored this. He didn't have any appetite. He couldn't eat, not now when he was feeling very strange. Did she see me looking, he thought. Couldn't have. He could feel every Slytherin girls' eyes staring, no wait, gawking at him. He looked at them and flashed a smile. His pearly white perfect teeth appeared. Soon after they were shrieking with joy. Draco looked exasperated. Honestly, do I look that good? He thought and turned to look back at the Gryffindor table.
Well, he does. He grew around five inches taller, and but was still bearing that brushed up look. His bleached blonde hair was shining. He had a new scar on one of his eyebrows and told everyone that it was a cut he took from brushing up against a tree using his Polaris S Type, (the newest and most expensive broomstick) even though he really got that scar while playing with his cousin Nirvana. Feisty little kid, six years old with nails two inches long. His shoulders were broader, his voice deep, and yet, he looks older than seventeen.
Well of course he does. Ever since his father was caught and thrown into Azkaban, he was the family man around the Malfoy Mansion. Taking care of business and everything else. Instead of hanging around with his friends during the summer, he had to supervise the building of a new bar, called Covencraft at Hogsmeade, after the sweetshop Honeydukes was torn down.
His thoughts were wondering as his eyes laid rest upon the brunette girl seated between Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. It was Hermione. He was looking at her as she was laughing at something that Weasley said. He watched as her eyes glimmered. She looks so beautiful, he said to himself. Wait a minute. What the hell am I saying? She's a filthy mudblood. You can't possibly like her. What am I talking about, I don't like her at all! His mind was racing.
"Hey Malfoy, if you wanted to play stone-paper-scissors, those three there in Gryffindor were just playing awhile ago." He heard someone's voice, pointing at Harry, Ron and Hermione. It was Damien Bletchley, younger brother of the Slytherin seeker not long ago.
"Fuck off, Damien," he mumbled as his fingers relaxed. He began to munch his porkchops. Still, he thought.
He looked up again as Professor Aberforth was saying something. He couldn't help but smirk. Ooh, he'll be so easy to manipulate, he thought to himself. He shook his head for the poor old man. He was saying something.
"You lot go and have a nice sleep afterwards. Big day tomorrow." He smiled. His face wrinkled as lines appeared around his eyes, and lips. He doesn't look that old, but what's with the wrinkles, Draco thought and looked again once more at Hermione, who was licking the rest of her ice cream cone.
Desert was almost over and the first day of school is just a few hours away. He smirked as the strawberry ice cream fell on the chest of her school robes and yelled at Harry for bumping into her. She looks so cute when she's mad. He kept watching as Harry said something like sorry and started to wipe off the ice cream from her chest, which made Hermione scream even louder. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She seemed to yell, and Harry was turning pink. Draco noticed veins coming out of Hermione's head. The Gryffindor table was laughing at them. Finally, Weasley took out his wand and simply said "disapero ico creamo!" and Hermione's school robes were good as new again.
Draco smiled to himself. Tomorrow was a big day all right.
***
The Gryffindors and the Slytherins shared their first period together. It was a cool September morning and the sun was shining brightly above them. They were outside the castle, but still in the school grounds. Yet they weren't wearing their usual school robes. They were all dressed in jogging pants, differently this time, but with the color codes of red and gold for Gryffindor and Green and Silver for Slytherin. It was time for their Physical Education.
"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, looking around. "She's gonna be late, you know."
"Nah, she'll be here." Ron replied. "Said she just had to change."
"Girls," Harry said. "Always worrying about how they look. Honestly – "
Suddenly boys where hooting behind them. They turned around to see what the commotion was about. Then they saw her. Hermione was jogging over to Ron and Harry, wearing nothing but a white sports bra and red jogging pants. Her hair was up in a ponytail and she was wearing sneakers. And yes boys, she had a tan.
Ron looked in disbelief as the boys, even from Slytherin (Malfoy's jaw was wide open) were hollering. He turned and saw that almost all of the girls were wearing the same attire. But it was different with Hermione, he guessed, but he didn't know how. And the other girls were now crossing their arms over their chest. The next thing he knew, Harry grabbed one of the towels from the stack behind everyone else and ran towards Hermione, and covered her entire body.
"What the!" Hermione almost stumbled. "What's wrong Harry?" Harry's arms were around her tightly. She did realize, of course that this was the closest he had been with Harry. She could feel his hard chest against hers. Well, slightly, because the towel was thick and it was in the way. She inhaled deeply and all she could smell was Morning Breeze. Of course, the cologne she had given him for his seventeenth birthday.
"Hermione!" She had never seen Harry worried like this before. At least, worried about her. "Go back inside and wear something else! Now!"
"I'm afraid that won't be necessary, Mr. Potter. It's time for Physical Education now." A deep voice coming from what Harry thought was a woman said. "Let her change later."
Harry turned around and saw his PhysEd. teacher, Professor Lickorpuss. He was now sporting a mid-drift tank top, and jogging pants, plus a headgear of the color yellow. He looked almost like muggles do when they exercise. Harry noticed that his belly button was hairy. He felt extremely uncomfortable.
He wasn't the only one in the school grounds like that. A lot of the students began clearing their throats as they sat down on the soft grass beneath them. Ron was stifling a laugh. Hermione was glad that the Slytherin boys have been pretty mature about this and was trying hard not to laugh as well.
"Well, now, I see that you all are well-behaved," Prof. Lickorpuss began, walking around them, his hips swerving left and right. "My name is Moby Lickorpuss and I am your PhysEd. professor. This year, I will be teaching you basic to intermediate courses in how to defend yourselves from fellow wizards who happen to wish to punch you in the nose." He smiled and winked at Ron, who looked like he wanted to get out of there fast.
"Sort of like Defense Against the Dark Arts," Seamus Finnegan thought out loud.
"That's correct, Mr. Finnegan," Prof. Lickorpuss said. "But this time, you will be defending yourselves against, well, yourselves. So, no time to lose now. I want Slytherin boys to work with Gryffindor girls and Gryffindor boys with Slytherin girls. Come on now, up you go!" He began pushing everybody up and Harry thought he smelled like flowers when he came near him. "Grab your partner and let's begin with the basic hand movements. Girls, you need to learn how to fight when your attacker is a boy, and boys, you need to know how to hit a girl."
"What if someone gay attacks us then, sir?" Malfoy asked out loud. "You know, like you?" he added, softer this time. Crabbe and Goyle were laughing now. "Haw, haw, haw!" They sounded pretty much like horses, if horses can laugh.
Prof. Lickorpuss ignored this. "Get your partners and let's start working!"
Harry went over and asked if Pansy Parkinson could be his partner and she agreed. She kept dropping her hanky and letting Harry get it for her just so their fingers could brush each other. She was giggling uncontrollably. Ron, on the other hand, was busy trying to defend himself against Millicent Bulstrode, who was wider and a lot harder-looking this year.
Hermione laughed at the sight of this as Goyle came up to her and said something.
"Gruntgrunt, snort, gruntsnortsnort?" he seemed to say.
Hermione looked confused. "I'm sorry, what?"
She then heard Draco's voice behind her. "Step away from the mudblood, Goyle. She's mine."
She turned around and saw Draco wearing a green jogging pants, which looked very expensive. His hair was still in place, shining under the bright sunlight. His white shirt was kind of tight and it was showing off some crisp and hard muscles. He looked like he had been working out.
"Shut up, Malfoy," she said, despite her wobbly knees. He was looking so cute. "Who said I want to be your partner?"
Draco came up close to her and her head was tilting up to him. Wow, he was tall. His eyes seem to pierce her and she felt like she needed to faint. He smelled so dark, so, naughty. Hermione's mind was playing a trick on her.
Draco realized this and was smirking. "Honestly Granger, you'd really want to be stuck with one of them?" He pointed at Crabbe and Goyle, who decided to be partners instead and were now just hitting each other.
"Oi! You two over there!" Prof. Lickorpuss called out to Draco and Hermione. "Let's see some hand working!"
Hermione inhaled deeply. "Yes, Professor," she said.
Soon, they were copying Prof. Lickorpuss' movements. One, Two, One, Two, Punch, Jab, Jab, Punch, Jab, Duck! Hermione couldn't believe it. She was actually having fun. This is better that Quidditch, she thought.
"So this is how it feels like, working with a mudblood," Draco said.
"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy, if you want to preserve your precious little nose."
"Ah, being a bitch now, aren't we? Tell me more, I just love it."
"Oh, and you being a sick bastard just makes me all excited."
Draco suddenly ducked Hermione's fist. "Excited isn't all you're going to feel when I'm through with you," he smirked again.
Ooh, why does he have to smile like that, Hermione thought. One, Two, One, Two. "Fuck you, Malfoy," was all she could say.
"Ah, that's more I like it," He raised his eyebrow. "Right here, right now?"
At that, Hermione ducked and used her leg to trip Malfoy, sending him lying on the ground. Some girls saw this and began hollering.
"You go, girl!" Susan Bones yelled and almost got hit by her partner.
Hermione smiled at them. Then she bent down to say something to Draco. He could now see more that what was already exposed. "You see Malfoy, you're not that lucky," she said, and smiled triumphantly.
He lowered his voice. Hermione noticed his eyes darkening. "Oh, but I am," he growled, and did the same maneuver to her. Hermione screamed and was immediately on the ground beside him. Everything after that happened so fast. In one swift movement, Draco was on top of her just as Harry and Ron, who were on the other side of the field, were rushing towards them. Everyone was watching them.
Hermione couldn't believe it. He was on top of her. Only the sexiest human being alive. Draco Malfoy. Even his name sounded sexy. She felt his belt hard between her legs. Wait a second. Did jogging pants have belts? Oh my God. Was that what she thought it was? Mama Mia!
She shook her head, trying to rid herself of those cruel, cruel, then again, sort of true, (what the hell) really, really true thoughts.
"Meet me next week at the lake at midnight," he looked at her with soft eyes. "Please," he added.
For a while the Draco Malfoy she used to know had disappeared and what she saw with her own eyes was a newly changed young man.
Suddenly Draco was pushed roughly to his feet and realized that Harry was doing this to him. Ron grabbed Hermione gently by her arm.
"Are you okay Hermione? Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you?" Ron was searching her for any sign of bruise.
"I'm fine, Ron, thanks," she said, still a bit dazed at what happened.
"Are you sure?" he looked like an earnest little puppy with red hair.
"I'm sure Ron," Hermione said firmly, patting Ron at the back. Harry and Draco however, did not look like they were okay.
Harry had never been so angry in all his life. Sure he's been mad at Malfoy before. Sure, he used to think that if killing wasn't a mortal sin and not to mention, a life sentence in Azkaban, he would have killed Malfoy a long time ago. But now, he wished more that ever to rid the world of one Draco Malfoy.
I cannot believe I did that. Draco's mind was working in knots as he was yelling at Harry and vice versa. What's wrong with me? He remembered Hermione under him, and the feeling of completion. She looked so beautiful with her hair tied back, so he saw more of her angelic face. He didn't notice everything else around them. All that mattered was him and Hermione. And just for that split second, everything felt so right.
"What the bloody hell were you doing, lying on top of her?"
"What the hell do you care, Potter?"
"Malfoy, you bastard! Never lay hands on Hermione!"
"I don't see your fuckin' name on her, Potter! And don't you bloody tell me what to do! You're not my father!"
"Yeah, that's right, Malfoy! 'Coz you're father's as good as dead, rotting in Azkaban!"
Draco was shocked for a mere one hundredth of a second. No one had the guts to insult his father before. He was impressed. Finally he smirked.
"At least my parents are alive, Potter," he said at last, with a tone of victory.
And Harry Potter lost his cool. He could have beaten Malfoy to death had it not been for the Gryffindor boys who grabbed him before he could lunge at him. Harry Potter pointed a finger at Draco Malfoy instead.
"Stay away from my girl," he finally said. Draco looked at him coldly.
"Ahem," someone cleared his throat. "I beg your pardon, but you seem to be forgetting your dear old professor watching your hormones raging."
The students all turned around. Prof. Lickorpuss was sitting on a stool and he managed to summon a bag of Powpow's Popcorn without anyone noticing. He was watching.
"Oh, don't mind me," Prof. Lickorpuss smiled. "Do go on."
Everyone was frozen in his or her places. They were either too scared to see a mad gay fuming or they were just too shocked to see what had just happened. Draco Malfoy on Hermione Granger? Harry Potter's girl? Even Ron was shocked. All of them stayed put.
"Ah, didn't think so." Prof. Lickorpuss stood up and walked towards them. "Right then. Ten points from Gryffindor and Slytherin. Potter, Malfoy? Detention."
"What about me, professor?" Hermione asked. She was surprised at Harry's sudden outburst, but she was even surprised that Draco and Harry were fighting over her.
"Oh, you don't deserve detention, dearie," Prof. Lickorpuss winked at her. "It's not your fault boys are fighting over you. However, they should learn how to control your anger. You see, controlling your anger is one of the most important things in defense. Let's see, we still have time, everyone, copy this!"
Hermione began copying down notes. She was sitting beside Ron. She couldn't talk to Harry and she certainly couldn't face Draco. At the corner of her eye, she noticed that Magda Skeeter wasn't copying at all. She was writing furiously on her parchment, fixing her glasses all the time. She could have sworn she was smiling.
Something's wrong with that girl, she thought.
***
The night was quiet, and the crickets' sounds were filling the cold midnight air. The Wizarding World has never been so safe. Everyone was fast asleep in their beds, not scared of the unknown, and not waiting for the unexpected. Some might still be at Hogsmeade, having a couple of late night drinks, or just walking around the village. But this time, no one will ever watch over his back again.
At the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris were walking around the school one last time, checking if every door was locked, and hoping to catch students who crept around, up to no good, as they reckon. Upstairs in the fourth floor, Aberforth Dumbledore was snoring peacefully in his canopy bed and all of the paintings that hung on the great walls in the school were in deep slumber. It was a peaceful night.
Everyone in the great castle was fast asleep. Or so they thought.
* * *
Hermione kept tossing and turning under the covers of her bed that night. She couldn't sleep very well. All she could think about was Draco's face looking straight back at her, so close and so, gentle. She kept thinking that it was her hormones that were making her think and feel this way about Malfoy. It's not her fault she's attracted to somebody like him. And yet, it wasn't just the face, or the body……. it was something else.
Hermione twisted around one more time. It was a chilly night and she shivered a bit under her blanket. There's this feeling that you sometimes have when you're so sure about something, something that you don't need proof anymore… Draco has changed a lot, and the only proof she needed was the look in his eyes. For that split second, she knew. It was something that didn't need any logic or books or cleverness to explain how she felt. She was feeling something towards Draco all right, and she knew what it was called, but she was still afraid to admit it to herself yet.
But then again, there was Harry.
My girl. Those two words kept running through her head the whole day. Stay away from my girl. When was she ever his girl? Of course, a few years ago, she and Harry and Ron were very close friends, friends who would do anything for each other. They've been through a lot of thick and thins most friends their age would just be imagining about.
That day, Hermione would have died hearing those words she always hoped for Harry to say. My girl. For the last six years of her life, she has been trying very hard to show Harry how she felt about him. She did everything she could to save Harry from danger, always helped him with his homework, and yet, she always thought that Harry might have only taken these as friendly gestures.
Boy, was she ever wrong. Today, she just found out that Harry Potter felt the same thing as she did. Today, she also found out that her feelings towards Draco have changed faster than she could say Hogwarts: A History.
Hermione bit her lip as she turned around once more. Was it possible to fall in love with Harry and Draco at the same time?
* * *
Professor Lickorpuss lay with her hands behind her head, I mean, his head that night. He was filled with so much mixed emotions that he couldn't stop chuckling to himself… I'm sorry, giggling.
He was so attracted to red heads and seeing a fine one himself on his first day of teaching at Hogwarts, it was too much. Ron Weasley, Ronald Weasley…
Professor Lickorpuss sighed. Too bad student-teacher relationships are against school policies. Oh well. Flirting around with him isn't against the rules. He did fancy another faculty member like himself though… and he was a lot better looking anyway…
* * *
Harry Potter was crying softly to himself that night. He didn't cry like he was ashamed of feeling tears go down his cheeks that night, or like he cried stubbornly, feeling too proud to be crying. But he wasn't crying openly either. He was just letting something that he's been keeping to himself for a long time. He was just letting everything go.
He's just been through a lot. It was so unfair. Last year, especially. Harry felt a tear crawl down his left cheek as visions of the past came flooding in his mind.
The Death-Eaters have finally been caught by the Ministry of Magic and were each sentenced a lifetime in Azkaban. It was only Lucius Malfoy who kept his head up, even as the magical bars closed and locked in front of him, the Daily Prophet had said, "… And young Malfoy, held his head up to his father too, a sign of the Malfoy Pride." There was no news about Draco being devastated about it, nor happy and relieved. He was just, indifferent.
Harry was twisting and turning in the darkness as his thoughts continued.
Harry Potter had come face to face for the last time with Voldemort that same year, after the Death-Eaters' fall. He would have died, had it not been for the real Albus Dumbledore who had come, helped, and saved his life. He remembered it so clearly.
Harry felt blood oozing down his head. Voldemort lifted his wand and shouted "Avada Kedavra!" and just as soon as the green light appeared, Dumbledore appeared out of nowhere and stepped in front of Harry, right in the target.
Harry wasn't sure of what happened next. He remembered standing in awe. Dumbledore had a kind of force field around him, and it blocked Voldemort's curse. But it was draining him. Harry had never seen Dumbledore so powerful yet weak before. The next thing he heard was the thing he regretted hearing.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Voldemort stumbled on the floor in front of him. He was dead. Dumbledore collapsed in Harry's arms, weak, but alive.
"Professor!" Harry exclaimed. "Are you all right? I'll get some help. Help! Somebody, please!"
Dumbledore put a finger over his lips. "Shh…" he said to quiet Harry. "I've always been proud of you Harry Potter," Dumbledore had said that night. "But I always thought how much more proud I would be if I had a son just like you."
"Please don't talk like that professor," Harry had said, trembling.
"I've always treated you like the son I never had,"
"You're like a father to me, Professor," Harry choked back tears. "So don't leave me. Please."
The following day after Voldemort had been killed, everyone celebrated, everyone except Hogwarts' Faculty, who knew the truth, as well as Ron, Hermione and Harry.
Albus Dumbledore didn't retire at all. He was also in Azkaban, sentenced for life, for giving one of the Unforgivable Curses to another wizard, however evil that wizard might be. But it was a special care Azkaban, one with no dementors, just like a house arrest. But Harry didn't care. They took away Dumbledore.
First his parents, then Dumbledore, and now the only girl he's ever loved.
Damn it, he thought. His tears were uncontrollable now. If the Daily Prophet could see him now, HARRY POTTER, LOVESTRUCK, DEFENSELESS AND WEAK, he imagined the Prophet would say. Why hadn't he told Hermione how he felt, when he had the chance? Why didn't he tell her that she meant the whole world to him? Why didn't he tell her that she was the only one he ever cared about, the only one he ever thought about, the only one he couldn't live without? Why didn't he tell her how much he loved her?
I'm so tired, it's so unfair, he thought. God damn that Malfoy. What the hell am I supposed to do now?
Harry cried himself to sleep that night.
***
That same night, Draco Malfoy was lying awake in his bed. He was wearing silky green pajamas with a silver snake embroidered in the chest pocket, and his bed was black, made of genuine expensive leather. His arms were folded behind his head, his legs, crossed under the covers, and his eyes stared into nothingness. He was thinking about so many things, his head was racing so fast he swore it could explode. He was just having a very bad migraine, but his face didn't show it. Instead, his face showed a young man, smirking, like nothing was ever wrong.
He had been thinking about lots of things. Ever since his father was locked behind the bars of Azkaban, he was burdened with the many things that his father left for him. The business, the family fortune, making sure every house-elf was punished; it was a hard task being a Malfoy. Covencraft, his new disco pub, was going to open soon and it would bring it a lot of galleons to add to the Malfoy wealth. He had a lot of ideas all stuck in his head that were never heard by his father.
His father. Draco shook his head and smirked once more. His father. Was that what he was to call him? A father? If he remembered correctly, a father was supposed to be someone who spends time with his son, who protects him and cares for him. A father is not someone who leaves his son alone. A father is not a man who hits his wife every time. A father was supposed to love.
So far, Lucius had been contrary to everything he thought of as a father. Fuck that son of a bitch. That bastard. Draco had always despised his father. He thought of all that Malfoy Pride, Malfoy Wealth, Malfoy this and Malfoy that. These were all just plain bullshit. He hated his father being a Death-Eater. A hatred that he hid quite very well, acting as though he liked all the killings and tortures his father along with his nasty friends has done.
His thoughts were disturbed a bit because he heard Goyle moaning and groaning in his bed, and was hearing a soft fast movement. Draco thought for a while and figured out that Goyle was probably just dreaming.
Nevertheless, he still had to go on with the acting. He had to pretend he was as bad and as wicked as the other Malfoys have been. It's always been the way things were. While his father was in Azkaban, his mother in the intensive care unit once more at St. Mungo's Hospital, Draco had to pretend that everything was fine. He was on the verge of being crazy had it not been for someone who always gave him strength and the inspiration to go on.
Hermione Granger. What a disgrace Draco would have been to the Malfoys if they found out that he was in love with a mudblood. Draco grinned. He has done a very good job, pretending he loathed her ever since first year started. Draco sighed. You've been in love with the same girl for a long time and only after six years did you have the courage to tell her, he thought. He remembered second year, when he told her that he was a mudblood, and he knew she had cried back then. Oh how he would give anything to take back what he said, to stop her tears from falling. Fourth year, during the Yule Ball, she had simply taken his breath away. Now, seeing her as beautiful as ever, and this being the final year, he knew he was never going to see her again. Might as well tell her now, he had thought that day. So first thing in the morning, he did.
Now that fast movement he heard in Goyle's bed was becoming faster and he was moaning a bit louder that the usual. Draco decided to ignore this.
He frowned for a moment. One thing was keeping him for everything to go smoothly, though. Harry Potter, every fucking time. Damn it. When was Hermione ever his girl? For all he knew, he had taken her for granted. He had seen the way Hermione had stared at Harry when she thought Harry wasn't looking at her. But what she didn't know was that Draco was looking at her, from the other side of the Great Hall. Draco had always been looking at her. And he had seen they way Harry had treated Hermione, the way he had treated her simply like a friend. It's Potter's loss, he thought. It's his fuckin' loss.
"Aaahh…." Came Goyle's moaning once more.
"Damn it, Goyle!" Draco yelled and threw himself to the other side of the room, where Goyle was supposed to be sleeping. He went over there pulled the covers up swiftly before Goyle could even react.
"Oh, shit!" Goyle said as Draco stared in disbelief. He immediately pulled the blanket back to cover himself up to his chin. He saw Malfoy smirking, and boy did he hate that grin.
"All right, then," Draco chuckled. "After you're done jerking off, could you please quiet down and get some sleep?"
Goyle mumbled probably all the swear words that he knew. Draco only laughed and shook his head.
Soon after that, everything was quiet again. Draco was feeling different now. He remembered how Hermione had looked so great this morning during their PhysEd class. She looked so sexy. He didn't mean to be on top of her, but he liked it, her soft body against his hard muscles, her full, untouched breasts…
"Oh, man", he thought.
He felt it shaking, wanting desperate to go up. He looked around the room, to see if Crabbe and Goyle were both sleeping. After making sure that they were, he put one hand under the covers and decided to take matters for himself.