Disclaimer: Not mine, only the plot! We're moving onwards now!
Twisted Realities
Chapter Two: Seventh Year
Draco stared unflinchingly at Lucius Malfoy the morning of the Hogwarts Express ride. He stood patiently, hearing his father rant angrily.
"—laughingstock! That damned Potter probably became Head Boy, along with that filthy slut of his!"
He didn't even bother correcting his father in the fact that Hermione had been just barely passing classes, and showed no desire to be in such a position.
Lucius slammed down his finely carved cane, looking like he wanted to hit Draco with it. "Let me tell you now, boy," he hissed in a false calm voice. He placed his face inches from Draco's to reach maximum intimidation. "If you don't find a way to fix your dilemma, you can bet that you will no longer be a member of this family. Get. What's. Yours," he hissed, raising a sleek eyebrow.
"Yes, sir," Draco responded respectfully, holding his head high, maintaining strict eye contact with his father.
"Now get your bags," Lucius spat, shoving him backwards. "We only have ten minutes."
We would have more, if you hadn't seen fit to give me a three-hour lecture, Draco thought.
"Excuse me?" Lucius growled, rounding on Draco once more. He towered over him, and Draco had the slightest fear that Lucius had unexpectedly learned how to read minds.
It was a frightful prospect, but Draco blinked innocently. "What?"
"Repeat what you just said," Lucius demanded, brandishing his wand. "Say it to my face, boy!"
He allowed his voice to waver as his silvery eyes widened and he mumbled, "We would…have more time—"
Briefly seeming satisfied, Lucius cut off his son with an Unforgivable. "You'd do best to watch that snappy little mouth of yours. I've raised you better, and I'm obviously too soft for your own good."
Draco could barely hear the words over the pain coursing through his veins as he writhed in inhumanly positions.
"You hear me?" he yelled, somehow making the curse more painful.
"YES!" Draco screamed in agony, hoping it would be lifted. It was.
He wiped away the blood flowing freely from cuts he had received from bumping into furniture. "I'm sorry, Father," he apologized in a weak voice, his vision blurred.
He stumbled around for a few minutes before vaguely seeing his father sweep out of the room regally.
Draco rubbed his eyes, feeling an unfamiliar sting at the backs of his eyes, and a burn in his throat. He inhaled shakily, finally getting some focus to his vision.
Clumsily, he lifted his bags, amazed at the little strength he had left.
He met his father in the living room, still shaky, and lurching every so often. "I apologize for taking so long," Draco said automatically.
"You should. You're disgustingly weak, son. It could have been far worse," Lucius spat, apparating to the station without warning.
It was wondrous. He didn't think it got worse. Draco waved farewell dutifully to his mother, who was thin-lipped, looking unfazed.
Unlike normal mothers, Narcissa stared imploringly at him, and bid him farewell with cold advice. "It would suit you best not to anger your father. He holds all your money, and power."
He was also Lucius' only heir. Wouldn't it suit him best not to alienate the only heir?
Draco stared back into her clear blue eyes, and gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, fighting back a wince of pain.
He dipped his free hand into the Floo Powder, and stepped into the fireplace. He shouted his destination without even cleaning off the cuts all over his face.
~*~
Hermione was not surprised that owl had not flown a letter to her informing her of any Head Girl position being offered to her.
With her grades slipping as dramatically as they had been the past year, she would have declared Dumbledore clinically insane for going only on a hunch that such a position would return her to her old ways.
Hermione tried to feel no remorse for her lost friends. She valiantly tried reminding herself that they didn't understand; they couldn't.
Well, not for lack of trying, her voice argued, weak and faint inside her.
Hermione had long since stopped listening to it, and felt it made the voice softer, and far more frail. She imagined it was almost as quiet as Draco Malfoy's must be.
She snorted, wondering who had received Head Boy: Harry or Draco. It seemed too cliché that Harry would get it, but it would be undoubtedly so.
Just more responsibility for him to whine about. More leverage to his claims that he deserves to be treated like an adult, Hermione's other, crueler voice sneered.
Hermione suspected it wouldn't be too far-fetched to assume that either Padma or Hannah had received the position of Head Girl alongside Harry.
Wouldn't it be just fate if Harry got stuck living with his former Yule Ball date? It would certainly be amusing, what with all that underlying tension.
"Ready to go, Mione?" asked the wizard she had ended up living with.
Hermione's head jerked out, momentarily forgetting her parents had died, and smiled at him. She was just milliseconds from answering, "Yes, Daddy," before she bit her tongue. Instead, she nodded solemnly, picking up her bags.
"Nonsense, let me get that," Dave, her older 'brother' insisted.
"Thank you," she whispered to him softly, watching him pick up her heavy bags.
He could have used magic, but Dave had a thing against making her feel bad for being underage. He had confided in her one day how jealous his parents made him as a boy when they freely used magic.
Dave was the only person she really liked anymore. In a joking manner she rarely used, Hermione reminded him, "Just one more year."
He grinned broadly, catching her reference to her graduation. "I can wait," he promised.
Hermione stepped in front of him, throwing down the powder, and closing her eyes tight, tucking her elbows in. Swirls and flashes of green flashed and flickered before her, as the harmless emerald flames licked at her legs.
She stumbled out, dusting off her fine wizarding robes, looking expectantly for Dave. He fell out, bags and all, tumbling to a halt in front of her.
"You could have Apparated," Hermione allowed amusedly. "I wouldn't have minded, Dave."
He stood up; dusting his ruby red robes, and shook his head. "It's magic," he answered, looking down at her from his towering position. "I refuse to use it if you're there."
Hermione hugged his waist, smiling. "Remind me why you don't have a girlfriend?" she asked sweetly.
Dave laughed, patting her head. "Go on now, kid. It's only one more year of Hogwarts. You'll pull through, despite what you say."
"Easy for you to say," she grumbled, dropping her hands to her sides. "You graduated two years ago, as Head Boy, no less. Stupid Ravenclaw."
"Cowardly Gryffindor," he challenged, handing her bags to the attendant. "There's no reason to be afraid of Hogwarts. You are quite friendly, after all."
Hermione ignored his words, and waved glumly to him and his father. "Say bye to Katherine for me," she reminded them, referring to Dave's mother. "And use your magic now, Dave!"
"Will do."
~*~
"Don't you forget to bite your tongue around me," Lucius hissed dangerously, straightening Draco's robes. "You know I don't enjoy punishing you. But it must be done for you to be the man you should be."
Draco heaved a heavy sigh of relief, grateful that Lucius couldn't stalk him in his thoughts. Grateful to know that he couldn't probe the recesses of his mind without magic. It was just his foolish tongue speaking words he dared not say aloud.
Draco was careful to keep spiteful, rebellious thoughts at bay, afraid that he would give a slip of the tongue again. "Of course, Father."
"Remember what you need to fight for," his father reminded him gravely, leveling him with intense gray eyes.
Draco nodded. "Good bye."
Lucius gave a curt nod, and apparated out.
"What are you and your father playing at, Malfoy?" Harry asked malevolently, from behind him.
Draco whirled around, giving Potter a well-calculated stare. "And just what are you blathering on about now, Potter?"
"You and Lucius acting like there's some sort of normal relationship underneath it all. Acting like Lord Voldemort never happened. Don't act like your father didn't weasel his way out of Azkaban," Harry growled.
Draco felt his anger peak and awaken. With carefully maintained tones, he replied, "Don't act like you are so high and mighty. We all know that you were stuck in bed, moaning about the big, bad Dark Lord coming to kill you. We all know that you still have nightmares about your parents. Want to know why?" he asked maliciously.
"You shut your mouth."
Leaning forward, so there was no mistaking his words, Draco sneered, "Because even though you defeated the Dark Lord, a part of him is always going to be inside you."
"Is that something Daddy dearest told you?" Harry snarled.
"No. It's something that's common sense, Potter. So let me guess, you're Head Boy?" Draco asked mockingly.
"Not that it's your business, but yes," Harry answered with a lifted head. "At least someone knows that you can't handle something like this without abusing it."
Draco raised a silvery brow. "Yes, well, it's better than the professors having a lapse of judgement. I suspect you'll keep up the poor Head Girl with your nightmares. Too bad it wasn't Granger, your ex-lover. So, tell me, did she just grow tired of you, or were your 'talents' not cutting it?"
Harry lunged at him, only to find himself held back by his best friend, Ron.
"Hmm, it wouldn't quite be a twit encounter without Weasley, right?" Draco asked, before turning sharply on his heel, and walking into a compartment.
He bumped into someone, and fell against the wall as he entered the fifth compartment. "Watch it," he yelled, straightening up. "Oh, it's you."
~*~
Hermione glared at Draco, willing herself to calm down.
"Shut your trap, Malfoy," she growled, brushing back stray tendrils of hair. "Haven't you gotten a life yet?"
He smirked at her. "You're one to talk. Look at you. A complete social reject. Well, not saying that you weren't one before, but you're an outcast now. How's it feel?"
"Probably better than it feels to be an arrogant prat who has an abusive father," Hermione shot back, eyes flashing.
"At least I have one."
It stung. The words really, truly stung her. Hermione was shocked and disgusted that after becoming so hard to the outside, Draco Malfoy, school bully, could still faze her. But he got worse.
"So I suppose that's why you decided you don't need any friends?" he asked snidely, a look in his eyes that frightened her.
"You know, you talk big for someone so small."
In truth, he was taller than she was, and certainly no longer the frail, puny boy he used to be at the age of eleven. Nevertheless, he was no Harry or Goyle.
"Besides which, I have no idea what you're talking about. So if you don't mind, I'm going to move to another compartment."
Draco wore a look clearly saying 'I don't mind at all'. "You lose your parents—who, I'm sure, were pretty worthless Muggles anyway—and just because of that, you ruin your life even more?"
Hermione, who had her hand on the handle, froze, and felt tears well up. She turned her head quickly to face his smug expression and slapped him harder that she had before. It only gave her slight satisfaction to hear the loud smack. "You can be a real bastard sometimes," she whispered brokenly.
He briefly held his cheek, glaring at her. "Truth hurts, doesn't it?"
She breathed in shakily, and left the compartment, slamming the sliding door shut as hard as she could.
Stupid, rich asshole. What does he know? Hermione wondered bitterly, forcing the memory of coming home to the sign over her house away.
Cold, hard-hitting words. In a cruel way, Draco certainly had a way with words.
A/N: So, there you have it. We're moving on the plot—no stalling, now! As a note, I've updated everything else except LA, because that's just something tedious now…I'll finish it eventually, I swear.
Thank you to those who reviewed for the first chapter, I appreciated it! I hope everyone likes this story so far…
And I didn't take too long to update…lol, be proud of me!
Read, review, enjoy!
[Submitted: December 7, 2003]