Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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

A.N. Hey. You readers must really like this story.

HongMing- Hey. Thanks. You know, I really appreciate all these positive reviews

Leah- Thanks for the review. And you'll have to wait to find out about the power.  And personally, I do think Harry should have a bad boy attitude. J

Arien Eledhwen- Thanks. I'm glad you think so, and if you ever have the need to flame, feel free to do so.

linky2- J Thanks for the review.

Please Review!

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

Draco Malfoy normally did not shake. He didn't normally cower under the covers in his prefect bedroom, shaking in fear.

Not even Voldemort made him quake as he did now.

But now, one evil stare from Potter had him wetting his pants and wanting to run to mommy.

Now that he thought about it, it wasn't necessarily the stare that scared him; it was the power and strength behind it.

Not even the dark lord possessed a stare like that.

Draco pulled his head out from under the covers, and sighed.

He really didn't understand why he didn't just fuck this shit and go off to become a death eater, other than the fact that he didn't want to bow to a half blood.

He needed to swallow his pride for once.

Suddenly, a popping noise drew his attention to the fireplace, where the head of his father lay, scowling amongst the flames.

"Draco. The dark lord needs student recruits and spies at Hogwarts. I'll be coming to get you in one week."

With another pop, the head disappeared hastily, leaving behind Draco to deal with his onrush of emotion.

First, pride. He really couldn't imagine bowing to anybody. Even someone like you-know-who.

Then, relief. He was going to get out of school!

He felt like waltzing around the room. He was going to get away from the dumb school, the mudbloods, the muggle-loving fool Albus Dumbledore.

He was going to be famous. Going to serve the most powerful wizard of all time, go down in history, preserve the family honor, maybe get killed by a bunch of aurors in the line of battle, increasing the family reputation even further…

Draco paled as he remembered the third reason he didn't want to become a death eater.

He knew that he would be expendable to Voldemort. Everyone was.

He knew he would be tortured when he couldn't please the dark lord, and there was the fact the aurors captured and/or killed more and more death eaters every day.

He knew he didn't want to die.

Suddenly, something caused him to glance at the clock and he swore as he grabbed his bag and ran fro the potions room.

He was 10 minutes late.

Stopping outside the room, he brushed himself off, and swaggered into the room.

"Message from father."

Was wall he needed to say to Snape, who nodded.

Motioning to an empty seat, he went on, explaining the potion they needed to make that day.

Draco was still thinking about Voldemort, when cursing brought his attention to the Griffindor side of the room.

Longbottom had melted yet another cauldron, the dark liquid pooling out onto the floor.

Potter was holding Neville above the floor calmly, with one arm, as he continued to stir his own potion.

Snape was cursing as quite a few people who touched the potion started to become pale. One Slytherin threw up.

"HOSPITAL! NOW!"

He shouted at all those who had been touched by the potion.

As they quickly shuffled out of the room, becoming sicker by the minute, Snape turned his attention to Longbottom, who was still held up by Potter.

"YOU BLOODY MORON! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE CAUSED!?"

Snape had never seemed so angry as he addressed Neville, who was cowing as best he could when he was dangling off Potter's arm.

"Potter, put him down."

Snape sounded dangerous as he addressed the boy who lived, who looked up, still stirring.

"Sorry professor. He has powered eye of beetle on his shoes."

Snape became so white; one could see the blood veins under his sallow skin.

"Then bring him over here!"

He almost yelled, hands twitching.

"Sorry, can't do that either. I just added the dragon tooth."

Came the answer.

With a flick of his wand, Snape had cleared away some of the potion, and levitated Neville to a clear spot on the stone floor.

Shrugging, Potter turned back to his cauldron, adding the next ingredient.

For a moment, Draco could almost swear that he had caught the flash of something metallic strapped to his arms.

Shaking off the thought, he turned back to his own "Drought of Living Death" potion, carefully pouring in the armadillo bile.

This was no time to be staring at Potter.

By the end of class, Neville had lost 80 points, and was currently singed up for detention into the next month.

As the class trudged out, Snape seemed to want to say something to Potter, the corners of his mouth twitching, but he kept his mouth shut as the boy passed.

Draco headed toward his rooms again, ready to think some more on his problem. He didn't have any more classes that morning.

As he walked down the stone hallways, he suddenly got the impression that no matter what he chose, his fate would be sealed for life.