Hello 'dere!
Some notes about this chapter:
-My writing, especially in this chapter and between 7 and this, is so, so blotchy.
I'm very sorry. There's not all that much I can do, my writing style is changing
constantly, even if I only have a break of about a day or two in between paragraphs.
This chapter is especially dark. Well, not dark, but... uh... something like
it. A close cousin. Lol.
-There is one spot where Pansy refers to her previous self, Snape, with male
pronouns. This was intentional. It makes it so much easier to write and comprehend,
and, really, she is refering to Snape, so it is logical, too.
-Maybe Snape is in character? Maybe he's not. Gah, I dunno, I'll find a good
balance at some point. If you think about it, being someone else AND anonymous
would change someone... you know... no, that is NOT a lame excuse, dangit....
-Once again, I remind you that anyone referred to as Draco is Draco-in-Harry.
See the note in chapter 7.
-Different people are referring to different people as Zabini. You'll just have
to take it in context. For now, Draco refers to Blaise-in-Ron as Zabini. (Isn't
Zabini an awesome name? Zaaa-biiii-niiii....)
-Nooooo, I'm not trying to make a love triangle, mon. This story is literally
writing itself. (Well, no, not literally. That would be pretty freaky, heh.)
-The little scene with Blaise and Draco in this chapter is. So. Cheesy.
-Oh, and I'm leaving this chapter off evilly. Muahahaha. The more reviews I
get, the quicker I'll get writing. ;)
-Please don't kill me for being so slow! I just finished performing in a musical,
mon. And there's only more where that came from.
The characters we know of are (body - person IN body):
Blaise Zabini - Harry Potter
Crabbe - Padma Patil
Goyle - Dumbledore
Neville - McGonagall
Ron Weasley - Blaise Zabini
Draco - Lavender
Padma - Ron
Harry - Draco
Pansy - Snape
Thank you to my wonderful reviewers!....
ataraxis (yepper ;) thanks for the review), pixyfairy120, Kaaera (looking forward to it too, it'll be less awkward to write ^^), LeeLeePotter (I'll get there soon!), n snape, Moni, Ronda-Silverpaw (that part is BZ/BM, for clarification - not BZ/HP), Ruth, Kouryou Sanomi (hehe thanks :) ), Lady Doncaster (wheee I won the "Priceless" award... thanks for the review! ^^), BURN THE R.U.M (yes he can! He and Ron are especially thick in book 4 though... lmao), Maxwell Demon (I'm trying to make the romance unfold at a somewhat regular rate, which is especially hard for a inexperienced 13-year-old to do, lol. ;) Ack, gramatical errors? Where? :S Thanks for the review, in any case :D ), Fuzzy-Bumpkins, Kursed SeeD, eth, Necromant (thanks!), Lady Darkness13 (;) not yet!), JadeDawn (thanks!), mistik-elf13 (yes he is! He's our comic relief for now, lol, it'll get more serious when I finally get Voldie in like I wanted to in chapter 6... cough...).
Ah yes, this is slash, male/male romance... just to enlighten the unenlightened. Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm not JK Rowling. I'm just a girl who lives in the United States who happens to enjoy terrorizing JKR's creations.
.~*~.
Chapter Eight (woot!)
Pansy sighed silently, cursing hormones and all they were worth. If it wasn't
for Miss Parkinson's damn hormones she wouldn't be in this damn
predicament, trying not to act on a crush on a teenager.
She blanched, the truth ringing in her mind again. This was horrible. So bad.
People who are forty years old do not go and become attracted to teenagers.
It wasn't right. It was unnatural.
She'd been openly admitting it to herself. She had something of a "crush"
on Mr. Zabini. Damnit. She didn't fall for people. She was stronger than
that. Acting on any attraction to this teenager would be molesting, nothing
more, nothing less.
But you'd be anonymous too, said a toneless voice in the back
of her mind. No, she tried, no, I would still be taking advantage
of someone. She gulped. And being taken advantage of. Once Dumbledore
fixes this, I'll never meet this person knowingly again.
As Snape, she'd never been one to take to "flings" or short-term
relationships. Everything meant so much more in the short life that he had ahead
of him. It was too short to waste. And, growing up, he'd learned that
Death Eaters shouldn't love. Even though his parents never did. But for
some twisted reason he'd loved and respected his father. And then he was
gone. Subject to Voldemort's annoyance. There were plenty more Death Eaters,
after all.
Hadn't Lily left Snape the day she found out he was a Death Eater?
Pansy glared at the printed words she'd long ago stopped reading. Every
paragraph blurred together at the sting of tears she felt. Oh, another joy
of being female, she thought briefly, before they took control of her.
The first thing Harry saw when he opened his eyes was Pansy, head in her arms,
back shaking. He heard no gasps for air, but knew she was crying.
His mind and body were being ripped in two. His mind told him to get the hell
out of there, that Pansy wouldn't appreciate it if he noticed her crying.
But his body wanted to help her, maybe find out why she was crying and make
it better.
This was disgusting him. Slytherin. The word rang in his head, like a
horrible bug that he'd just discovered squashed into his pillow. Pansy
had said she was a Slytherin. All Slytherins were bad.
"What's wrong?" he ventured, squeezing his eyes shut for a
second or two, then daring to open them.
"Get the hell away from me," she told him, the words buried underneath
her arms. "Get the hell away from me."
"I didn't do anything!" Harry exclaimed, anger welling up
in his chest from nowhere.
"You didn't have to!"
"Uhh...?"
A second year hummed as he opened his door to go to dinner, saw the scene
over the edge of the banister, and silently returned to his room. Neither Slytherin
noticed him.
There wasn't really silence. A clock ticked away somewhere, and outside
somewhere, it had begun to rain, droplets battering softly against the castle,
the sound a distant rumble in the cool of the dungeons. But Harry heard none
of this. He waited for a response, any response.
"Why?"
"Huh?" Harry was beginning to feel stupid. His last two replies
had been nothing but confused one-syllable words.
"Why do you care?"
The anger was draining, being replaced with tiredness. Pansy sat up jerkily,
scrubbed at her eyes, then looked at him coolly. He realized he was supposed
to answer.
"I don't know. Because I do."
"That's not the reason, though, is it Zabini?"
She felt guilty, using her Death Eater training on an innocent. She had no
idea if he was lying or not, but she could sure act like she knew something
he didn't want her to.
"Er."
It was amazing how quickly Miss Parkinson's body could go from self-pity
to trying to get what she wanted. She noted this.
"Hmm?"
She leaned across the table, eyes like slits, feeling as though she wasn't
really controlling herself. She and Zabini were mere centimeters apart now,
as the other Slytherin had simply frozen. Pansy reached up and ran a hand down
the side of his face, wondering what the hell had happened to self-control.
The action had not been entirely sinister, but had been done with something
of a mocking sneer on her face.
"I'msorryI'lljustgonow," Harry choked out, before scrambling
to his feet and disappearing into the corridor outside. Pansy lurched backwards
into her sofa, feeling ill.
What just happened?
"What the hell was that?"
The Slytherin common room had a main level, where all the fireplaces and sofas
and winged armchairs were located. Over a small portion of the room was a balcony,
connected to the room by stone stairs. This balcony was the level on which the
dormitories, all fourteen of them, were. The rest of the common room was two
levels high.
Crabbe stood on the balcony, gripping the railing. Her knuckles had long ago
turned white. Pansy slapped herself inwardly, wishing she'd noticed when
they'd had a visitor.
"What do you want?" she asked monotonously.
Crabbe ignored her comment. "You're trying to seduce him, aren't
you? You little b–"
Pansy didn't hear the rest. Seduce. Seduce. I wasn't trying to
fucking seduce him.
Then what were you doing?
"If I was, how would you be concerned?" She put on a sneer, although
she didn't feel it. "What did I tell you? Ickle Padma has a crush
on Blaise Zabini...."
Crabbe tried to keep his face emotionless, but Pansy could tell by how much
he was blinking that she had competition.
No. Padma can have him. I am not falling for... oh, blast it all.
Her sneer widened, despite how she really wanted to glare daggers at him instead.
Crabbe made an uncharacteristic squeak of frustration, and left the room, stomping.
Ron had been lying there for about two minutes and neither boy had done anything.
Well, Ron had been picking at his shirt hem, and Draco had been studying his
nails. Ron hadn't ventured far beyond opening his eyes yet, and Draco
hadn't yet responded. Out loud, at least.
Yes, he has good taste. Not the ugliest thing in the world at least, although
being kissed by Ron's body isn't an experience I'd like to
repeat unknowingly in the near future. Wonder what'll happen when we go
back to being Slytherins. Hmm... wonder how much longer I should keep him in
suspense.
"Malfoy...?"
"Hmm?"
"Could you get your shoe off my hair?"
He jumped, a new habit Potter had given him. Moved his foot before starting
to apologize, then realized how sappy that would seem.
"Thanks."
There was more silence while Ron stood and brushed himself off.
"So... Zabini."
Ron looked up, biting his lip. Draco was really enjoying keeping him in suspense.
They'd never really been great friends, but Malfoys didn't make
friends, so it was all fine in his book.
He paused another moment to decide which route he should take. Embarrassing
him could be fun, but if he went along with it he might find out more about
the Slytherin, which could ultimately prove handy, especially if he was a traitor's
son. If Draco ever did go back to Voldemort. It was pretty hard to forgive someone
who wouldn't care if you were dead or alive. And his own father, who definitely
had a part in all of this.
Wearing a smirk, he stepped forward, so that the redhead was trapped between
a bookcase and himself. One of his arms snaked around the other boy's
waist. Ron thought he was going to kiss him, as his tongue wetted his lips in
anticipation. "No." He placed a hand over his mouth, leaning forward,
so that their noses were nearly touching. "You realize that you have know
idea who I really am or can be?"
It had sounded a lot less cheesy in his head, but Ron bought it. He closed
his eyes again, trying not to squirm. Draco's smirk widened. He took his
hand away from the other boy's mouth, slinging it around the other side
of his waist, bringing them closer.
"Who can you be?"
Draco closed the tiny gap that had remained and then they were kissing again.
This only lasted for a minute before Draco pulled back enough to speak, not
needing to gasp for air like Ron did. "Put your arms around my neck, bastard."
Ron did this hurriedly, but Draco didn't kiss him again. He stepped back,
causing Ron to stumble and him to sneer.
"You'll get a second chance sometime soon," he told him, before
exiting the library. The promise left Ron shivering in anticipation.
Harry slid down the stone wall right outside the common room, legs shaking
and breath hitched. How could Pansy... the train of thought broke off as another
one came forth. Had she been mocking him, or did she, somewhere deep inside,
harbor feelings for him?
This is stupid, Harry thought, glancing at the stretch of wall that opened
into the Slytherin common room and frowning. He let himself smirk a little,
wondering if Pansy would be flustered at all if he went back in there and kissed
her. She might or might not, she seemed like a right ditz sometimes, and at
other times....
Yes, it was appealing, but the butterflies trying to get out of his stomach
were telling him it was too blunt. He was known for being blunt as his prior
self. For everything but girls, sure.
And then there was that constant nagging about who she really was. He wanted
no part in kissing Flitwick or someone equally disturbing.
Dinner was over. Students were returning from the hall now. The clock hadn't
struck six yet, but he knew it would soon. He waited for a crowd of Slytherins,
and snuck inside with them. Pansy was still at her table, but he doubted she
noticed him, as her eyes were cast off into space as she rested her head. He
slipped behind the sofa and up to the common room to take a shower and prepare
for bed.
Tomorrow would have classes. A distraction. No more of this nonsense, he told
himself. No more of this damn obsession.
He pulled his shirt over his head, and paused, for reassurance, to look in
the mirror at his left arm. The pale skin glowed, no dark mark disturbing it.
After his shower, he pulled his four-poster closed, shutting out the world,
at least for the night.
Cold.
Shit, where am I?
A mansion overlooked a dreary cemetery, and he frowned. This wasn't–this
couldn't be–
Red eyes opened, slits, in the blackness in front of him. Followed by other
pairs of eyes–smaller, different colors. But the red ones were the ones
that made him want to scream.
"How is Dumbledore protecting you now, Potter?"
Jeers met the cold words which he knew were coming from the red eyes. Then there
was again silence. "Speak, boy!"
He backed away, into other Death Eaters in the circle. They pushed him back
into the middle, with Voldemort, laughing.
"Reminisce."
He hadn't heard the incantation before. But memories that weren't
his own were being yanked out of him, clawing at his memory and leaving it in
tatters. They all spiraled into the wand that he knew Voldemort was holding,
even though it wasn't visible to his eyes.
He didn't try to stop them. He was too stunned to care. What was going
on? What was his master doing to him?
Draco Malfoy woke up in a cold sweat.
.~*~.
Review? *Tilts head*
