HALLOWEEN MADNESS (Courtesy of Draco Malfoy)
CHAPTER 7: MALFOY'S PLANS
Malfoy looked on blankly for a couple of seconds or so, apparently never expecting to hear that question asked of him. "Haven't we gone through this at the meeting a while back?" he asked instead. "Speaking of the meeting--"
"Don't you dare try change the subject, Malfoy," Hermione told him warningly. "What are you doing here?"
Before he could answer, Potter, in a flash, was kneeling in front of him. "I see. You probably are asking me so you could use the same tactic. Potter, please, you could just tell me I'm wonderful. You don't have to kneel before--"
"This is my cloak." Potter raised those wan greens of his, rage making them look even more awful. "You stole my cloak!" He lunged in on him.
He vaguely heard Weasley cheering Potter on. Idiot.
"Potter!" he yelled as he struggled to get him off. "All this display of affection--"
"Shut it, you bloody pillock!" Potter shouted and pummeled a fist to his face.
Malfoy quickly evaded the blow. "Hey! Not on the face!"
"For goodness' sake, you two," Hermione shouted amidst their squabble. "Stop acting like children! Harry!" she screeched when Malfoy managed to throw Potter off him.
Malfoy stood up, breathing hard. "What the bloody hell are you thinking, attacking me like that?"
Potter approached him menacingly. However, Hermione slipped in between the two of them. "Stop it," she said firmly.
But Harry Potter wasn't finished yet. In one fluid motion, he slipped a fisted hand through Hermione's slim figure and hit Malfoy in the stomach.
Malfoy doubled over and groaned.
Hermione turned to her friend. "Harry! I told you to quit it."
"But he stole my cloak!" he exclaimed defensively.
"Yes, but he's Malfoy."
"...and a Slytherin, at that," Weasel added.
Recovered from Potter's strike, he said, "Is that supposed to imply something?"
"Everyone, shush! All this noise will bring the others down here to the Common Room--"
Just as Hermione finished saying this, the portal opened and several chatting Gryffindors, fresh from the DA meeting, stopped in mid-walk as they stared at Malfoy, dumbfounded at his presence in their domain.
"Well, hello," he greeted them nicely. "I like the colors of your Common Room--red and sickly yellow..."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"That's scarlet and gold," muttered Weasel beside him.
"What is he doing here?" the Irish one asked, then as if he's changed his mind, "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, you know," he said nonchalantly. "Again, spying for my Slytherin cohorts and the Dark Lord."
"We are never getting a decent answer from him," said Hermione, casting him a look of the same kind as her tone. "This sort of situation needs diplomacy."
"I could do 'diplomacy'," Weasley offered. "Take your pick from the Unforgivable Curses."
"Get a dictionary, please," he told him in reply. "That'd sure help improve your vocabulary."
"Malfoy, if you don't tell us what you're doing here, we are going to report you to the Headmaster," Hermione told him.
"Well, aren't you doing that just the same?"
There was a collective "yes" from the Gryffindors who were around him.
"Then what's the whole point? I'd rather keep you all in suspense."
Weasley came up with a strangled sound that seemed to emanate from the deepest confines of a stomach gone wild and made a move to attack him, only to be stopped by Hermione. "Diplomacy, remember?" she reminded him.
Through gritted teeth, he said, "Fine. Let's just go to Professor McGonagall and have her settle this."
If McGonagall didn't think of her reputation, she might've screamed in frustration, Draco noted as he watched avidly the said professor's nostrils flare in her annoyance.
"Mr. Malfoy."
"Oh, please, use Draco," he said and smirked at her.
That earned him a jab in the ribs from Hermione. He winced.
"I'm really sorry, Professor McGonagall," said Hermione.
"But what I don't understand is how Malfoy managed to get in without anyone of you noticing."
You see Professor, Potter has an invisibility cloak that they use to sneak around in the middle of the night. I stole it from them, Draco thought, relishing the feel of having to say it and see the esteemed professor's eyes bulge out.
Weasel must have realized what he was thinking because he said, eyes fixed on him, "He walked too far away from us. He must have overheard the password."
"Mr. Malfoy, Professor Snape must be informed about your behavior. I could not believe it! Sneaking into Gryffindor Tower! For whast, I ask?"
"I want to spy on them," he replied casually.
A pair of hands wrapped around his neck, and threatened to tighten. He slowly raised a wand to those pair of hands and said, "Let go or I'll hex your hands off you."
"This behavior---! It is deplorable! Weasely, Malfoy, you two are prefects. I would deem it necessary that you act accordingly."
A brilliant idea struck him that time. "You mean we take it out on the battle field of honor? What about it, Weasel Boy? Let's duel."
McGonagall threw him a sharp look. "Come with me, Mr. Malfoy. You will have a lengthy talk with the Headmaster."
Exactly what he was waiting for...
The silence that Dumbledore offered to him was discomforting.
"Lemon drop, Mr. Malfoy?" he offered.
Draco was not expecting anything like this. Instead of him goading Dumbledore to no end like he did the other old professor, it seemed like Dumbledore was putting one over him.
"No, thank you."
"Suit yourself," he said and promptly popped a candy into his mouth.
He stood up then, and began a slow, steady pace around the room.
"Professor Dumbledore, I really think that we should talk," he started.
"Oh?" he stopped walking, and raised a brow at him. "About what?"
Bonkers, this professor, sure was.
"Well, this isn't exactly a friendly visit," he told him pointedly. "Seeing as McGonagall even escorted me here."
"Ah, I see..."
See what?
Professor Dumbledore sat once more, leaned forward to the desk, and began tapping his fingers on it in a rhythmic motion.
"Get it out already!" he snapped in his impatience.
"Why don't you start, Mr. Malfoy? I know there is something you want to tell me."
Draco once thought that Dumbledore was completely barking. Now, he thought Dumbledore an escapee from Azkaban who miraculously survived but has, quite sadly, lost his mind but appeared to be normal to the inexperienced eye.
"I don't have any idea what you are talking about," he denied.
"Sure, you don't." He had that knowing gleam in his eyes. "Just as I have nothing to say about your plans of staying in Gryffindor Tower when your father finds out of your activities."
He paled.
"W-w-what?"
The professor's reply was one of his annoying complacent smiles.
"Dare I hint senility coming over you, Headmaster?" he asked, recollecting his momentum.
"You could try," he allowed. "But I doubt that changes anything at all."
With a resigned sigh, he said, "No, it probably won't. What do you want to know?"
"Exactly what you plan to do, Mr. Malfoy."
The happy chatting noise in the Gryffindor common room was suddenly put to a sudden halt when the portal opened and revealed a white faced Professor McGonagall.
"Students," she said in a loud voice. "Call the others in their dormitories and gather around."
A series of shuffling feet followed next as they rushed to do as they were bid.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked at each other. Somehow they knew that the announcement has something to do with Malfoy. And the very knowledge of it brought them a sense of foreboding.
Professor McGonagall looked around as if to assess if they were already complete, cleared her throat and, said in a loud voice, "Gryffindors, I would all like you to meet your new ..."--she cleared her throat as if the word was stuck and she couldn't get it out-- "...housemate."
The Gryffindors' caught each other's eyes in mixed curiosity and puzzlement.
"Please, come in," she continued in an unusually loud voice.
Harry held in his breath. Let it not be him... He closed his eyes.
Unknowingly, he voiced the thought out loud. Beside him, Ron said, voice low, eyes fixated on the door, "Somebody out there really hates you, mate. It is him."
Chaos reigned when Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy empire, Slytherin prince, future leader of Death Eaters entered the room with an annoying smirk on his face.
"Hello again, new Housemates."
Seamus' jaw dropped, Hermione saw from her peripheral vision.
"But Professor--" And so came all the protests from the indignant Gryffindors.
Professor McGonagall raised a hand to stall their noise. "It is to Professor Dumbledore's wishes that Mr. Malfoy stays here in your tower. I do not know of his reasons nor do I have the right to question his decision and so..."
"Where is he staying, then?" Ron asked, his protests still in his voice. "Our dormitories are full."
"We'll just have to make room for him, won't we?"
"Where?" Dean asked.
"Potter's sounds bloody fine," drawled Malfoy. "Does he have his own room?"
"No."
"What? The great Harry Potter?"
"Stall it," snapped Harry. "If you're staying here, then you'd have to at least be good to us. This is our territory after all."
"Be good?" he echoed. "Potter, you and I have been enemies for five years here in Hogwarts. I should think that you'd know by now that I am not good, in that context."
Professor McGonagall once again cleared her throat. "Children! Mr. Malfoy will stay in the boys' dormitory." And she left with no further word.
Malfoy looked on at the still gaping Gryffindors. "I'd like to settle in now, if you please," he told them.
With menacing looks on their faces, the Gryffindors started to move forward to him.
"Whatever happened to you, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Madame Pomfrey as she bustled about the Hospital Wing for Malfoy's remedy.
Malfoy caught Hermione's eyes, and she held her breath. "I had a little accident, Madame Pomfrey."
"A little?" she repeated. She stood in front of Malfoy and thrust a cup of liquid to his hand. "Here. Drink it and it will take care of the pain. But you will have to make do with the colors on your face until they mend."
"Couldn't you do anything for it?" Malfoy asked.
"Sorry, no. You could charm it so it'd not look obvious but I doubt the results would be better," she said with a chuckle and left. "You could go now, Mr. Malfoy," she called.
"What does she mean?" Malfoy asked Hermione with a perplexed expression.
Hermione giggled. "I've heard of a student here that has tried to do that."
"What's so amusing about it?"
"Her hair changed color from a very subtle brown to riotous orange. It went from straight to curly. No one saw the marks but they sure did notice her."
Malfoy frowned. "Well, what do you suggest I do?"
"I don't know." Hermione started walking away, out of the Hospital Wing.
He ran after her. "Oi! Hermione! Is that a way to treat your boyfriend?"
"What boyfriend? You're not my boyfriend."
"You brought me to the Infirmary against your better judgment. That sort of thing implies deep, unending love for someone."
"Right or it could just be guilt because I wasn't able to stop them for beating the crap out of you, which you justly deserve," she said without pause.
"That, too," he agreed. "So, how about the Ball?"
"What about it?"
He hastened his steps to block Hermione's way. "Have you thought about my offer?"
"Haven't I given you the answer already? Move, Malfoy. I need to get to the library."
"Everyone's entitled to change their minds. Why shouldn't you?"
"Malfoy, you just don't get it, do you? You're a Slytherin. I'm a Gryffindor. You asking me has already created enough uproar in this school. If I go out with you, everyone will think we've gone crazy." Her mantra. How she wished Malfoy would just listen to it.
"But it's alright if you go out with a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff, isn't it? Why not a Slytherin?"
"Because you're Slytherins," was her simple answer before she went passed him.
"What the bloody hell is wrong with being a Slytherin?" Draco asked out loud. He was in his Ancient Runes class.
Blaise Zabini, beside him, raised startled eyes to him. "What?"
"Hermione won't go out with me because I'm in Slytherin."
They didn't speak anymore until the class was over.
"So, Malfoy, have you ever heard of the word 'conspicuous'?" Zabini asked casually, as they queued out of the classroom.
"Yes. Why?"
"Well, you're doing your best to be just as so. How do you expect us to carry out our plans with you doing that? And what are you doing in Gryffindor Tower?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes at him. "That's a tactic, you know. Since it was the Headmaster who asked me to be put in Gryffindor, my father will suspect that Dumbledore suspects me of carrying his plans out in Hogwarts which isn't really what is happening."
That gave Zabini some pause. "What?"
A/N: Finally, I've posted another chapter. I'm really sorry. My brain cells have all died and gone to the place where brain cells are supposed to go after they die and haven't been replaced. I'm fast running out of ideas. This is all because of school work... Next chapter might come sooner...hopefully.
Next Chapter: Now that Dumbledore is in on Malfoy's plans, what will happen next? Will it involve another heart to heart with the tree? Or a special class that the DA members will have to attend? How about a new look to Gryffindor?