When Draco arrived at the Potions Dungeon, he saw many of his fellow fifth year Slytherins queued up outside. Severus was saying something to Evan Rosier, when Draco came up to him. Rosier was a quiet sort of boy, shorter than Draco was, with the kind of dark brown hair found on many people throughout the world. He was quite unremarkable.
"So, I hear you're going to be taking my place on the Quidditch team, eh? Well, good luck; you'll be needing it..." Evan muttered.
Severus gave Evan an imperious look. "He hasn't actually tried out yet, but if he does get in, Rosier, we expect your support."
"Sure..." Evan sulked. Draco became a bit annoyed with Rosier's attitude. If he wasn't such a lousy Seeker, then he'd still be on the team. The Captain has to do what he has to do.
"I hope you know that it's nothing personal," Draco said to him as some of the Gryffindor students arrived. Evan didn't answer at first, but when he caught sight of the notorious Gryffindor Beaters, Potter and Black, he shuddered.
"Right," he muttered even more darkly.
Draco looked at some of the other Gryffindors. The only boys were the four he'd seen earlier, Potter, Lupin, Black and that other kid. The other Gryffindors were all girls, and there were five of them. One of them had a pair of emerald eyes that so reminded him of Harry Potter that he couldn't believe it. Draco looked at Severus, who was staring at her with longing in his black eyes that shocked Draco.
Before Draco could comment, the sour-pussed teacher he'd seen in Snape's old place at the teacher's table appeared. Everyone fell silent as he passed them, and Draco frowned when he saw Severus' expression. It was one of sheer loathing.
When they marched inside, this teacher set his eyes on Draco. "So," he announced, "I have the privilege and honor of teaching yet another one of you brats. Very well. Partner up with Lupin there."
Draco blinked. "Brat? Don't you think I'm a bit long in the tooth to be called a 'brat?'" he asked.
This teacher smiled nastily. "Yes, perhaps you're right, you are a bit long in the tooth to be acting like a brat. Five points from Slytherin. Now take your seat, Mr. Malfoy..."
Too shocked that he'd lost points for Slytherin so quickly, Draco didn't say another word. He sat down at a big cauldron near Severus'. Remus Lupin sat down next to Draco, not looking very happy about it at all.
"Today we will be brewing wit sharpening potions. I expect that you all have done the assigned reading from Chapter 19, along with the essays on the uses of cat's claw." Draco had to struggle to keep his mouth closed. He wanted to say that he had gone over wit sharpening potions in fourth year in Snape's class. "Mr. Malfoy, name the three types of ivy used in potions..."
Draco smirked and replied, "Common, Ground, and Poison, sir."
The sour-puss, who Draco still didn't know by name yet, sniffed and said, "Correct, Mr. Malfoy. It looks like we'll also be having a blond version of Mr. Snape in this class." Draco didn't speak, because he didn't want to lose any more points. "I just hope that you can keep Mr. Lupin from spraying the classroom with armadillo bile..."
Draco turned to look at Lupin, who looked even more unhappy than before. He wished that he didn't have to partner with him. He hated having a bad potions partner. Crabbe or Goyle were bad enough, but at least they didn't melt cauldrons.
With a sigh, he and Lupin began brewing. He let Lupin light under the cauldron, because that was a charm, not potion-brewing. Then, he began adding the water and nettle wine, which were by the gargoyle shaped sinks. Draco went to get them, and met up with Snape, who was partnered with Evan.
"Careful," Snape warned in a whisper, "Colton is a real asshole."
"Right..." Draco whispered back. He looked back, and saw Professor Colton giving them both the evil eye. Draco hurried back with the water and nettle wine, and then began having Lupin shred some blackroot and stir it into the cauldron.
"Looks pretty good so far..." Draco murmured.
"Aw... isn't that nice, you offering words of encouragement to this hopeless case of a wizard." Professor Colton said the words, but in the nastiest tone possible. "Five points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy. I do not allow talking in my classroom. I've been taking only five points per infraction so far because I do realize that you are new to this class, but from now on, I'll be taking ten each, Mr. Malfoy. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," Draco answered resentfully. Colton turned on his heel and started looking for more trouble with some of the other students.
Draco watched as Lupin carefully droppered some essence of Viper's Bugloss into the bubbling brew. This made it turn a beautiful shimmering purple. In spite of the fact that he was in a potions class being taught by Adolf Hitler, Draco smiled. Nothing could take away the thrill of his success with the potion; it was by far his best Art. He was dying to go over to Snape's cauldron to see if his was the same color. One thing that Draco didn't understand was Professor Colton's problem with Lupin; so far, he seemed fine.
"Mr. Potter, if you weren't so busy staring at that Mudblood classmate of yours, your potion would not be bright orange! Ten points from Gryffindor!" Draco dropped his ladle in the cauldron from shock. To hear a teacher call a student "Mudblood" was unbelievable! How did he get away with it? Especially with Dumbledore as headmaster?
Draco carefully took out his wand from his robes and, while Colton's back was turned, he pointed it into the cauldron. "Accio!" he whispered, and the ladle snapped up into his dragonskin-gloved hand. He glanced aroung again nervously. Colton was prowling along the far right wall, looking over the Gryffindor girls cauldrons with a scowl.
"Having trouble with the armadillo bile yet, Lupin?" he barked from across the dungeon. Draco looked up at Lupin, who seemed frozen with uncertainty. Did Colton expect him to answer him or not? Just then, Draco smelled something coming from his formerly beautiful potion, which had abruptly turned white hot and was bubbling dangerously. Without warning, the entire cauldron began to melt!
Draco waved his wand, and the mess vanished very quickly, but Colton had seen what had happened, and the entire class now could smell the melted pewter... "What happened there, Lupin? Melted your cauldron again, did you? And here I thought that Mr. Malfoy was going to coach you through this lesson! That will be twenty points deducted from Slytherin and thirty points deducted from Gryffindor. And detention for the both of you. Perhaps now you'll finally understand how to conduct yourselves in my class."
Lupin looked extremely upset, perhaps as upset as Draco felt. He held his wand in midair in a state of shock. The entire disaster took less than thirty seconds to progress from start to finish. He glanced at Severus, who seemed to be gesturing at Draco about something. He couldn't figure out what it was. Was he pointing to his wand? Draco gave a start, and hurriedly put his wand back into his robe pocket.
The final fifteen minutes of class were spent with both Draco and Remus Lupin sitting at their desks looking extremely glum while the rest of the students continued brewing in agonizing silence. As Professor Colton swept past them to approach Snape and Rosier's cauldron, Draco followed with his eyes. Colton peered down into Snape's cauldron, made a face like he'd bitten into a lemon, but said nothing, and stalked off. Draco tiptoed very carefully while Colton looked for trouble elswhere in the class. He looked into Snape's cauldron, and grinned. Snape grinned back, and then Draco hurried back to his desk, while Colton rattled off complaints, like, "Sky Blue, Mr. Pettigrew? Well, I suppose it is better than Mr. Lupin's potion came out, eh? Five points from Gryffindor, and before you open your mouth to protest Mr. Black, just be glad it isn't five each for the three of you. Lord and Lady know Gryffindor can't afford to lose any more points today, eh? But don't worry, Mr. Potter. I'm sure Slytherin will lose it's lead very soon with Mr. Malfoy in their ranks now... With an attitude like his, they will not be getting far, that's for sure."
Draco gripped his wand in his pocket, controlling his impulse to incinerate Professor Colton right on the spot. But he told himself it probably wouldn't do any good; Colton would probably turn him into a ferret, like Professor Moody did last year, when he found out he was going to cast a spell behind his back.
Thankfully, the bell rang. Draco was never more glad to get out of any class ever in his life. This was an even worse class than the first day back at school in his second year, when Professor Lockhart called him "Drah-co" instead of "Dray-co" when doing roll call.
"Gad!" Draco growled, and Lestrange sniggered.
"Well, he'd better be good at Quidditch, because that's the only way he'll ever earn his keep for Slytherin..." Evan muttered.
Severus pulled him by the ear angrily. "Don't be an ass, Evan! You still don't get it do you?"
"Get what?" Evan squealed uncomfortably.
"Colton has no real control over the class," Severus told him.
"I dunno," Lestrange said as he shook his head, "Colton seems to rule the class with the proverbial iron fist."
"Don't you understand why that is?" Severus urged him.
"You lost me," Avery, the long haired blond boy, sighed. "Colton's just an asshole. You keep trying to give him a reason to be that way. Don't you know that sometimes there's just no reason for someone's behavior?"
"Let's get going before we're late for Charms," Evan spat. "We don't need to lose any more points for Slytherin. I hope you know how to make it to your class, Malfoy!"
Severus shook his head as Evan hurried along ahead of the rest of them. "I don't get it. He hates going up on a broom every time he plays Quidditch. He even can't stand Hufflepuff's beaters, and they're marshmallows compared to Gryffindor's. He'd better stop acting like a little asshole, or he's going to get it."
"Let him be for now Sev, and later, I'll explain it to you," Draco promised him as they both walked into Charms class.
"God, I've got to eat!" Draco groaned as the group of fifth year Slytherins made their way from Charms to the Great Hall.
"Well, you were so busy this morning, you barely got two mouthfuls in," Lestrange reminded him. "Just sit near us and ignore the Gryffindors, or you won't eat again."
"Good idea." Draco sat down, and his plate filled with Shepherd's Pie.
"Were you a real good student? Back where you came from I mean?" Lestrange asked Draco.
"Yes. Yes I was. In fact, there was probably only one other person in my year that could have possibly beaten me on an exam..." Draco trailed off. His mind became quite filled with Hermione Granger. He might never see her again. Why did this thought bother him so much?Stubbornly, he dug into his pie, and tried to force her out of his mind. He wasn't able to have her even when he was in their own times. But now, he couldn't even see her. She did not exist!
Draco snapped out of his reverie, to focus on things that he actually could do something about. "Where's Roddy? I need to know what time to meet him out on the Quidditch field," Draco asked Perry Albright, the Keeper, as he passed by Draco's seat at the Slytherin table.
"Roddy says meet him right after dinner, just before it gets dark out. Other members of the team will be there too, especially the Beaters. We'll want to see whether you can dodge them..." he told Draco, then became very quiet and scurried off to where a bunch of fourth years were seated before Severus could notice his presence.
"Hmmm..." Lestrange said. Then, he eyed a boy taking his seat at the Ravenclaw table. "See that kid? Crouch?" Lestrange asked Draco.
"Which one is he?" Draco asked. He knew the name Crouch all too well. His father had known him in the Ministry.
"The blond kid next to that Indian girl. He's won Ravenclaw fifty points the other day, for breaking some sort of record for the highest score ever on an Astronomy exam. Could you believe it? And he's only in second year, too!" Lestrange spat. "It's just because his father's a big shot in the Ministry of Magic, y'know... It's just because of who he is. He could go to any damned school, and his father puts him in this one, because he knows Dumbledore. Faugh, it's so set up, this place..." he said bitterly as he waved his hand around at the other kids all eating and laughing and talking.
Draco decided not to answer Lestrange's accusations, though they very well were probably true to some extent. Instead, he stuck some food into his mouth, and looked up at Dumbledore. There he was looking at him again! What, was he expecting something to happen right then and there to show the world what a lousy no good Slytherin he was? Draco stared down at his plate.
"See, I told you. He's staring at me waiting to see if I get into trouble again. D'you know he's told Snape not to be my friend, because he feels I'm a bad influence," Lestrange told Draco, sounding almost proud of that fact rather than ashamed.
"Let's drop the subject, shall we? I want to get a few more pages read before we go to Transfiguration," Snape warned Lestrange. Lestrange made a face, and looked darkly at Avery. Draco noticed something about their look, as though they both knew about something that Snape didn't.
Draco frowned, looked up at Dumbledore, and saw him speaking to Professor Flitwick. What was going on in this school? Was there some sort of racket set up for certain students? In what direction was Draco's work in this time supposed to take him? He wasn't happy; he didn't wish to be involved in all this intrigue while he was trying to educate himself. It was very distracting. Resentfully, he picked up his bookbag, and rose form his seat when the bell rang, and he trudged along to Transfiguration with his fellow classmates with a whirlwind of thoughts blowing through his mind.
After dinner that evening, Draco walked with a spring to his step with his Nimbus 2002 in hand. He was making his way to the Quidditch field, and Severus and Lestrange along with Avery were in tow as well. Avery chatted loudly with Lestrange about how fouled up their Arithmancy homework had become, while Severus walked in silence. Draco glanced at him, and realized that this couldn't be easy for him. Draco was meant to be a permenant replacement for Severus. Suddenly, his step was not quite so light.
"Quit dragging your feet," Severus chided Draco. "This could very well be a very important day in Slytherin's Quidditch future."
"How can you do it?" Draco suddenly asked him. "How can you be so strong about this?"
Severus gaped at Draco. "Strong? I'm not strong!" he retorted. Lestrange and Avery stopped their conversation in midsentence. "And, you were saying something before, something about why Evan's acting like a dumb shit. What were you talking about?"
"Rosier allowed himself to become a victim of Potter's and Black's hype. He's afraid of them soley from their reputation. I'm not afraid of Beaters; I've faced too many of them in my time to be scared of them." He thought of the Weasley twins, Fred and George, Gryffindor's 1990's Beaters. He remembered Marcus Flint going over all the possible moves a Beater might make against you, and all the counter-actions you could take in your defense. "We don't play Griffindor any more this year anyway."
"Oh, yes we do!" Severus told him. "Because of the accident, the game was postponed, as nobody had actually scored as yet." Draco thought about this for a moment. It was rare circumstances that a Quidditch game was postponed due to a player's injury, but, seeing as how there had been no score on the board at the time, it was an easy thing to just restart the game at another time.
Captain Roddy greeted them when they came into his view. He was a bit surprised to see Severus there, but he closed his mouth when he saw the rigid look in Severus' black eyes. "Right then? You have your broom?" he asked. Draco held up his Nimbus 2002, and Roddy's eyes widened.
"What did I tell you about that bitchin' stick of his, eh, Roddy?" Lestrange crowed. "Especially once it gets stuck up Potter's ass!" he added, and all of the Slytherins began to hoot and laugh in approval.
"Let's see how he flies it," Roderick suggested, as he mounted his broom, and had the red Quaffle in his hands as he took off. Draco mounted his Nimbus, and the others gasped as he took off. They had never seen such a smooth takeoff as that before. Draco breathed deeply as the cold twilight air rushed past his face and through his pale hair.
Roderick flew a bit higher, then hurled the Quaffle at Draco. Draco darted to the Quaffle's path, and caught it in his arms. Roddy glided to Draco's side, and Draco handed him the Quaffle. Roddy tossed the Quaffle again, to the right. Draco dove for it and caught it again. It was in this way that Roderick tested Draco a few more minutes. "You'd make a fair Chaser, Malfoy," Roderick declared at last. "But, now, I'm going to get my Beaters in the air. We'll start with tossing the Quaffle back and forth while the Bludgers are loose, and then, we'll get Ashton and Fogerty on you for real."
Draco nodded, and then took off higher in the air. Usually, that was where Seekers wound up hovering most of the game. Beaters, if they were any good, would have to be able to play the entire field, high and low. Ashton and Fogerty took off on their brooms like twin boulders launched from a cannon. The black Bludgers followed, erratically zipping like drunken bees. Roderick began tossing the Quaffle again, and Draco caught it, while ducking a Bludger passing just over his head. He delivered the Quaffle back to Roderick just as the next one whizzed past him. Draco could hear it in the air behind him.
Ashton and Fogerty had been watching all this time, but now, they sprung to life. Draco saw them coming, and whisked away on his Nimbus 2002. He could vaguely hear people down on the ground, screaming to Ashton and Fogerty about all the moves that Potter and Black use on their "victims." Draco had always believed that no Gryffindor would play as dirty as a Slytherin, but he supposed he could be wrong. Roderick had to chase him along, and hurled the Quaffle as far as he could. Draco sliced through the air, while Fogerty began gaining on him. Draco heard the crack of the Bludger against the bat, but artfully dodged his Bludger.
Despite the moonlight bathing them with it's glow, they would have to return to the castle, so the tryout ended as soon as the Bludgers were retrieved from far parts. Draco landed softly, and the other people from his dorm who had come to watch him try out wanted a turn on the broom. Roderick and Draco watched as Lestrange happily mounted the Nimbus 2002 and soared into the air. Avery smirked while watching Lestrange do loops, and Severus stared with his mouth slightly open, apparently in mild shock.
"I wish he'd come down; we have to get in," Roderick complained. Ashton and Fogerty were finished wrestling the Bludgers back in to the case.
"We'll get 'im down," Fogerty told Roderick.
All the while that it took for everyone to return to the Slytherin Common room, Lestrnge whined about the unfairness of his life, and how Ashton and Fogerty had treated him like a baby. With a terse word from Severus about how he was acting like a baby, the two groups parted ways and went to their own dorms. When Lestrange, Draco, and Severus came in, Evan was already in there.
"Well?" he asked them. Severus didn't need to ask what he was talking about.
"It looks like he's in, Rosier."
Evan's face looked like he was halfway between crying and jumping for joy. Lestrange sneered and said, "Well, it's your own doing, Rosier. If you can't take the heat, as they say..."
"Rodolphus!" Severus snapped, "don't rub salt in the wound!"
Evan pouted and turned into his bed. He closed the curtain around him, and shut the rest of them out.
Draco got ready for bed in silence. How would Evan take his being removed from the team? He seemed glad to be relieved of the burden, and yet, he didn't like relinquishing the prestige of being on the house team. He felt badly for Evan, and yet, he didn't. As he turned in for bed himself, he glanced at Severus. Why didn't he seem to be sulking over losing his career in Quidditch? Could it be that Quidditch was not the be all and end all that he'd always thought it was? He had a bad night's sleep that night. He kept dreaming that Evan and Rodolphus were flying after him with Beater's clubs in their hands, and they swatted him down like a pesky insect.