CHAPTER 2

She stared

Silence. They all knew it was the reason they were there, but to hear it from a teacher gave the statement such....finality.

Ron simultaneously stood and raised his hand.

"Wait, Professor, I don't think I'm...."

"Being at all considerate," McGonagall finished. "While I am speaking you will remain silent unless instructed otherwise."

Mouth still open, he sat down. Before McGonagall could begin again, Draco's hand raised politely. She sighed resignedly.

"Yes Mr. Malfoy?"

"Professor," he drawled, "I was under the impression that Professor Snape would be supervising today."

"And?" McGonagall watched him expectantly.

"Well..." Draco stammered, "what happened?"

"Why?" she mocked. "Do you not think me capable, Mr. Malfoy?"

McGonagall said this with a smile, but the flame in her eyes warned against friendliness. Draco moved his lips wordlessly in angry protest. Hermione realized that he probably wasn't used to being spoken to so boldly.

"N-No," he finally managed through gritted teeth.

"Hey McGonagall!" Ron shouted as if suddenly remembering something important. "Why am I..."

"Such a twat?" offered Harry. Lavender gasped at his language, yet McGonagall hardly flinched.

"Okay, what's the deal with people finishing all my sentences?" asked Ron. "And incorrectly, I might add." He paused. "No, I was wondering..."

"That will be quite enough from you, Mr. Weasley." Since arriving she had been posted stiffly near the doors, but now she began to pace between their tables.

"From now on there will be no conversation," Lavender gasped once more. "No sleeping," Ron lifted his head and gasped. "No games," Draco stopped twiddling his thumbs and gasped. "No studying," Hermione snapped a book closed and gasped. "And there will be absolutely no vandalism." Harry continued to carve shapes in the table before feeling McGonagall's eyes on him. He dropped the knife and gasped.

"Um, Professor?" Lavender raised a meek hand. "What can we do?"

McGonagall smiled wickedly.

"You will write for me one foot of parchment on why you are here and how you plan to avoid returning anytime soon."

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle. One foot? She would finish that in an hour at most. After a moment of consideration, she thought, shit, that would leave seven hours of no talking, sleeping, games, studying, or vandalism. Gasp!

"That's really fucking long!" protested Ron. And, with a stern cough from McGonagall, he added, "Sorry. That's really fucking long, Professor."

"Then perhaps you should get started, Mr. Weasley. If you happen to finish early," Hermione looked up, "sit in absolute silence staring at the ceiling." McGonagall headed for the door. "I have other business to attend to. There are quills and parchment for your use; get to work."

Five pairs of eyes watched her walk slowly away and exit out the back. Four pairs of eyes continued to stare as if expecting McGonagall to reappear at any moment. The slight tap of a wand could be heard on the knob.

"Do you think she's coming back?" asked Lavender.

"I dunno. That was probably a locking charm she just put on the door so we can't get out," Draco said. "I bet she's watching us right now, waiting for one of us to screw up." He glanced over at Ron, had fallen asleep.

"Look, maybe we ought to just write the paper and get it over with," Hermione suggested. "Then McGonagall might have something else for us to do."

"Hermione, think about what you're saying." Harry came and stood behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. She shivered at his touch. "We've got the place to ourselves; why not have a little fun? It could be like the old days."

"Please don't touch me," she refused to meet his gaze, remembering how those green eyes could so easily pierce her very soul.

Harry released her immediately. He continued strolling down the rows, apparently unfazed by his ex-girlfriend's cool response. Eventually he came to Lavender and chose to sit directly between her and Draco.

"Jesus, you guys are cute together," Harry said.

"Oh, no…we're not, uh, we're not together." Lavender blushed profusely. Draco stared menacingly.

"Really?" Harry feigned surprise. "Because you have that 'recently fucked' look about you." Lavender's mouth fell open. "Or is that from another fellow?"

"Get lost, Potter," said Draco when he saw Lavender. "You're obviously not wanted here."

Harry shrugged it off, but his gut burned with resentment upon hearing the contempt in Malfoy's voice. Their rivalry had cooled some in recent years, but the deeply rooted hatred would never fade.

Voldemort's embarrassing demise at the hands of a New York cab driver significantly subdued Draco's callous personality, but it also gave him something new to lord over Harry.

He was supposed to be the deliverer. Since arriving at Hogwarts, Harry had been conditioned for the unavoidable battle between good and evil. When the fight was won he had no special role to play; nothing remarkable left to offer. That, and the fact that he had absolutely no claim in the victory.

Sure, Harry could still be considered an above-average wizard, but there were plenty of those at schools across Europe. His life had no significance.

"Have you got shit for brains, Potter?" Draco waved a hand in front of his face. "I asked you a question."

"What is it?" asked Harry, refocusing on the present.

"I said, why don't you just kill yourself and save us all some grief?"

Harry smiled at the comment which Draco had made many times before.

"So Draco, how's your mum?" Harry asked as nonchalant as possible.

"How dare you, you slimy bastard…." Draco's face reddened and his fists clenched.

Just as Harry raised a hand to defend himself, a soft meow echoed in the hall outside. Both boys froze and watched as a gray tabby cat sauntered in.

"God dammit." Draco stormed to the opposite corner of the room. The tabby sat stiffly, its yellow eyes watching each student in turn.

Ron had awoken when Harry and Draco first started arguing, and now he stood and walked over to the cat.

"Awe, what a cute little pussy," he said, thumping it heavily on the back. "Are you a boy kitty or a girl kitty?" he said, lifting the tail.

McGonagall transfigured on the table, causing Ron to quickly remove his hands and step backwards.

"Holy shit Professor, I didn't know it was you!" Ron said with a smile.

All three boys snickered while the girls stared in disgust. McGonagall had used that same transfiguration to catch tardy first years. Harry thought perhaps the pot had done caused a bit of memory loss, but Ron's mischievous smirk gave him away.

"That is completely…Mr. Weasley….I never!" At that she stormed out with the same stiff posture, but a tinge of pink crept into her cheeks.

"Finally got to touch a real woman, eh weasel?" teased Draco from across the room. "Well, almost…"

Ron merely laughed, having learned the best way to silence Draco was to ignore him. And it was intended to be funny, after all, so why not laugh?

After five years with no success, Ron dropped the tough guy persona and instead followed the example of his twin brothers. Although his humor was often sarcastic or inapprioate, he never failed to draw a smile.

Draco quieted as expected and Ron returned to his seat.

When he'd stared at the blank parchment for a full ten seconds his mind began to wander. At first he dwelt on all the normal things – sex, drugs, sex, McGonagall. McGonagall? What the fuck?

Ron's head snapped up and he rubbed his eyes vigorously. Had he just been daydreaming about his elderly professor? No, he rationalized, it was the cat. He liked the cat.

Harry stared at his old friend in disbelief. The Ron he once knew would've never had the courage to pull such a risky stunt, unless by accident.

Of course, he couldn't expect Ron's personality to be frozen in time, just as no one could expect that of him. Harry understood how much he had changed and how awkward it had to be for Hermione and Ron. But perhaps the alterations weren't so bad – only time could tell.