I rubbed my aching head and groaned softly. The sorting had barely begun, and already I was so bored I could up and die, although what would the girls at Hogwarts do if I did that? In addition to the boredom, I had a splitting headache.
Finally, FINALLY it was all over – I could safely leave without getting verbally whipped out by Severus. I stood up, before the last vestiges of the school song had stopped echoing, and nearly bolted out of the Great Hall. I headed off towards the Slytherin dungeons, away, AWAY! Away from the curious stares, away from the suspicious eyes and away from the covert glances. And although I was not quite free in the halls of the castle, it was a great relief to be free from that room.
I quickly left my room, after grabbing my things, and headed out to the prefects bathroom. Dinner didn't seem to be over yet, as the hallways were still deserted, yet I hurried; I didn't want to be mobbed once dinner finished. My strides were long and confidant, my outward appearance deceiving of my inner feelings.
I murmured the password and slipped in through the portrait's opening. I smiled, enjoying the luxury of the empty bathroom all to myself, savoring the moment. I spared a moment to thank whatever deities existed for the abandoned state of the bathroom, then kneeled down and begun my work. I turned on the normal water tap, setting it to a decently hot temperature, then turned away and slipped out of my robes.
I slid into the water and groaned at the feel of it on my skin. I paddled over, turning off the tap and sighed, relaxing on a large, underwater bench. I leaned back and closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of near-burning water on my aching muscles. I inhaled, breathing in the fresh steamy smell of the hot water, combined with the soapy smell of the bathroom and my own, sandalwood smell. I felt myself drifting off, in a state of supreme relaxation.
I sat up, blinking and yawning. Where was I? I looked around and realized I was still in the Prefect's bathroom. The water seemed stagnant and cold – apparently I'd fallen asleep in the water. It wasn't that rare for me, so I thought little of it, I simply pulled the plug and stepped out of the unpleasant water.
I yawned and rubbed my eyes and squinted, trying to tell what time it was, although the lack of clock hampered my ability to do so. The windows weren't much help either; all I could see outside was that it was totally dark, so it couldn't be too early in the morning. Finally, I reasoned it was probably midnight or so, though my guess could be horribly wrong. I never had been too talented at guessing time.
I scratched my crotch, then grabbed a towel to wrap around my waist. Perhaps I'd sit and read for awhile, then take a nap... Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted, and I stood still. I cocked my head, listening intently, trying to see if I'd imagined it or not. "Damn it." I finally swore inwardly, as I heard them now right outside the door. Curses. I must've been woken up by a noise they made as they approached, but now it was too late for me to escape easily.
Though I knew I could easily face down any of the prefects or students with the password, I just felt too tired. It had been a long night, I hadn't had much sleep earlier, and my head still ached slightly, although a lot less than it had earlier. However, I just didn't feel up to facing them at the time being. So I did the only thing left: I hid. I grabbed my clothing, hoping they wouldn't notice the evidence of my presence, and slipped into one of the bathroom stalls, hoping they wouldn't see.
It really was a tiny room, made for a quick pee, although, I had to admit, the normal bathrooms WERE much smaller. Nevertheless, this was no grandiose ballroom. However, the important thing was that it had a door. I quietly slid the lock, hearing the portrait creak open and loud whispers that grew louder. I blew a relieved breath – I'd made it. Another second and I'd have been toast.
I nearly cursed, inhaling sharply when I realized who I was trapped in here with. Oh, it wouldn't be any relief for me to be trapped in here – perhaps better had I been seen out there. I crouched on the toilet lid, unwilling to show my feet, and stared at my clothes that I'd quietly hung on a hook on the back of the door. I couldn't even change; any movement or noise might awaken them to my presence.
"Ugh." I whispered to myself, burying my face in my hands. I could make out the voice of the mudblood, Granger, perfectly – honestly, did she know what a whisper was? Although I couldn't hear all the words the other spoke, I knew it with that tiny identification – my nemesis, the other Gryffindor prefect, Weasley.
Now, for a long time I'd thought of Potter as my biggest rival: the Gryffindor golden boy, the Quidditch hero and the other most sought-out male in Hogwarts at the current time. However, I now realized that Weasley was by far the worst of the three Gryffindors. He seemed to go out of his way to pick fights with me – and this year I had done little to provoke him, though granted, only from father's orders that I couldn't get in any more trouble.
I was quickly interrupted from my thoughts by a heated moan, followed immediately by "Good Lord that's – oh Ron!" in Granger's shrill voice, followed quickly by a splash. I rested my chin on my knees and rocked slightly, covering my ears in the hopes that I could block out what I was sure was to be coming. However, it was no use.
It was as if, as their passion grew, so did the volume of their voices. "Ron, are you sure this is a good idea...?" I heard the mudblood ask uncertainly, a slight tremor in her voice. "Yesss..." I heard his passionate reply, followed by another splash and then mumbling in a lower tone, which prevented me from making out anything in particular.
I tapped my knee in frustration as the volume of their voices swelled again, and I could make out their noises clearly once more. "Oh Jesus, Ron!" The girl said quite loudly, causing me to wince, just waiting for a teacher to barge in. Unluckily, none did and so the two continued.
Fortunately, they'd managed to quell their voices and had stopped talking at this point, for which I was grateful. However, I could still hear the splash of water and the smack of skin on skin. I shook my head and shuddered, closing my eyes so tight it was painful. This would definitely go down in the books as one of the more traumatic experiences I had gone through.
The noise eventually began to die down, and once I felt a sufficient amount of time had past I slowly opened the door to the stall. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, as the bathroom seemed deserted. Now I could just take a quick shower, and then go downstairs to sleep...
I looked around the room, trying to evaluate how long I'd spent in there. Maybe it had been four hours, a little less? I tapped my chin, peering out the window but all I saw was the lightening of the sky about a half-hour before sunrise. Then it was probably about 5:00 or so, I estimated; although I knew I could also be way off on the time.
Suddenly I spotted the mermaid. She'd know the time, and much as I hated to deal with her... well, I really needed to know how much time that I had until breakfast. Of course, I had to go about this carefully – I couldn't say just anything to her. I walked over to her, once she noticed me she giggled and pretended to be involved in the hard task of playing with her blonde hair. At a maximum angle to show off her cleavage, of course.
I closed my eyes and sighed inwardly, already feeling the headache. She was stupider than Pansy, and that was saying something, but then again she WAS a painting. She may have been an extremely lifelike painting, particularly in some areas, but she really could have been real for all the way she acted – mooning and preening as if I could affect her in any way. Well, I suppose she didn't always have someone as handsome as me talking to her.
But I did need to know how much time I had to work with, so I began to speak, hoping to get this over with. "O fair maiden of the seas, might thou know the time?" I asked delicately, using the flowery tongue I only ever used to address my mother. I found it also worked well on her, and though I detested it, I also knew it was the quickest route to my goal.
She flipped her hair at me and laughed again. "Of course Dray," She said, batting her eyelashes at me and flipping her tail. I nearly groaned; I hated that nickname! But again, it would be best to ignore it. Sure enough, she answered, "It's about 5:15. Did you get up this early just to talk to me?" She asked, sticking out her chest and batting her eyelashes at me. I remembered she had been asleep when I'd first came in, which seemed to have been my only blessing this last day.
"You know I would, grandest of the grand." I paused, trying to think of a reason that wasn't an excuse that she would be content with. Finally, I went on, "Oh fairest of all flowers, I live to speak with thou – it is only unfortunate that I may not, and that I must leave, against all wishes. I must go before I am reprimanded, forbidden to ever return to you." There, I thought, that sounded plausible. Surely she knew Prefects could come and go.
She pouted, sticking out her lower lip and giving me a baleful look. "Do not fret, my queen of the saltwater, for I shall return to thee in later time." I smiled at her, using all the charm that I had been graced with, thankful for my good looks and my winning smile. Not to mention the intelligence I'd been blessed with... getting out of her clutches, that was an impressive claim to fame. I winked at the well-endowed merwoman, before opening the portrait and hurrying out into the hallway. Would be better to leave before she could say more.
Only after I'd begun walking down the hallway did I realize that I was still wearing nothing but my towel, carrying my other clothes in a bundle. I looked back thoughtfully at the portrait before moving on. I didn't feel like dealing with the mermaid more – not to mention that my plan was to simply take a shower once I'd gotten back to the dungeon. Since I'd been trapped in the bathroom for a hideously long amount of time, my hair was messed up – not up to my usual standard at all. Not to mention that I'd gotten a bit messy in the other activity... I shook my head, slightly embarrassed at the thought, though some parts of my body were telling me otherwise, and made my way back to the dungeons.
I yawned for the hundredth time and struggled to keep my eyelids from drooping and falling shut, as they seemed wont to do every minute or so. After I'd finished my shower, I found I had no time left to go back to sleep. Instead, it had been time for breakfast, so I'd sleepily made my way down to the Great Hall to eat.
I had no problem staying awake in the morning. I had potions, which was naturally easy for me, not to mention who taught it. I could never be bored in Professor Snape's potion class – it was such a fascinating art, and complicated, not to mention one that I excelled at. After Potions we had care of magical creatures, also with the Gryffindors (sometimes I really do get annoyed with Dumbledore's "inter-house relationships" philosophy. Honestly, like that's ever going to work) and I didn't fall asleep in that either. Oh, it wasn't for lack of trying, that great half-giant oaf could put anybody to sleep, but the temptation of tormenting the 'noble' Gryffindor heroes overwhelmed any longing I may have had for sleep.
However, that had been in the morning.
After lunch, my belly was full and I was content. This was not a good combination with Binn's history lecture, which dulled me into a half-stupor. Not suprisingly, I wasn't the only one; the Hufflepuffs that we had class with weren't the best of note-takers. This was probably the reason, I conceded to myself later on, for what happened in charms class.
We were working on cheering charms. Flitwick had given us a short lecture about why they would be useful later on – stronger spells were used to cure depression and anxiety or in times of war to ease the post-battle trauma. Some powerful wizards had, some records claimed, been strong enough to affect even ghosts. Naturally I'd tuned him out, seeing no reason to bother listening. I was bored enough already.
So there I stood, lazily swishing my wand with Blaise Zambini as my partner, practicing cheering charms on non-sentient objects that we'd been given to use. He jerked up, suddenly startled, and looked at me. A hush fell over the classroom, and I heard a "Draco..." But before I could react, I felt a spell hit me. Now I didn't burst out in feathers or feel pain shooting through me, so I decided it was harmless enough and turned back to Blaise. "Yes?" I asked amusedly, "What?"
"Ah..." He began. "I was ... just going to tell you that Longbottom was going to hit you... but it's too late." He shrugged, and turned back to the potted plant that was wilted, and we were supposed to cheer. "That was very kind of you, Blaise." I said, patting his back warmly. He gave me an odd look, but I ignored it. After all, I needed to make sure Neville hadn't been worried that he'd hurt me!
I sauntered over to where Longbottom, Potter, Weasley and Granger were all working as a group. "Hey." I said to Neville, whose face was as white as a paper. "Look." I said, "Nice try. But I think you're not doing the swish right, or you would have hit the target." I motioned my wand, then grinned at him. "See, now try? That's right, isn't that better?" I didn't question why Weasley was staring at me with horror, or Granger with a wide-eyed fascination.
I patted Neville's back. "No problem." I said, to what I was sure was an unspoken thank you. Potter, his partner, was staring at me like I'd grown an extra head. "What?" I asked, slightly perturbed, "Just felt like helping him out, that's all. I'm in a good mood today." I went on. I smiled genuinely at him. "By the way," I added, raking him over with my eyes. "You look very nice today... Harry." I finished, before sashaying back over to where Goyle stared at me, oblivious to Crabbe poking his plant half to death.
"Gee, I didn't know Neville could cast that strong of a cheering charm." Muttered Hermione thoughtfully, as she peered after Draco. "Gee, I didn't know Malfoy fancied me." Muttered Harry, rubbing his shoulder where the Slytherin had patted him.
"...Look, Dray..." Blaise went on, but I slammed my fist down on the table hard. "Do NOT call me that!" I snarled, interrupting him yet again. I think that by now he was getting used to it. "Anyway," He said, still calm, "All I'm trying to say is, I don't think you should get all that worked up about it. After all, it's not as though nobody knew you preferred males..." I rolled my eyes, still seething. "Blaise." I growled, through clenched teeth, "Do you REALLY think it's all right?" I hissed, voice dark with anger, eyes flashing.
"Well," Blaise said, unimpressed (he was, after six years, starting to get used to me and my temper tantrums) and calm, "You should know that gaiety is commonly accepted in polite wizarding society. Now obviously the purebloods marry for heirs, but it's not uncommon for them to have... side interests. That's often added into the marriage contract as a clause." He gave me a look. "I should think you'd have know that."
I felt my nails digging into my palms as my fists clenched, but I restrained myself from punching him. "You moron! Imbecile!" I sneered, "Of course I know that! I knew that before you knew what a pureblood WAS." I stood and began to pace, needing something to do with all my excess energy. "No, my problem is a much deeper one... I didn't want Potter to know that about me. He had no idea, up until Longbottom's idiotic spell... you should have stopped me!" I snapped accusingly. Almost the whole class had heard what I'd done! Thankfully, however, they didn't know the details of what I'd said, but I was sure it would be only a matter of time before that, too, spread.
Blaise looked thoughtful, tapping his chin with one long, elegant finger. "Well?" I asked impatiently, but he waved me off. "Hush Draco, I'm trying to think. Now, let me see..." He muttered, staring off into space. Finally he said, "Well, why does Potter have to know?" "What?" I demanded, looking down at him scathingly. "What kind of a plan is that? Shall I just waltz over and memory charm Potter? That's not going to work – even saw what I did, his friends will just tell him what I said again anyway. And I can't just pretend I didn't say it – you know what I said, I practically drooled on him. He may look all right, but still!" I fumed.
"Calm yourself. That wasn't what I meant at all," Blaise soothed, patting my arm, which I jerked away and continued pacing. "No, I meant do something along the lines of proving that you're not gay – at least to Potter. Make him think it was just the charm making you act like that, and that you were just being nice." I frowned as I thought about this. "True...." I admitted grudgingly. "True... but how?" I asked, intrigued. "Easy." Blaise smiled, knowing he had me hooked. "Here's how it works..."
"So you're saying," I said finally, "that all I have to do is go out with a girl and make sure Potter notices?" "Mhmm." Blaise affirmed smugly. Clever, crafty boy – doing proper justice to a Slytherin. "I'll let you think on that." He finished, then departed from our dorm room before anything more could happen.
I lay back on my bunk, lost deep in thought, with a smile playing across my face. Yes, that was a good plan – the perfect plan, one that couldn't fail. All I had to do was make sure Potter noticed me dating a girl, flaunt it, and that would be that. Now all I had to do was decide on a girl that might get his attention. I now had to pick the perfect girl...