The Metamorphosis of a Nemesis

Chapter Seven

In which Draco is still a sex god, people hate Zelda, and we visit the Slytherin dorms for some bad poetry and toast.

The next day, in Transfiguration, Hermione was copying down notes as usual while Harry and Ron concentrated on kicking Zelda's chair from behind. Every time the chair was bumped, it scraped against the floor with a loud noise and caused McGonagall to glare haughtily at Zelda and take off house points from Slytherin. It hadn't been a good class for the former suck-up. She was still trying a little too hard and making up for the lack of beauty charms with incredibly SLUTTY clothes. She was wearing a tight pink tank-top with low rider jeans and platform shoes with rhinestones on the sides. When she walked into class five minutes late hoping to make an entrance, McGonagall had simply stared disapprovingly at her shirt and noted, "May I suggest a size up from that?" and had removed 20 points for being late, 30 points for being out of uniform, and 40 points for dressing so skankily. The Gryffindors had snickered, and the Slytherins had seethed. So besides the kicks from Harry and Ron, there had been pencils, spitwads, and transfigured bits of gum flicked over from the other side of the room.

Zelda had handled all of it rather bravely, thought Hermione. She had still tried to answer questions and participate in the class discussion. Too bad she still SUCKS..

There was a knock at the classroom door. McGonagall answered it.  She was annoyed at being interrupted, but when she saw that it didn't have anything to do with Zelda, she relaxed and turned to Hermione. "There's a message for you from the headmaster." Hermione stood up, confused. She got outside the classroom and was handed a note by an anonymous Ravenclaw fifth year. "What's this all about?" she asked, but only got a shrug in return as the Ravenclaw scurried down the corridor. Hermione opened the note and scanned it quickly.

Hermione,

Severus is lying on the floor in the hallway by his classroom. Apparently he's in pain or something, maybe from a recent visit to the Dark Lord? Who knows. Anyways, I'm kind of busy so could you please take care of him?

Thanks,

A. Dumbledore

Oh, honestly, she thought to herself as she headed for the stairs.

She passed a dark corner and heard Draco's silky chuckle, and the responding giggle of the Ravenclaw who had just delivered the note. Wow, getting it on in the hallway during class.  He really IS a sleazy sex god, she noted wryly.

***************************************

The sound of serious applause echoed through the Slytherin common room. The goth-punk first years were having one of their poetry readings. As Zelda watched, another one of her black-wearing, unhappy-looking dorm mates stood up and cleared her throat, scroll in hand. With a solemn voice, she recited:

The crow calls hauntingly, from its

perch within the everlasting

night.

My shriveled soul can only weep

for those around me;

they are lost, lost

lost,

drifting on the endless

bitter

sea.

There were a few tears and mumblings of "so true" throughout the room, along with more dignified clapping.

Zelda didn't know how much more she could take. These kids had NOTEBOOK after NOTEBOOK full of some of the WORST poetry in the history of mankind. And the recital had been dragging on for over two hours. But the punk first-years were the only students in the whole school who allowed her to sit within 15 feet of them without giving her evil stares or blatantly teasing her to her face. Everyone HATED her now.  Well, except for Goyle. He was embarrassed that the whole school knew about his relationship Crabbe, and was now desperately denying his sexuality. He had been hitting on Zelda non-stop in a very macho manner ever since the lake incident.  He was obviously too dim to realize that she was currently being shunned by the entire school.

For lack of anything better to do, she had agreed to meet him at 9 for some mysterious "date", but was feeling increasingly nervous about the whole thing. She looked at her watch. 8:55. The sooner it starts, the sooner it's over, she tried to reassure herself.

She looked around the common room desperately, while briefly entertaining the idea of dying her hair black and purchasing some ripped fishnet tights. Besides the literary event, there were very few people around. Blaise Zabini was arguing loudly with a couple sixth years. Zelda squinted at the ambiguous-looking Slytherin. She had heard Blaise referred to as a boy by some and a girl by others. But squint as she might, she could not discern Blaise's gender.

"Ahem."

Zelda turned to see Goyle standing apprehensively in front of her. He was clutching flowers, a box of chocolates, and a sickeningly pink teddy bear. Instead of speaking, which seemed a little beyond him, he thrust out the gifts.  When she took them he just grunted and motioned for her to follow him into his dorm room.

She raised her eyebrows as she entered Goyle's room. The scene was a curious blend.  Most of the room looked like a disgustingly messy boys' dorm.  But right in the middle there was a table set for a romantic dinner for two, with flickering candle, a covered silver platter, and a red rose hastily jammed into a beer bottle. She had to step over piles of dirty clothes in order to get to it.  Goyle, ever the GENTLEMAN, sat himself down and just stared at her expectantly. She broke the silence with "It's um, really nice, Gregory," and tried not to sound too sarcastic. Apparently, that was all he needed to hear, because he grunted, "I made dinner", and whisked the top off the platter. Zelda didn't know what she had expected the meal to consist of but it certainly wasn't this.

"It's toast," he said helpfully. "I made it myself. No magic or anything." He pointed to a toaster that was plugged into Hogwarts' only electrical socket.

They were munching awkwardly on the toast when the door burst open and Draco and Crabbe marched in, sweaty from Quidditch practice. Draco was relaying the story of his sexual conquest of Madame Hooch from earlier in the day when they spotted the two toast-eaters in the middle of the room. Draco's face changed to a sly grin. He poked Crabbe in the side.  This jolted Crabbe abruptly and he wiped the look of longing off his face. Goyle, on the other hand, unabashedly stared at Crabbe sadly.  It was clear how much they loved each other.  Zelda wondered why they didn't just get together, because it wasn't like anyone at Hogwarts cared.  Anyone who reads fanfiction knows that EVERYONE in the school has been with EVERYONE else in the school, several times.  Zelda suddenly realized she could get out of the awkward "date", AND hook Crabbe and Goyle back up, all in one move.

She swallowed her toast. "Crabbe, we were just talking about you!"

"You were?" he said suspiciously.

"We were?" said Goyle suspiciously. Zelda kicked him under the table. Unfortunately there was no tablecloth and Crabbe could see exactly what she had done.  Fortunately he had not read enough clichéd writing to know what a kick under the table meant.

"Yes, Gregory here was just telling me how you, er.... all about that time you guys, um... Oh, hell." She stood up. "I don't see what either of you are worried about. No one in the entire school cares that you're together. In fact, most of the people that I've heard talking about think you are perfect for each other, what with your similar interests in being evil, not understanding things, following Draco around and grunting and whatnot."

As if on cue, they both grunted in response. They were both startled by the sudden noise coming from the other person, and looked over in surprise. And then, their gazes locked and they both were drawn in by each others' dim eyes. Oblivious to everything around them they met on Crabbe's bed and became a passionate blur of beefy arms and whiskery kisses. Zelda was pretty proud of herself until she remembered...

Draco. He sidled up to her in the way that only sexgod!Draco could and began rubbing her shoulders and back. His voice was once again silky. "Looks like it was a tense day for you, seeing as your date ditched you. Did you know that 99% of all backrubs lead to sex?"

**********************************************

Elsewhere in the dungeons, Hermione had changed into her nightclothes and was crawling into bed alongside Snape, who was setting aside the latest issue of Potionmaster Quarterly.

"I just don't get it." Hermione was perplexed.

"Hmmmm?"

"I don't understand what's going on with Draco. He's having some bizzare-o identity crisis."

Snape looked pained, and dark. "Hermione," he said darkly. "When I was in my last year at Hogwarts, just like Draco is now, I knew exactly where I was headed after graduation. I was headed down a long, dark, road towards the Dark Lord and the Dark Mark. Needless to say, it was very dark, and I've never told you about my dark past because you wouldn't be able to handle it. I've done horrible things, Hermione. Things that you should never have to hear about."

"Crucio!"

"AAAAAAAAAAARGH!" Severus writhed underneath the blankets. "Hermione! What the hell was THAT for?"

"To SHUT you UP. I've heard that come out of your mouth at least a million times in the past month. I already know about every little dumb thing you've done, okay? I bribed Sirius Black and he told me everything he heard about you and the Death Eaters while he was at Azkaban. I guess the dementors use their mind-controlling powers to gossip uncontrollably when they aren't sucking the life out of the prisoners."

Severus tried to look brooding, but ended up squirming uncomfortably because of the pain.

Hermione sighed. She knew what would cheer him up.

"I've got an idea, darling." She gave him her best come-hither look before changing into her animagus form, a gyrfalcon. Severus immediately perked up and growled sexily at her suggestive tail feathers before changing into his animagus form, which was, conveniently, the same thing. His last thought before they mated was that he was glad he wasn't a skunk or a cow or something, because then he would never have been able to ... well, nevermind.