Disclaimer: Do I look like JKR? Well, you're reading this through a
computer, for all you know, I might. I don't think I do, though. I could,
though, you never know. But it's not mine, anyway.
A/N: Oopsies.I forgot to mention something! In this story, we're going to assume that sugar quills are the magical equivalent of green M&M's, k? Because everyone says that it's not true about them being aphrodisiacs, but of course everyone knows it's true, HAHAHAHAHAHA! Okay, sorry. Also, I have another reason I'm in trouble. I thought I had fixed it, but only signed in reviewers can review! Uh, oops. I fixed it now, though, so hopefully I'll get a few more reviews? I COMMAND YOU ALL TO REVIEW, HAHAHAHAHA! No I don't, lol, I'd just like it if you would. Sorry, I'm feeling weird.
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With our distracting train ride conversation, we didn't notice that it was raining. Hard. Like, really hard.
Now, I didn't feel like getting wet. I like the rain and all. I do. But I wasn't in the mood to get wet. I'd spent over a month in the company of no one but Gryffindors (which put a slight damper on my mood already) and I just didn't feel like getting wet. It's one of those things.
So, naturally, I threw myself at the first available carriage. I closed the door behind me and sat down, but it was only then that I realized I wasn't alone.
Pansy.
Pansy tackled me in one of her strange Pansy-hugs, then sat down next to me. Okay, not next to me, pretty much on top of me, but the mere thought of the experience makes me shudder. "Oh, Draco," she said, her voice strangely resembling the sound of Christopher Lee's oddly pointy fingernails in that Lord of the Rings movie being dragged slowly and painfully across a blackboard, "it's been so long since we've had the chance to talk."
"Yes, I know. Heartbreaking, really."
Pansy smiled, obviously mistaking my sarcasm for a heartfelt remark. I cringe at the thought. "So, how was your summer? What did you do?"
I tried to think of something to say. It was true; I hadn't really done anything over the summer. Except sit there all day, watching movies. Oh yeah, and spilling all the secret Death Eater junk. But I wasn't going to tell her that.
I had to think of something witty, and quickly. I shrugged. "Nothing really." Oh, THAT was brilliant, Malfoy.
Pansy jumped at the chance to tell me all about HER summer vacation in Paris in complete detail. I wasn't really listening, just staring longingly out the window. I needed coffee, and I could only get it once we arrived at the castle.
Several eons later, the carriage stopped in front of the steps. Not really caring that Pansy was still talking, I practically flew into my only safe haven from the raining, decaffeinated world: Hogwarts.
You see, Snape had a coffee thing, much like my own. And Dumbledore likes people to be happy. So, naturally, there's always lots of coffee, thank God.
I dodged Peeves in the Entrance Hall (who seemed to think it would be funny to push over the axe/sword-wielding suits of armor onto students' heads as they walked by.actually, you know, it was pretty funny) and joined the masses filing into the Great Hall that all sat down, anxiously awaiting the Sorting.
That's actually a lie. Everyone was just hungry; no one cared about the Sorting. The professors just thought we did. And they were supposed to be teaching us.
After we were blessed (haha, yeah right) with six new Slytherins, Dumbledore droned on for several more eons about woolen socks or God knows what.
I made that up. But it was probably something equally stupid.
Anyway, after that, the tables were magically filled with food. I could actually hear Weasley drooling as I poured my first cup of coffee. I swear I could.
The rest of the meal passed in silence. It was silent for me, at least; the rest of the morons at that school wouldn't be silent if Voldie's newest scheme was to remove their vocal chords and harness the Giant Squid with them to dominate Hogwarts.
Okay, that was stupid. I don't really know what the point of that would be. But it would be kind of cool.
Of course, it wasn't *entirely* silent for me. Oh no, no matter how hard I try, it never seems to work out the way I want it to. Pansy was sitting next to me as usual, and also as usual, she just wouldn't stop talking. I only spoke to her voluntarily, however, to tell her to shut up as she was describing (in great detail, mind you) what she had for breakfast on the third morning of her trip to Paris. But that's just the way it is.
So anyway, yet another eon later, the meal was finally over. I took my time leaving the Great Hall, as most people practically charged the frikkin door to get the good chairs by the fire in their common rooms. Or some other evening activity that I won't mention because it would be improper. You know, whatever it was they all did.
When I finally reached the common room, after giving the password, of course (if you're wondering what it was.oh well, sucks to be you), I immediately ascended the staircase to my dorm, not wanting to have to make up any more boring lies about my summer.
I opened the sixth year boys' dorm, only to find Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle engaged in an unmentionable activity.no not really, they were playing strip poker, pervert. Having several times as many brain cells as both of the other two put together, Blaise was completely clothed. Crabbe and Goyle, however, were already down to their underwear (the trauma, THE TRAUMA).now, only those two could lose that badly that quickly.
I rolled my eyes, thoroughly used to this type of thing, and just fell onto my bed, not feeling like changing my clothes. Enough clothing had already been shed in that room.
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You know, there must be some law that everyone except me knows about against waking me up calmly/gently/normally/soberly. Like, an actual national law. International, even.
Anyway, Goyle stood there for at least five minutes, poking me, trying to get me up. Moron. He should have known that I was already awake, just ignoring him. Blaise, however, being the brilliant guy that he is, jumped up onto my bed and kicked me in the head. And he was already wearing his shoes, too.
I had to give him some points on his creativity, though. It actually wasn't that creative, kicking me in the head, but it hadn't happened in a while. I wasn't really used to it.
Forty-five minutes later, I entered the Great Hall, my hair still wet. My hair is sexy when it's wet. It so does. And by the way, I'm not narcissistic. I just enjoy mirror-gazing.
Is that so wrong?
But that's not the point.
Breakfast went along as normally as could be expected (though with the people I know, that's not exactly incredibly normal, but whatever). The only thing different was our schedules. Since we were in sixth year, we had all been split up and mixed in with all the other houses.
Naturally, I was in only the most advanced classes. I was taking Potions, Defense against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration, Arithmacy, and Charms.
I, of course, had gotten 'O's and a few 'E's on all these subjects on the O.W.L.s. Sometimes my brilliance astounds me.
Really.
Having not so good short term memory, I had to glance down at my schedule again to see where I was going as everyone shuffled out of the Great Hall to their first classes. Or to find empty broom closets. Whatever.
I had Snape. That would be fun.
See, here's the thing. Most of the Slytherins in my year are morons. They are *complete* morons. So not many of them got decent enough grades to make it into Snape's O.W.L. level class. Okay, let me rephrase that: *none* of them got decent enough grades.
Except me, of course. Haha.
But anyway, the other ones in the class would be from other Houses. Normally, the prospect of this would have depressed me, but it was different. I was very interested to see how many of them would last with Snape. I figured they wouldn't last past winter break.
Snape doesn't have so much patience with those he doesn't like. Or those he doesn't have to pretend to like. Whatever.
So I headed off to class, looking forward to watching others suffer. It has always been a neverending source of amusement for me.
I was the last one, other than Snape, who hadn't arrived yet, to enter the classroom. This being the smart people class, it looked oddly empty. The other students currently present were Granger (I doubted there had been a change of mind for her about Jack's homosexuality, so this wasn't too promising, but she could still be interesting, we'll see), Finch-Fletchley, Abbott (that girl was dumb as a hick, I swear I don't know how she became a Prefect, let alone get in that class, but we'll see how long she lasts, haha), Macmillan, and Goldstein.
I reminded myself that if Snape ever slacked off in his duties, I could usually count on the last two for entertainment. Goldstein was a weird kind of guy, and he was always trying to kill Macmillan. I have no idea why, but it was funny.
Snape strode in, shutting the door behind him, and didn't look at us until he was standing behing his desk. He lifted his head up to the class and sneered at us all. "Well, I see have quite a few more to deal with than usual. For now." I looked around; there weren't all that many of us. He smirked. "Don't worry, that won't last long."
I had to smirk at that. I looked around again; Granger seemed to be the only one who understood what he had said. I was beginning to think she was the only other one with an independent mind. Oh well, more fun for me.
Just to freak everyone out, Snape had us make a sex change potion (don't ask), which was unsurprisingly difficult.
We were paired off by Sev. I had to work with Finch-Fletchley, which wasn't as bad as it could have been. Or rather, it wasn't as bad as the others had it.
Goldstein was working with Macmillan, and seemed to be testing out some new murder tactics. He seemed to be having fun, though I can't exactly say the same for Macmillan.
Granger was partners with the only remaining specimen, Abbott. She did all the work and sat there, trying to look interested as Abbott went on about something or another. I could tell she wanted nothing better than to shove Abbott's head in the potion and was just trying to shake off the urge. It wasn't that hard to see.
Finch-Fletchley and I conquered the art of the sex change.does that sound right? But anyway, we made our potion perfectly, but both wisely chose not to test it.
It's not like you would have. Unless you're.that way.
Like Jack.
Sometime later that day after lunch (Potions was a double period), I was pondering the best way to get Potter to take my potion on my way to Defense Against the Dark Arts. I was curious, however, to see who they'd gotten to take the position as professor, not having paid sufficient attention to find out at dinner the previous evening.
Upon entering the classroom, I discovered the turnout for the O.W.L. level in this particular subject was significantly better than Potions had been. All the sixth year Gryffindors except Patil and Brown were there, as were Pansy and Blaise.
I assumed that they had split up the houses; why they always chose to put us with the Gryffindors, however, I have no idea. I did notice that the new professor seemed to have been right behind me, as he walked in right after me. I took a seat at the back of the class; Pansy looked about to cry, as she was at the front.
The professor stood at the front of the class and stared at us for a minute, a dark eyebrow raised. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and had dark eyes and light brown hair. Everyone else stared back at him.
Finally, after a strange silence, he spoke. He had a very slight accent that I couldn't exactly place. "Uh, hey. I'm Professor Zaitzev, and as I've heard, you guys have had a bit of trouble with Defense Against the Dark Arts professors. This is my first teaching job, so you annoy me, I'll kill you and make it look like an accident."
I smirked; finally, a DADA professor that knew what he was talking about. I looked around. The guys looked disturbed; Granger and Pansy were also looking rather disturbed, though I think they were into him. I could tell.
Zaitzev didn't realize that he had shocked the class. He continued. "Okay, as you know, this is a very important year for you, being your first O.W.L. level year, so I have really no idea why I was hired. But I'm getting paid, so whatever." He was cool. "So where are you in the book?"
No one replied. Zaitzev stepped out from behind the desk. "God, are you guys mentally disturbed or something?" He looked at me. "You. Where are you, then?"
Ah, I was always so popular with the professors. No, really, I was. "In a chair." Sarcasm, even in its lowest form, was still fun.
He smirked. "That's what I'm talking about. What's your name?"
"Draco Malfoy."
Zaitzev went back behind his desk. "Okay, Malfoy. Shut the hell up. Now tell me, what are you learning about?"
I had to grin; I was having fun. It was just one of those random things. Everyone else in the class, however, seemed to want to just haul off and smack me. Except Pansy, of course. "Well, um.last year our professor was a head case that's currently situated in a mental institution, and she wouldn't let us do anything. So we're not really anywhere as of now."
Zaitzev put his hand over his eyes. "This is going to be a long year."
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A/N: Well, we needed a new DADA dude, didn't we? So I figured I'd use a cooler one. I'm sick of ones that turn out to be psycho/evil/half- human/more evil/whatever. This one's just interesting.
Now on to my reviewers:
RikuNghts: Lol, thanks. My friends and I have a neverending joke about green M&M's, so I wanted to find a way to incorporate it here.hence the sugar quills. And yes, I am updating my story, so keep your muse away from my head.
Ehlonna: Thank you! I'm glad you like it. Yes, Jack IS incredibly gay, but NO ONE will believe me. I'm glad there's someone out there that agrees. And the coffee thing.uh huh, moi.
AND.
Meggles: Hey, you want some coffee? You want some of Draco's coffee? Ooh, you want some of my caramel macchiato? Too bad, you can't. Eh, see you.
Um.yeah. That's three, cool. PLEASE REVIEW! I fixed it so now you don't have to be logged in to review, so please do so!
A/N: Oopsies.I forgot to mention something! In this story, we're going to assume that sugar quills are the magical equivalent of green M&M's, k? Because everyone says that it's not true about them being aphrodisiacs, but of course everyone knows it's true, HAHAHAHAHAHA! Okay, sorry. Also, I have another reason I'm in trouble. I thought I had fixed it, but only signed in reviewers can review! Uh, oops. I fixed it now, though, so hopefully I'll get a few more reviews? I COMMAND YOU ALL TO REVIEW, HAHAHAHAHA! No I don't, lol, I'd just like it if you would. Sorry, I'm feeling weird.
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With our distracting train ride conversation, we didn't notice that it was raining. Hard. Like, really hard.
Now, I didn't feel like getting wet. I like the rain and all. I do. But I wasn't in the mood to get wet. I'd spent over a month in the company of no one but Gryffindors (which put a slight damper on my mood already) and I just didn't feel like getting wet. It's one of those things.
So, naturally, I threw myself at the first available carriage. I closed the door behind me and sat down, but it was only then that I realized I wasn't alone.
Pansy.
Pansy tackled me in one of her strange Pansy-hugs, then sat down next to me. Okay, not next to me, pretty much on top of me, but the mere thought of the experience makes me shudder. "Oh, Draco," she said, her voice strangely resembling the sound of Christopher Lee's oddly pointy fingernails in that Lord of the Rings movie being dragged slowly and painfully across a blackboard, "it's been so long since we've had the chance to talk."
"Yes, I know. Heartbreaking, really."
Pansy smiled, obviously mistaking my sarcasm for a heartfelt remark. I cringe at the thought. "So, how was your summer? What did you do?"
I tried to think of something to say. It was true; I hadn't really done anything over the summer. Except sit there all day, watching movies. Oh yeah, and spilling all the secret Death Eater junk. But I wasn't going to tell her that.
I had to think of something witty, and quickly. I shrugged. "Nothing really." Oh, THAT was brilliant, Malfoy.
Pansy jumped at the chance to tell me all about HER summer vacation in Paris in complete detail. I wasn't really listening, just staring longingly out the window. I needed coffee, and I could only get it once we arrived at the castle.
Several eons later, the carriage stopped in front of the steps. Not really caring that Pansy was still talking, I practically flew into my only safe haven from the raining, decaffeinated world: Hogwarts.
You see, Snape had a coffee thing, much like my own. And Dumbledore likes people to be happy. So, naturally, there's always lots of coffee, thank God.
I dodged Peeves in the Entrance Hall (who seemed to think it would be funny to push over the axe/sword-wielding suits of armor onto students' heads as they walked by.actually, you know, it was pretty funny) and joined the masses filing into the Great Hall that all sat down, anxiously awaiting the Sorting.
That's actually a lie. Everyone was just hungry; no one cared about the Sorting. The professors just thought we did. And they were supposed to be teaching us.
After we were blessed (haha, yeah right) with six new Slytherins, Dumbledore droned on for several more eons about woolen socks or God knows what.
I made that up. But it was probably something equally stupid.
Anyway, after that, the tables were magically filled with food. I could actually hear Weasley drooling as I poured my first cup of coffee. I swear I could.
The rest of the meal passed in silence. It was silent for me, at least; the rest of the morons at that school wouldn't be silent if Voldie's newest scheme was to remove their vocal chords and harness the Giant Squid with them to dominate Hogwarts.
Okay, that was stupid. I don't really know what the point of that would be. But it would be kind of cool.
Of course, it wasn't *entirely* silent for me. Oh no, no matter how hard I try, it never seems to work out the way I want it to. Pansy was sitting next to me as usual, and also as usual, she just wouldn't stop talking. I only spoke to her voluntarily, however, to tell her to shut up as she was describing (in great detail, mind you) what she had for breakfast on the third morning of her trip to Paris. But that's just the way it is.
So anyway, yet another eon later, the meal was finally over. I took my time leaving the Great Hall, as most people practically charged the frikkin door to get the good chairs by the fire in their common rooms. Or some other evening activity that I won't mention because it would be improper. You know, whatever it was they all did.
When I finally reached the common room, after giving the password, of course (if you're wondering what it was.oh well, sucks to be you), I immediately ascended the staircase to my dorm, not wanting to have to make up any more boring lies about my summer.
I opened the sixth year boys' dorm, only to find Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle engaged in an unmentionable activity.no not really, they were playing strip poker, pervert. Having several times as many brain cells as both of the other two put together, Blaise was completely clothed. Crabbe and Goyle, however, were already down to their underwear (the trauma, THE TRAUMA).now, only those two could lose that badly that quickly.
I rolled my eyes, thoroughly used to this type of thing, and just fell onto my bed, not feeling like changing my clothes. Enough clothing had already been shed in that room.
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You know, there must be some law that everyone except me knows about against waking me up calmly/gently/normally/soberly. Like, an actual national law. International, even.
Anyway, Goyle stood there for at least five minutes, poking me, trying to get me up. Moron. He should have known that I was already awake, just ignoring him. Blaise, however, being the brilliant guy that he is, jumped up onto my bed and kicked me in the head. And he was already wearing his shoes, too.
I had to give him some points on his creativity, though. It actually wasn't that creative, kicking me in the head, but it hadn't happened in a while. I wasn't really used to it.
Forty-five minutes later, I entered the Great Hall, my hair still wet. My hair is sexy when it's wet. It so does. And by the way, I'm not narcissistic. I just enjoy mirror-gazing.
Is that so wrong?
But that's not the point.
Breakfast went along as normally as could be expected (though with the people I know, that's not exactly incredibly normal, but whatever). The only thing different was our schedules. Since we were in sixth year, we had all been split up and mixed in with all the other houses.
Naturally, I was in only the most advanced classes. I was taking Potions, Defense against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration, Arithmacy, and Charms.
I, of course, had gotten 'O's and a few 'E's on all these subjects on the O.W.L.s. Sometimes my brilliance astounds me.
Really.
Having not so good short term memory, I had to glance down at my schedule again to see where I was going as everyone shuffled out of the Great Hall to their first classes. Or to find empty broom closets. Whatever.
I had Snape. That would be fun.
See, here's the thing. Most of the Slytherins in my year are morons. They are *complete* morons. So not many of them got decent enough grades to make it into Snape's O.W.L. level class. Okay, let me rephrase that: *none* of them got decent enough grades.
Except me, of course. Haha.
But anyway, the other ones in the class would be from other Houses. Normally, the prospect of this would have depressed me, but it was different. I was very interested to see how many of them would last with Snape. I figured they wouldn't last past winter break.
Snape doesn't have so much patience with those he doesn't like. Or those he doesn't have to pretend to like. Whatever.
So I headed off to class, looking forward to watching others suffer. It has always been a neverending source of amusement for me.
I was the last one, other than Snape, who hadn't arrived yet, to enter the classroom. This being the smart people class, it looked oddly empty. The other students currently present were Granger (I doubted there had been a change of mind for her about Jack's homosexuality, so this wasn't too promising, but she could still be interesting, we'll see), Finch-Fletchley, Abbott (that girl was dumb as a hick, I swear I don't know how she became a Prefect, let alone get in that class, but we'll see how long she lasts, haha), Macmillan, and Goldstein.
I reminded myself that if Snape ever slacked off in his duties, I could usually count on the last two for entertainment. Goldstein was a weird kind of guy, and he was always trying to kill Macmillan. I have no idea why, but it was funny.
Snape strode in, shutting the door behind him, and didn't look at us until he was standing behing his desk. He lifted his head up to the class and sneered at us all. "Well, I see have quite a few more to deal with than usual. For now." I looked around; there weren't all that many of us. He smirked. "Don't worry, that won't last long."
I had to smirk at that. I looked around again; Granger seemed to be the only one who understood what he had said. I was beginning to think she was the only other one with an independent mind. Oh well, more fun for me.
Just to freak everyone out, Snape had us make a sex change potion (don't ask), which was unsurprisingly difficult.
We were paired off by Sev. I had to work with Finch-Fletchley, which wasn't as bad as it could have been. Or rather, it wasn't as bad as the others had it.
Goldstein was working with Macmillan, and seemed to be testing out some new murder tactics. He seemed to be having fun, though I can't exactly say the same for Macmillan.
Granger was partners with the only remaining specimen, Abbott. She did all the work and sat there, trying to look interested as Abbott went on about something or another. I could tell she wanted nothing better than to shove Abbott's head in the potion and was just trying to shake off the urge. It wasn't that hard to see.
Finch-Fletchley and I conquered the art of the sex change.does that sound right? But anyway, we made our potion perfectly, but both wisely chose not to test it.
It's not like you would have. Unless you're.that way.
Like Jack.
Sometime later that day after lunch (Potions was a double period), I was pondering the best way to get Potter to take my potion on my way to Defense Against the Dark Arts. I was curious, however, to see who they'd gotten to take the position as professor, not having paid sufficient attention to find out at dinner the previous evening.
Upon entering the classroom, I discovered the turnout for the O.W.L. level in this particular subject was significantly better than Potions had been. All the sixth year Gryffindors except Patil and Brown were there, as were Pansy and Blaise.
I assumed that they had split up the houses; why they always chose to put us with the Gryffindors, however, I have no idea. I did notice that the new professor seemed to have been right behind me, as he walked in right after me. I took a seat at the back of the class; Pansy looked about to cry, as she was at the front.
The professor stood at the front of the class and stared at us for a minute, a dark eyebrow raised. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and had dark eyes and light brown hair. Everyone else stared back at him.
Finally, after a strange silence, he spoke. He had a very slight accent that I couldn't exactly place. "Uh, hey. I'm Professor Zaitzev, and as I've heard, you guys have had a bit of trouble with Defense Against the Dark Arts professors. This is my first teaching job, so you annoy me, I'll kill you and make it look like an accident."
I smirked; finally, a DADA professor that knew what he was talking about. I looked around. The guys looked disturbed; Granger and Pansy were also looking rather disturbed, though I think they were into him. I could tell.
Zaitzev didn't realize that he had shocked the class. He continued. "Okay, as you know, this is a very important year for you, being your first O.W.L. level year, so I have really no idea why I was hired. But I'm getting paid, so whatever." He was cool. "So where are you in the book?"
No one replied. Zaitzev stepped out from behind the desk. "God, are you guys mentally disturbed or something?" He looked at me. "You. Where are you, then?"
Ah, I was always so popular with the professors. No, really, I was. "In a chair." Sarcasm, even in its lowest form, was still fun.
He smirked. "That's what I'm talking about. What's your name?"
"Draco Malfoy."
Zaitzev went back behind his desk. "Okay, Malfoy. Shut the hell up. Now tell me, what are you learning about?"
I had to grin; I was having fun. It was just one of those random things. Everyone else in the class, however, seemed to want to just haul off and smack me. Except Pansy, of course. "Well, um.last year our professor was a head case that's currently situated in a mental institution, and she wouldn't let us do anything. So we're not really anywhere as of now."
Zaitzev put his hand over his eyes. "This is going to be a long year."
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A/N: Well, we needed a new DADA dude, didn't we? So I figured I'd use a cooler one. I'm sick of ones that turn out to be psycho/evil/half- human/more evil/whatever. This one's just interesting.
Now on to my reviewers:
RikuNghts: Lol, thanks. My friends and I have a neverending joke about green M&M's, so I wanted to find a way to incorporate it here.hence the sugar quills. And yes, I am updating my story, so keep your muse away from my head.
Ehlonna: Thank you! I'm glad you like it. Yes, Jack IS incredibly gay, but NO ONE will believe me. I'm glad there's someone out there that agrees. And the coffee thing.uh huh, moi.
AND.
Meggles: Hey, you want some coffee? You want some of Draco's coffee? Ooh, you want some of my caramel macchiato? Too bad, you can't. Eh, see you.
Um.yeah. That's three, cool. PLEASE REVIEW! I fixed it so now you don't have to be logged in to review, so please do so!