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R&R!
Chapter 3:
Draco left the library after the talk with the Creevey boy, only to realize he forgot to get the book that Professor Snape had asked him to bring back. He really did hate being Snape's gofer, but his father had always told him that the best way to get to the top was to respect those above you and do exactly what they said. Although his father had disappeared at the end of Draco's fifth year, Draco did not hate him. He was never beaten or scolded as a child, just taught the way pureblood wizards were supposed to be taught.
And, though Lucius was very harsh on the boy, he was proud of the young man he had grown into. Draco, in turn, did everything he could to please his father, as long as he didn't mention becoming a liege for the Dark Lord. Draco didn't see eye to eye with Lucius on that matter, and Lucius accepted that, as long as Draco didn't team up with Potter and his gang of do-gooders to take the Death Eaters down. Lucius had lived this life, and he wanted something less constricting and dangerous for Draco. Lucius could never be sure when he'd actually return to the manner or be around for birthdays and holidays. He hated leaving Narcissa and Draco alone for the holidays.
Draco turned back to the library, thinking fondly of the younger years when Lucius would be around all the time. He hated that old monster, Voldemort, for taking his father away from his mother and himself.
Draco found the book, and began his trek to the Snape's classroom. As he entered, Snape looked up. "Draco, who else was in here last night?"
"No one that I know of, Professor," Draco said, placing the book on Snape's desk.
"There was a sixth year Potion's book here yesterday before I left. It happens to be gone now. Do you know anything about that?"
"No, sir. No clue at all," Draco lied. "I've got Quidditch practice in fifteen minutes, Professor. May I go, now?"
"Yes, of course. Are you coming back tonight to oversee the detentions?" Snape asked as he moved toward the ingredients closet.
"Of course, Professor. Who will be serving my every whim tonight?" Draco asked, with a roll of his eyes.
"Just one student. Ginevra Weasley," Professor Snape called from inside the closet. Draco's eyes widened somewhat as he heard this, then his face went stone again before the professor could see. "She somehow managed to get her book out of my classroom in time to finish her essay last night. She won't admit it, but she either snuck out after curfew, got someone else to sneak out after curfew, or copied it. Whichever way, she broke the rules, and she'll be here tonight."
"Fine, after practice, then, Professor," Draco said nonchalantly as he headed out of the room.
Professor Snape walked out of the potion's closet, eyebrow raised. Of course, Draco had been trained to not show his feelings, and was quite good at it, but one who was also trained in the same such way could always tell when the other was frantic.
Of course, Professor Snape didn't know of the young boy's small infatuation with the Weasley girl, but he could guess that there was something about her that caused the ounce of excitement in his voice.
Draco walked slowly enough to his practice–he could afford to be late, he was the captain. As he walked onto the field, he saw the team laying around on the edge.
"What do you prats think you're doing?!" he cried, storming up to them. "We have a match in two weeks, you should all at least be flying by now! Get up off your arses and on your brooms!"
The team scrambled up and jumped on their brooms. Blaise, though, walked up to pat his friends on the back. "You're overseeing Snape's detentions tonight, am I right?" he asked.
"What of it?" Draco asked, staring at the sky where his teammates were now warming up.
"Little Weasel is in detention tonight, am I right?" Blaise smirked.
Draco whipped his wand out. "Blaise, if you don't get up there flying right this second, I'll hex your arse into next millenium. Get it?"
Blaise threw his hands up and backed away. "I guess I found the reason for you to be such a domineering jerkoff. Don't mind me, then, Draco, old boy. Your little obsession with the redhead is none of my business. Guess I'll just go practice now." Draco glared at the taunting boy.
"I. Am. Not. Obsessed. With. Her." Blaise, mounting his broom, saw a storm brewing in Draco's eyes, but didn't back down from his taunting expression. "I'm just very frustrated that this team will lose to Gryffindor again and none of you give a damn about it! Now, get to practicing!"
"Whatever you say, mate. Wish you'd just shag her and get it over with, though. It would make Quidditch practice a million times less frantic," Blaise said as flew off with a Quaffle.
"Bloody arse. The git thinks I'm obsessed with a bloody Weasley. Obsessed! Why would anyone ever think I was obsessed with a Weasley!" Draco asked himself. "So, maybe I do have a little infatuation. But I'm not obsessed. My dad was obsessed with Lord Voldemort. He joined a cult to worship him. I'm not joining a cult to worship her. Why does the git think I'm obsessed with her?!" Draco mounted his broom, hoping that a little late afternoon flying would cause him to forget all about his dilemma he had gotten himself into.
High above him, Blaise and Theodore watched Draco talking to himself. "Bloody mental, that one is," Theodore stated.
"It's the Weasel's fault," Blaise replied.
"The Weasel? You mean Potter's best friend?"
"No, the younger one. The female one," Blaise corrected him.
"Ah, Ginny. She's a spitfire, all right. So, he fancies her?"
"Not just fancies. He cries her name in the middle of the night. I don't think he knows it, though." Blaise paused, watching Draco fling his hands about as he mounted his broom. "His face colors whenever he sees her. He ends up angry after he sees her with Potter. We're being put through hell right now because he's spending three hours overseeing a detention tonight–with just her."
"He's obsessed," Theodore commented.
"I believe so," Blaise replied. "And he doesn't even know it."
"Like I said. Bloody mental." The two flew off to look as if they were actually practicing.
Two hours later, the group of Quidditch players ambled back up to their dorms. "Have fun tonight, Draco. Don't do anything crazy," Theodore called. Draco glared at Blaise, taking special care not to look like he really cared. Blaise laughed.
Intimidating Gryffindors was always so much easier, Draco decided as he grabbed his own potion-related books out of his bookshelf. He started the trek to the Potions classroom with a sour look on his face. He had the feeling that this night was going to be very difficult.