The Hogwarts Boy's Guide
Chapter 3: A Settling of Scores
Warnings: Slash, a few strong swear words, and derogatory language
Author's Notes: Well, I've got a bit of news that should perk you readers up. I have a beta reader now! So now all those little typos and grammar mistakes that are so annoying will be pretty much eliminated. Thanks so much to Lunadeath, the aforementioned and much needed Beta reader. If you haven't already, check out her fan fiction which is located on this very website.
I have one more thing to mention, and that is that this week my boyfriend made it very clear that he does not approve of my fan fiction writing. Confronting his arguments really made me consider what I'm doing here. And I have to say that now I only feel stronger about that validity of fan fiction. I don't believe that fan fiction, smut and slash included, is in anyway inferior to original fiction. That being said, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to the other girls (and boys) out there who write fanfic, and have to deal with those who just don't get it. Cheers, mates. Happy writing, and happy reading.
Draco's thirst for revenge on Harry was irrepressible. After…well whatever it was that had happened in Potions, because Draco still wasn't sure exactly what Potter had thought he was doing, he was beside himself with furry. Every time he thought of the embarrassment Potter had caused him , his fist clenched and his body trembled.
The only thing that consoled him throughout the day was fantasies of retribution. He thought of all sorts of ways to get Harry back, some more realistic than others. He'd had to tell himself over and over again that though killing everybody Potter loved was positively brilliant revenge, he didn't want to spend the rest of his days sealed up in Azkaban.
It wasn't until he was lying in bed that night with a relaxation potion flowing through his veins that he thought of the perfect plan. It hit him suddenly, as he was meticulously reviewing the events of his day. He realized that today Harry had unintentionally revealed his weak spot. He'd shown Draco himself just what nerve to touch. He'd practically handed Draco his heart and said, "Here, Malfoy, do with this what you will."
Draco was tempted to let loose a maniacal, villain's cackle as he began spinning his plot. The kind of laugh that super genius mad scientists had in Muggle movies. He wanted to tap his fingertips together and just let the mad laughter gurgle out of him, let them grow louder and louder, and all the while lightening would flash and thunder would crash all around him.
I've got you where I want you now, Potter! He thought.
Prepare to be brought to your knees.
Snape was in the middle of a nice bubble bath when a frantic pounding began to resound around his dorm in the dungeon of Hogwarts. Grumbling, he laid down his book and stood up, letting the bubbles cascade down his chest, over his stomach and down around his legs. He reached for a fluffy green towel and wrapped it around his waist. He tied it securely, and then stepped out of the bear clawed tub. He didn't bother to slick back the silky, drenched strands of his hair that fell over his eyes, preferring to let them obscure his face.
He padded through his bedchamber and through his living room to the door. The banging was insistent. He began to wonder if the Dark Lord himself had come to summon him, with all the commotion he was hearing. But when he opened the door, it was only Draco.
"Draco, I trust you have a very important reason for barging into my personal chambers for the second time this week," he growled.
Draco smirked and said, "Cheerfully hospitable as ever, I see."
"At least this time you knocked," Snape grumbled, and Malfoy junior walked in and made himself comfortable on his couch. He began flipping through a pile of magazines on his coffee table.
"What's this all about?" Draco asked, holding up 'GQ Wizard'.
Snape snatched it away and flung it across the room. "Never you mind. Now what do you want? You must realize you have disrupted my…personal time."
"Yes, I can tell by the way you're standing about naked," Malfoy said casually, "Anyway, I didn't know I'd be interrupting you. It's past midnight, I was sure I'd just be waking you up."
Snape groaned.
Draco snapped the magazine he was looking at shut and said, "I just couldn't sleep. I've been thinking about Potter all day long. I'm sure you saw what he did to me in your class today."
"I did."
"Well, what do you think about it? I mean, what was he getting at? Surely he can't really be attracted to me. It was as if he trying to scare me off, or something."
"That's precisely what I think he was doing. He was attempting to frighten you into leaving him alone."
"Hmmm. Well, he humiliated me, was what he did. Everybody was laughing! At me! At a Malfoy! I can't believe it. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before," Draco pouted, "I can't believe Potter had the balls to pull something like that."
Snape looked down at Draco, really seeing him, not just looking at him. He looked in everyway like a young man should look. He was tall, taller than most of the other boys in the school. Though he was slim, he had a look of strength about him, which was most likely why not many ventured to talk back to him. His facial features had hardened and matured over time, all but his tiny, up tilted nose that served to give him his air of superiority. Over the past 7 years, Draco had grown into man.
Physically, anyway.
But Snape could see now that mentally, he still had much growing to do.
He sighed and shook his head, water droplets raining down from his damp hair.
"I don't know what I can tell you, Draco. Perhaps you've learned your lesson," Snape said.
Draco leapt up. His face was suddenly livid, his fingers clenched into fists.
"Learned my lesson? Learned my lesson! Would you suggest, Severus, that I just sit back and take that from Potter? Would you?"
Draco backed up slowly until he was leaning against Snape's desk. He shook his head, his silvery hair scattering, moving fluidly like water.
"I can't do that. I can't let him get the best of me. Not again. Potter's been besting me for years. Everything I do, he has to do it better," Draco rambled.
Then Draco looked him in the eye and Snape saw something he never thought he'd see in Draco.
Raw, unconcealed emotion. There was a pain in those normally placid, gray eyes.
"When I was two," Draco said, "I got my first broom. I began taking flying lessons at three. My instructors assured me I'd be the best flier at Hogwarts by the time I came of age to attend. My father paid them to make me the best flier! And what happened? Wonder-Boy Potter came along, and having had no experience what-so-ever in his entire life, flew better than me. He was accepted onto the Quidditch team as a First Year! And ever since then he has beaten me to the Snitch in every game we've ever played against each other. Do you know what that feels like? Do you?! To have someone constantly stealing your glory right from under you?"
Draco's eyes were full and wide now. Candlelight reflected from deep within their depths, the flames seeming to come from his soul rather than from the lights mounted in the room. His hair streamed into his face. His lips trembled with rage.
Draco finally heaved a sigh, and his body relaxed. He fell back, rocking back on his heels. His eyes became clouded once more with the shield of indifference. Draco's defenses were once again in place.
He shook his head, "I could go on and on about all the ways in which Potter has bruised my ego. I'm not going to let Potter get away with this. I just…can't."
Draco leaned back against the desk, his hands behind him, gripping it.
"You have a lot of anger inside you, Draco," Snape said. Jealousy as well, he thought, but didn't say it. He knew better than to confront Draco with that.
Draco winced, obviously expecting a lecture.
"Reminds me of me when I was you age," Snape finished, truthfully. He smiled a bitter smile.
A half hour later found Draco skipping somewhat cheerily up the stairs to his dorm room. He felt better after his chat with Snape. Somehow the man always knew what to say to perk him up. No one would have suspected Snape of being the mentor type, but he'd become just that to Draco. Snape had always been a close friend of the Malfoy family, but Draco had only become friends with him after his father had been sent to Azkaban at the end of fifth year. Snape had coached him through that difficult time, and earned Draco's trust.
Snape had become Draco's very first trusted confidant.
With his father having been gone for two years now, Snape had become something of a surrogate father to Draco, though Draco never revealed the sentiment out loud. Snape would lament having been placed in such a position, so Draco kept his feelings to himself. It was what he was used to. Malfoy's didn't show the 'weaker' emotions, and Snape was the same way. To an outsider, Draco and Snape's relationship may have seemed cold, but they understood each other's ways. What they had worked for them.
Draco opened the door to his room and peeked in. Moonlight spilled from the tiny, slat windows onto the rich, wooden floor. All the beds had their dark green curtains drawn shut. The fire in their little fireplace had burned itself into smoldering ashes, crackling and hissing quietly. He could hear Crabbe snoring, and winced. He didn't know why Crabbe refused to use the anti-snoring potion Draco had had Snape whip up for him.
Draco grinned as he skulked into the room. He passed through the thick shadows and stripes of silver light, moving silently and gracefully, floating through the room like a spirit. He stopped at the bed closest to the fireplace, his bed. He drew apart the heavy, velvet curtains and flopped onto his bed.
A smile crept onto his lips. His talk with Snape wasn't all that had cheered him up. He'd actually had two agenda's that night when he'd went to visit his old friend. The second was of a more devious nature.
Draco slowly lifted up his sweater and drew The Notebook out from under it. He was thrilled at how well the theft had gone. Snape hadn't noticed Draco snatch up the book from his desk during his outburst and slip it up the back of his shirt. He hadn't noticed, either, when he shifted it around front to make it less noticeable.
Stage one of his plan had gone flawlessly.
Tomorrow morning, he'd find out of stage two would go the same.
But he had no time to muse over that, he thought. He crawled down his bed to his trunk and opened it, pulling out a slack of black parchments. He had a lot of work to do before morning…
"Morning, Harry. You're looking better today," Hermione said as Harry entered the Great Hall for breakfast.
Harry ruffled his hair, a gesture he'd unconsciously picked up from his father from Snape's memory during fifth year. He dropped into the seat across from her.
"Well, you and Ron did a right good job of cheering me up last night," he said with a grin.
"Glad to do it," Ron said, "Muffin?"
Harry took one, and began to smear jelly over it. He smiled at Ron.
"Of course you were glad to do it, Ron; it got you out of doing homework all night," Hermione said.
Ron just shrugged, not bothering to refute her.
Harry went on setting breakfast items on his plate. He reached up for a pitcher of orange juice when something across the room caught his eye.
Pansy Parkinson was standing up, with her arms clasped around a stack of papers. She was handing a bundle to the students sitting at the end of the Hufflepuff table. Weird. Why would a Slytherin be associating with another house? They tended to enjoy being exclusive with each other, Pansy especially. She'd even refused to date a guy because he was in Ravenclaw.
The papers were getting passed down the tables. Like a wave, mouths began to drop all down the table. The expression was being passed down the line, followed by glances towards the Gryffindor table.
"'Mione, Ron…" Harry started.
But they'd already noticed. They were both turned around in their seats, watching the other table. Pansy had now moved to the blue clothed Ravenclaw table, passing down another stack of the papers. The same effect happened once again, with people beginning to point.
"What has she got?" Ron asked. His mouth was hanging open rather unattractively, displaying his half chewed breakfast.
"We're about to find out, she coming over here."
Pansy moved to the end of the their table, and cast a meaningful look in the trio's direction before dropping the last of the stack onto the breakfast table. They were so intent in watching the parchments being passed down, that they didn't notice the shadow that fell over them seconds later.
Draco Malfoy waited as Potter received one of his little masterpieces. He'd been up all night copying them magically, also incorporating a tiny picture of Potter from last year's yearbook in the corner so there wouldn't be any confusion to who the little article referred to. He watched Potter's eyes scan over the heading, moving like lightning under sooty black lashes. From The Hogwarts Boys Guide to the Best Lay's in School: it read. Potter's eyes fell lower, past the smiling picture of him, to the scrawling handwriting below. Draco's experienced a feeling of triumph as the boy adopted a look of complete horror.
Potter's head snapped up and his eyes suddenly bore into Draco's. Jade meet mercury. For a while, neither boy broke eye contact. Draco felt an almost tangible sensation of intensity between them. He found could not look away. There was something hypnotic in those green eyes. Something mesmerizing.
"Malfoy," he growled, bring Draco back to reality.
Draco adopted an acidic grin, "Potter." He reached into his robes and pulled out the tattered old Notebook and tossed it at the black haired boy. It landed on his plate, knocking his orange juice over. "I just thought you might want to see the original copy of what was written about you."
Potter didn't even look down at it. He refused to look away from Draco, his gaze becoming more severe by the second. The tiny, zigzag scar on Harry's forehead turned from pink to white. He slowly lifted his fist, clutching the printed copy of the page with the entry about him.
"Why?" he asked.
"Why, what, Potter? You're going to have to be a bit more specific with your questions."
"Why did you do this?"
"How do you even know it was me?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Get off it, Malfoy!" Potter finally exploded, "Who else would do this? Who else could do something like this?"
"What are you trying to insinuate about my character?"
Potter's eye's turned suddenly greener, brighter, glowing from within. It was actually quite scary. "I guess I'm insinuating that you've got frozen water flowing through your veins and a huge gaping black hole where you're heart ought to be.
Draco struggled to remain nonchalant at this accusation. He rolled his eyes and said, "All right, you got me. I did it. You have to admit, it's a lovely bit of work. I spent a long time arranging it- "
Potter stood up suddenly and grabbed Draco's collar. He dragged him across the table with a force Draco hadn't anticipated. He had to brace himself quickly, sacrificing stomping one hand into a pat of butter, to keep from being yanked off of his feet.
For the second time in two days, Draco found himself within snogging distance of Harry Potter. His breath came hot across his lips.
"Malfoy, I don't know what you're out to do to me, but it's going to stop. Do you understand?"
"Are you threatening me, Potter? Because I really doubt you can do me any bodily harm. If you've forgotten, my friends Crabbe and Goyle are roughly of the size and strength of gorillas."
"I don't mean I'm going to harm you physically," Potter growled, and something flashed in his eyes. "I mean, I'll do something to harm your reputation, as it seems you're so intent on harming mine."
Draco couldn't resist. "Like what?"
Harry yanked him closer. Their noses were touching. Draco suddenly felt slightly panicked at their closeness. Goosebumps rose up on his flesh. His breath hitched.
"You do remember yesterday, don't you? Let's not make this a repeat performance, because I didn't like it anymore than you did," Harry hissed venomously.
Then he let go. Draco rocked back onto his feet, feeling dizzy and hot. His adrenalin was pumping through his blood like boiling water. He backed away, staring at Potter, who seemed to have gone crazy with rage. Even his little friends, Weasel and Mudblood, were gaping at him. The whole Great Hall seemed to have gone silent.
Draco quickly brushed himself off. Goyle and Crabbe had once again materialized behind him, as they had learned to do when there was trouble, but Draco lifted a hand to indicate that they shouldn't beat the snot out of Potter. Yet.
Draco lifted his head in a dignified way and said loudly, "Well, now, I see that we understand each other."
Then he turned briskly and walked back to his table, not daring to look back. He paused only to wipe his buttery hand off on the folds of Goyle's robe.