Title: What The Hell Is Contempt?
Rating: PG-13 right now, eventually R
Summary: The war is won, Voldemort is dead, and the Slytherins have been named heroes. But the Game of Houses must go on! But Draco Malfoy finds himself wondering at the unfairness that changes his ordered world and starts to turn him into another person, whether he wanted to love Harry Potter or not.
Chapter Summary: In which we meet the love of Pansy's life, and latecomers get reamed by the new D.A.D.A. teacher. …Or is he?
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Blaise/Neville, Hermione/Dean, Pansy/Justin, Ron/Theodore, Seamus/Crabbe
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I just wish I did.;) The title is the name of a Reggie and the Full Effect song, and I don't own that either.
Draco Malfoy snarled. What was once an ordinary, shabby looking hallway had been transformed into something so much worse. Something- ominous. Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hufflepuff Extraordinaire, had pushed Pansy against the stone and mashed their lips together. Again.
"Finch-Fletchley, if you feel the terrible need to indulge your exhibitionist tendencies and snog Pansy in front of the entire Hogwarts population, could you bloody well wait until I've left the area?" He asked cuttingly. The nerve! If Pansy didn't seem stupidly and totally in love with the git he wouldn't have hesitated in hexing him into next week. Everyone knows Slytherin girls don't belong with Hufflepuffs! He muttered to himself. But Pansy seemed to have forgotten the rules of the Game.
Lately, everyone had forgotten the rules of the Game. Once portrayed as a corrupt and, some even whispered, EVIL house, Slytherin House had fallen apart at the seams once Voldemort was defeated. And since the Slytherins that had remained at Hogwarts obviously weren't Death Eaters, they were now regarded as a sort of heroes. Bravely defying their cruel parents to fight for the side of good, or something like that. …Yes, they may have had a tiny bit to do with sabotaging certain… spells, or parents' wands...before the final battle, but that definitely was not something to be proud of.
Really, Draco sometimes thought petulantly, just because we were smart enough to know that The-Boy-Who-Managed-To-Hang-Onto-Life-By-The-Skin-Of-His-Teeth would defeat Voldie eventually, doesn't mean we're suddenly little angels! It certainly didn't help that Headmaster Dumbledore had endorsed this idea fully, either! But whatever the reasons, the houses were more united now that the war was over than ever before. Thus the slightly pudgy Hufflepuff that was now ignoring Draco and pressing his body more firmly onto Pansy. Draco sighed. What he wouldn't give for some good, honest fear. Even the house elves just chuckled and grinned when he shouted, for fuck's sake!
"Snap out of it, Draco!" A book slapped the back of his head and he turned around, glaring at the person that held Potions Through The Ages in his hands. "Zabini." He hissed. "What was that for?" Blaise just laughed. "No-one-laughs-at-me." Draco gritted out, but it didn't seem to have any effect. One of these days, I'm going to- Blaise slung an arm around his neck and gently pushed him forward. "We'll be late to Defense Against the Dark Arts, you prat," He said affectionately, pulling Justin off Pansy as they walked past. Draco's day improved immediately.
Hurrying through the hallway, Blaise and Draco (with Pansy and Justin trailing behind) skidded to a halt in front of the D.A.D.A. room. Yanking the heavy oak door open, they scrambled into the room, gulping when the heavily robed teacher slowly twisted around. "Late again, Mr. Zabini?" Snape hissed. "Detention for all four of you, and I must say that I am particularly disappointed in you, Miss Parkinson. And you, Mr. Malfoy." Draco nodded a brisk acknowledgement of Snape's disapproving stare. The barmy old coot may have been mouthing anger, but Draco knew where he stood with his favorite teacher. After all, the war may have been over, but Professor Snape had a reputation to maintain. The Game must go on.
Lisa Turpin batted her vivaciously long eyelashes at Draco, smiling fetchingly. He resisted the urge to gag. Pouting, Lisa turned to Goyle, who obligingly leered at her. "What is wrong with Hogwarts!" Draco erupted, turning to Blaise and Theodore Nott, who were sitting on either side of him in the Great Hall. Even though it was supposedly the Slytherin table, Lisa was only one among the throng of Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and even the occasional Gryffindor sitting nearby. Uneasily, of course, because the Game played on, but at the moment it had been put aside. And Draco didn't know why, since it had already been three months since Voldemort's defeat! He'd hexed three Hufflepuffs, cheated off a Ravenclaw, and mocked the Weaslette every time he saw her. But no one had been taking any of his attempts at discord seriously! Slytherin was up in house points, effectively winning the Game, but no one cared! It was driving him crazy!
"Eat some green beans!" Theodore Nott said cheerfully, grinning when Draco clenched his fist. "Nott, don't be funny. This is driving me crazy. You're a Slytherin; can't you feel the difference?" Blaise snorted from Draco's other side. "The only thing that changed is that the gryffindorks think we're heroes after all. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws always follow the crowd. You should be used to it by now!" Blaise said.
Pansy swallowed the last of her chicken and leaned over the table to join in the conversation. "Indeed, Draco. Or don't you recall the incident last week when Granger complimented you on your 'wonderful rendering' of the desinungus charm? If you took that without going crazy, surely a little inter-house mingling won't destroy you." She smirked. "…Or is it because you're just jealous that some of us have been shagging our brains out and you remain sadly alone?" Draco stared at her, jaw dropping, while Blaise and Theodore collapsed into helpless mirth. Concentrating on looking straight ahead to the wall, he held himself in check while his two friends controlled their laughter. "Err, Draco, don't be too angry, Pansy has a point." Theodore pointed out, stifling giggles behind a slim hand.
"There are a few Gryffindors I wouldn't mind getting a piece of." His smile became feral as he glanced over at the end of the Slytherin table, where the Golden Trio were chatting their way through lunch. "Potter!" Draco gasped. Surely that was insane! Theodore shook his head, as if daring the Slytherin Prince to ask again. "Bloody hell, not that mudblood Granger!"
"Don't let Potter hear you say that, or warm fuzzy feelings or no, he'll make sure you regret it," Pointed out Blaise, but Draco didn't register it. Theodore had seemed thoroughly revolted at the idea of wanting to shag Granger, but that only left- oh, that was sick. "No, Theo. Not Weasley. That's just…Erg! Revolting!" Shuddered Pansy, who must have been thinking along the same lines as Draco.
Hmm, Weasley. Although he rejected it at once, Draco had to admit Nott had a distinctive taste. Ron Weasley had matured since sixth year, growing taller. He was thinly layered with muscle, and his pale skin was lightly dusted with freckles. Red hair fell past his ears, and blue eyes were framed by delicate eyelashes. And those lips… Weasley had always been graced with pouting, full red lips, but somehow they seemed more noticeable.
If, of course, the idea of touching Weasley didn't give one the chills. Draco grimaced. "You're more than welcome to have him, Nott. I doubt anyone will fight you for that dubious honor." He remarked, inwardly giving his trademark smirk; Pansy looked shocked that he hadn't given loud protest.
Yawning, he stood up, and the other Slytherins nearby followed suite. They trudged out of the Great Hall, only to glance back when they heard raucous laughter coming from the sixth year Gryffindors.. Instinct died hard as they looked themselves over to make sure they hadn't been hexed, cursed, or jinxed in any way.
Curse free, they left the hall, not noticing Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger staring at them quizzically.
R&R, please:) Also, a question: which pairing do you want me to write about next?