Notes: I realise that at some point this is going to contradict The Half Blood Prince. However, I conceived this story a long time ago now, so I'm not going to change anything to fit that. Thanks.
Thanks heaps to my beta!
And thank you to all the people who have reviewed my story so far – I love you guys:-)
"When life gives you a lemon you say 'oh Yeah, I like lemons, what else you got?'"
Draco Jr. P.O.V
I walked down to my detention. Snape had wanted me to retake the test on Saturday but I couldn't – personal reasons – so he said I could do it on Friday.
I walked into the classroom to find Potter sitting at a desk with her head down. She didn't lift her head when I walked in. I was surprised to see her, as I thought that I would be doing this on my own. I sat down at a desk, on the opposite side of the room from Potter, and waited for Snape to arrive. He didn't take long.
"I am glad to see you're both on time."
Potter lifted her head, and I could see she was wearing glasses. They were thick, heavy square frames like you sometimes see muggle girls wearing. I hadn't known that she wore them. I guess Snape didn't know either, because he was looking at her strangely, but he didn't comment.
Snape passed the test papers to us. "You have 2 hours."
Damn, but this test wasn't easy. It was a relief when twenty minutes in, a young second year walked into the classroom trembling.
"Excuse me, Professor Snape? Professor McGonagall, would like to see you for a minute."
Snape stood up and said, "No talking, no fighting, and no leaving your sets." He walked out of the room. As the door swung shut behind him, I turned to look to see what Potter was doing.
Her eyes were on her paper, and she was writing fast. As if she felt my eyes on her, she stopped and looked up. "What Malfoy – haven't you seen a pair of glasses before?"
"I just didn't know that you were four-eyes, Potter."
"Just for reading." She smirked at me. "I'm surprised you know anything about me."
I looked at her closely, noticing for the first time that the iris of her eyes were a grey/green colour and the whites were actually a dark red. From potions, I guess. She gave me an odd look before starting to work again.
"I know more about you than you think," I drawled to annoy her.
"That great." She looked up again, "But can you shut up? I mean, I am surprised to see you, the great Draco Malfoy Jnr., fail a potions test. But Snape likes to fail me, so even if I do better than you, I am going to fail. Shut the hell up," she snarled, before turning her eyes back down to her paper resolutely.
"Potter," I snapped. "I have told you about your mouth before, would you like other detention?"
"Bite Me."
"Is that the best come back you can come up with? Pretty lame," I told her.
"Is that your best?" she said, sarcastically, still looking at her paper, but I doubt she was focusing on it.
"Bite Me," I mocked her, and I started to move out of my chair. The legs scraped against the floor, making a loud noise, and she jumped. "Scared, Potter?"
I smirked at her. Before she could say anything, though, Snape walked in and looked at the both of us suspiciously.
"What is going on in here?" he asked.
"Nothing," we both said at the same time.
"Then why are you not doing your work?"
We both started again, Snape went behind his desk to do some work. About an hour later, he spoke again, "Potter, did you reference this essay on werewolves, or did you just make it up?"
"Reference, sir. It's completely factual."
"Then why is it all wrong?"
She sighed, but did not answer.
"How about you take this back, and by Monday I want it rewritten. This time make sure you do a better job."
She sighed again. "Yes, sir." She went back to work, so did Snape. I looked at her for a second she lifted her eyes away from what she was doing and looked at the front and pulled the fingers at Snape. Man, was she pissed.
I'm glad I'm not in her shoes.
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Ject P.O.VI spent Saturday in the library doing Snape's essay. What is this world coming to, when someone who is young and free is not outside in the sun, but inside writing about bloody werewolves of all things?
Both Jeff and Ben were acting funny around me and wouldn't stay in the room for long periods of time. I tried to talk to them about Quidditch, but they always changed the subject whenever I did. Something was up, and I didn't like it at all. In the end, I gave up, deciding that it wouldn't matter if I did it Sunday night, Snape wouldn't know the difference, and hey maybe he'd like it better.
"Hey, Ject," said a voice from behind me. I looked up to see Matt, shifting nervously.
"Oh, hi. I was just coming to see you, and find out what happened with tryouts. Who's on the new team?"
"First, I want to talk to you about something. Your dad is like the best seeker in the world," he told me.
"So?"
"And your grandfather…"
"Where are you heading with this? Because you're losing my interest – fast." I put my hands on my hips.
"I want you to try out for seeker. I mean, it is in your blood…"
"No."
"Come on. Just try out, and if you are no good, that's fine you can still be a beater," he wheedled.
"No."
"Why don't you just try – that's all I'm asking," he pleaded with me.
"NO!" I yelled. "I said no, and that's what I mean!"
All the people in the library looked at us, and the librarian walked over.
"Out – the both of you!" she pointed to the door.
I grabbed my stuff, and walked out, Matt on my heels.
"Come on," he said from behind me.
"No."
Our conversation went on like that until we got to the Gryffindor's common room.
I walked up to my friends, who were sitting together. From the way they looked back at me, I could tell that they knew what Matt was asking, and my anger grew. I angled away for them, heading instead for my dorm.
"Come on, Ject," Matt tried again.
"Bugger off, Matt. I said, No!"
And as I was about to open the door, Matt tried this last resource. "Do you want to be on the team this year?"
I turned and looked at him. "Are you kicking me off the team?"
"Try out for Seeker."
"Go to hell!" I slammed the door in his face.
I rubbed my eyes hard and grabbed my towel. I slammed the door to the bathroom as well and locked it. When the tub had filled, I slid into the water, letting it flow over me, warmth spreading through my limbs.
How could they do that to me? I loved Quidditch. I needed to fly. I loved the feeling, the way it completed me. I loved how my heart quickened with a close game. I just loved to fly. Damn them all. I hit the wall hard with a fist. My hand hurt like hell, but the rest of me felt a little better. I only stayed in the water for a couple more minutes, and then I got out, dried myself, redressed and walked out of the bathroom.
Jackie was sitting on her bed waiting for me. I walked past her and picked up my werewolf essay. Snape is an arsehole. He's not even the Defence Against Dark Arts teacher. Who the hell does he think he is? Does he think he is letting out a big secret on uncle Remus? For god's sake, I do know my own godfather is a werewolf.
Jackie came and sat of my bed. "Get over yourself," she told me.
I gave her a fake smile. "Can I help you with something?"
She shook her head in disgust. "You're throwing away something you're good at just because your father is good at it. Do you hate him that much?"
"I don't hate him. I love him. But why do I have to do what he does? Why can't I just be good at my own things?" I said, starting to pace in frustration. I am not the great god Harry Potter – I'm just his daughter. Why do people always try to make me be like him?
"What if this is what you are good at?" she asked softly.
"You haven't seen me play," I told her.
"I am not that brain dead about Quidditch, you know. My brother, boyfriend, and best friends are mad on it. I see the way you act, the way you see things that others don't, and Ben told me how you used to play Seeker when you guys were little. It was only when you started Hogwarts that everything changed and people saw you as 'Harry Potter's daughter,'" she said seriously.
"Whatever." I turned my head away from her, looking down at my desk instead.
"Okay, let me make this easy for you. I dare you to try out for Gryffindor Seeker, and to make it even better, Draco Jnr. is the Slythrin Seeker. Then you can start competing at everything."
"You think you're funny, don't you?" I glanced back at her only to see a slight smile pulling at her lips. Damn girl was smirking at me!
"Oh, of course."
"I am not trying out."
Jackie shrugged. "Fine, whatever." She stood and left me to finish my essay. It was better than having to go out a face everyone anyway – may the gods strike me dead for saying it.
As it got darker that evening, the beds slowly filled up. After all the girls were asleep my stomach told me that I was hungry. I opened my trunk and started to looked for some sweets, but a small box caught my eyes first.
When I pulled it out, I realised that it was the box that held my grandfathers snitch. I have very few things that belong to my father's parents. Dad has never really had much in the way of their possessions. Most of what he had of my grandparents, my father has given to me: the invisibility cloak, Marauder's Map and the golden snitch, which my uncle Remus managed to recover. Dad passed them on to me, because we used to play with bewitched ping-pong balls, but after a while that got easy and I needed more.
I took all three things and walked into the common room. A few people still sat around the fire. I didn't stop to see who was there, but just walked right to the portrait. When I was out the Fat Lady swung closed behind me. I started to put on the cloak when the door opened again and Ben hopped out.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Nowhere," I said frigidly.
"I'll come."
"No, you won't."
"Come on," he pleaded.
"Fine, do whatever you want."
Opening the Marauder's Map, I checked to make sure that the way to the Room of Requirement was clear. Walking three times past the door, I asked for a room that was somewhere I could be alone. We walked in, and I pulled the cloak off. The room was full of soft looking beanbag-type cushions. Dumping my stuff on the table, I sat down in a chair. Ben sat next to me.
"You should try out, you know, and if it doesn't work…"
"It doesn't work now."
"Come on."
"I said no, and I came down here so I didn't have to hear about it."
Ben took the box with the snitch and opened it, taking the flittering object in his hand. "Why not?"
"Because."
He let go of the snitch and he lost it pretty much straight away. I watched it fly around above his head for a few moments, then leaned forward and grabbed it. My father wouldn't be happy if it were lost. I snatched the box back, put the snitch back in, and snapped the lid shut, placing it back on the table.
"Bit grumpy?"
"No, I just don't want to lost one of the only things I have of my grandfather's." He's surrounded by family; he's got so much, he doesn't know what to do with them all.
On the map, I could see a third year about to walk into a couple of perfects, and this made me think about my grandfather. He was always sneaking around making pranks, getting into trouble. James Potter passed that ability on to his son, along with his one to play Quidditch. I wondered if I could ever be as great as them.
After a long time, I gave up and sighed. "Fine. I'll try out. But if I don't like it, I'm pulling out. Then I won't be doing Quidditch, and I will be very unhappy, and it will be all because of you," I told him.
"Great!" he smiled brilliantly at me as if he had no worries about anything at all.
Friends!
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Sticks and stones are hard on bonesAimed with angry art
Words can sting like anything
But silence breaks the heart.
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