Chapter five: The gathering storm

"I can't take much more of this…" Blaise remarked, his normally cool and callous voice, now filled with irritation.

It had been a week since the Slytherins had found themselves expatriated from their home. The Gryffindors were ignoring them for the most part, sticking to their side of the room and leaving them alone, just as Draco had instructed Hermione to do their first night in.

It would've been fine, if they would all just shut up for a bit. As it was, the Gryffindors tended to make an inordinate amount of noise; Everything from gossiping, to singing, with the occasional fit of tongues. (That was what the other Gryffindors called it when Lavender fell to her knees and began making a prediction, sometimes incorporating strange neologisms.)

Dean was mostly responsible for the singing, not because he sang, but because he played the guitar. The other Gryffindors found singing along together to be a lovely little pastime. The Slytherins found the group-singing of what must've been folk music, extremely disturbing.

Draco found that nothing was quite as horrendous as watching Harry Potter and Hermione Granger singing together, especially that particular ballad that seemed to be constructed solely for psychopathic couples. He was told the composer was called "Nine Inch Nails," a fitting name for an insane muggle, in Draco's opinion.

He remembered his shock when Potter came down the boy's stairs after dinner, dressed in an overly large black shirt that extended past his knuckles to cover all but his fingers, and huge jeans that were cut off and frayed at his mid calf. His trainers, Draco was told, were called "chucks," and were the preferred shoe of "punks," what ever that was.

A Stab of horror went through Draco when he caught sight of the back of the cutt-off wonders, where two frayed slits stood open beneath the two back pockets on either butt cheek. You could see his boxers through the slits.

Draco would've very much liked to tell Potter to go upstairs and change, but that would mean admitting he had seen what made those trousers so inappropriate, which would also mean admitting he had been looking at Potter's rear, which he was not prepared to do.

To further his horror, the trouser-made-shorts, seemed to be Potter's favorite thing to wear.

This evening in particular, found Potter sitting in those shorts, between Granger and Thomas, singing what Draco and Blaise had dubbed "The sociopath song."

"With the lights out

It's less dangerous

Here we are now

Entertain us

I feel stupid

And contagious

Here we are now

Entertain us..

Yeah!"

"God.. make it stop." Pansy moaned, which only irked Draco's thinning patience even more.

It also did not help that Granger's favorite clothes included a large baggy shirt that looked like it belonged to Potter or Weasely, and the tiniest shorts he'd ever seen.

Draco was still puzzling over how she got them on, because in addition to being toooo short, they were also skin tight. He could see her panty line through the shorts when she bent over. After encounters like that, he'd have to leave the room for a breather, and then beat his face against the wall in self-disgust.

"At least it's not that other toneless trash…" Draco muttered back, referring to their other favorite piece of music, which Draco imagined could go quite well with the death scene from Romeo and Juliet. He was keeping his eyes on his book, and ignoring Granger's legs.

It wasn't his fault, he reasoned. Slytherin girls were proper pure bloods who did not wear such things. Skin was rarely shown in the common room, as those who did change out of their uniforms, tended to wear casual robes that covered even more than the uniform did.

Seduction, although this thinking was completely against the stereotype, was not a part of the Slytherin's life style. Alas, all purebloods were expected to be virgins until marriage, and there happened to be a full proof charm to detect premarital relations for both genders. The purity expectation, coupled with the tradition of arranged marriages, made risky clothes and even dating an exercise in futility, so no one really bothered. Cunning and ambition were all find and well, but they did not override practicality.

Never did Draco lament his fate, until he happened upon a truly horrific site. He was innocently going to his room during lunch to get some extra studying done, but instead found himself studying Lavender's body on Seamus' bed. After some screaming and yelling, and much blushing, Draco removed himself from the situation posthaste. Only afterwards, when he had calmed down a bit, did he begin hitting his head against the wall in a new kind of self-disgust; Jealousy.

Jealous of a half-muggle. He thought in disgust, Just because he's allowed to sleep around like an animal.

Draco had always been taught, just like all other purebloods of high class, that only lowly plebeians, who were no better than animals, slept around and bred outside of wedlock. One who could not maintain one's virginity had no control over himself, and gave in to carnal desires mindlessly. He still believed it was true, but that belief didn't help to quell his raging hormones.

It was a mark of how desperate the situation was getting, that he actually tried to talk to Zabini civilly about what he had seen, in hopes of getting some reassurance. He thought Blaise, more than anyone else, would understand his feelings on the matter. In a typical Blaise-style, the black haired boy had given just the opposite: Reminding Draco that after he was married, he could screw who ever he wanted. Then Blaise had run from the room, laughing like a maniac, to avoid Draco who was intent on pounding his face in.

So Draco found himself caught at an ethical cross road, torn between hatred of the Gryffindors with their proletarian blood and their common culture, and the admiration he had of Hermione Granger's legs.

"At least that's all she's got… it could be worse…" Crabbe reminded him, having suffered the same affliction. Draco pretended not to know what he was talking about, and determinately stared at the book on his lap.

"We've got to get out of here." Blaise muttered horridly, as the song changed and more Gryffindors joined in the singing.

"Any ideas?" Millicent asked desperately, eyeing Potter's boxers through the slits on his rear with hungry eyes.

"There must be a way to secure the Slytherin dorms. Make them safe from The Dark Lord." Pansy, ever the lust-less, said.

"As if he'd destroy our dorms, half our parents are following him." Goyle muttered, and received several "shhh!"'s in response.

"We know it's safe, but we've got to make sure everyone else knows it's safe before they'll let us go back." Blaise said.

"Well…. What can we do?"

"We have to restore the foundation magic, except it must be bound to someone else, who will never try to destroy it with his blood." Draco said, his eyes on his book.

All eyes turned to him, and the circle drew closer together.

"What?" But Crabbe was ignored.

"How?" Blaise's more prudent question was answered.

"The same way it was done the first time. The same magic used to create Hogwarts." Draco answered.

"But that'll need a really powerful wizard!" Gasped Pansy. "The person invoking the spell has to transfigure nearly 1/6 of the castle at once! The dungeons connect to the foundation of Hogwarts… if the spell is botched…"

"Which is probably why Dumbledor hasn't done it yet. That, and you'd have to be in the epicenter of what you are transfiguring. It's too dangerous for anyone to go down there long enough to perform the spell, the stone could come crashing down around you." Said Draco.

"But we already know that isn't going to happen…" Millicent said.

"But who could summon the magic." Blaise looked around at his expatriated compatriots.

"Spend all your time waiting

For that Second chance

For the Break that'll make it okay

There's always one reason

To feel not-good enough

And it's hard at the end of the day

I need some distraction

OH, Beautiful release

As the Memory seeps through my veins

Let me be empty

And weightless and maybe

We'll find some peace tonight.."

The Slytherin's eyes widened at the beautiful, mellifluous song, so full of bittersweet sadness that was coming from Hermione Granger. There heads floated upward from their huddle, to watch her as she poured her heart out to the admiring crowd. Outside, rain lashed against the windows and seemed to come from no where, as the frame only gave view to an endless sea of darkness. Inside the common room, however, two fires were sending warm light over the cushy chairs of mixed color. On one such chair, Hermione's voice mirrored the firelight, warm and calming.

"In the arms of an angel

Fly away from here

From your dark cold hotel room

And endlessness that you feel

You were pulled from the wreckage

Of your silent reverie

Your in the arms of the angel

May you find some comfort here…"

"We don't need her." Draco said at once, noticing the directions his friends were taking.

"Draco, listen… They only had to transfigure small portions of the castle at once. These were the greatest wizards of the age, and even they couldn't have handled 1/6 of the castle all at the same time." Pansy reasoned.

"Dumbledor's the only one who can do it… no student would even stand a chance…" Millicent added.

"Not even Granger?" Blaise asked. The Slytherins' lips tightened as one.

They hated to admit the blaring truth: Granger was brilliant in everything to do with magic, even more so than some of them.

"Even the mudblood. No one could do it.." Draco confirmed.

"So why even bring it up and give us hope?" Millicent snapped at him. She didn't like bringing up the refutation of all her beliefs for no good reason.

"Because there is more than one of us." Draco said simply. Blaise gave an annoyed snort.

"What?" Crabbe said again.

"I said, no one could do it." Draco repeated. "That doesn't mean that more than one couldn't do it."

"But how?" Blaise, ever the more prudent, asked.

"That's what I've been looking up. Imagine if you could work in exact tandem with someone else." Draco held up the book he had been trying to read.

In an extreme fit of irony, the book was Moste Potente Potions. The page opened was an amazingly complex potion called "The Synergist potion."

"What does it do?" Millicent asked.

"Bind the drinkers' minds together, so they can perform magic as one. The more drinkers the more risky. At best, it'll allow the drinkers to cast a spell in tandem, combining all of their powers as one, at worst, it'll make the drinkers permanently insane." He shrugged. "If we are going to do it, this is probably the only way."

"How long have you been researching this?" Pansy asked incredulously.

"Since I discovered the dormitory to be a sick haven of lunatics, I took refuge in the library and… well… it gets boring in there. Zabini isn't the only one who wants out of this hole." Draco replied, and shuddered at the memory of Seamus and Lavender.

"What did you see?" Asked Millicent slyly. A sickening smile warped Blaise's features when Malfoy shuddered.

"Nothing I need ever think on again!" He snapped back, then began rubbing his forehead furiously. "Honestly, it's been a constant headache since I got here.. don't they EVER shut up?" He snarled.

"Oi!" Blaise called, standing up. Potter, who had resumed singing another depressed song, fell silent, as did everyone else. Hands slowly went to wand handles all over the room, as though the Gryffindors had been expecting this all along. "Much better." Blaise said to the shocked-silent common room. He sat down again.

Talk resumed in distinctly low and annoyed tones.

"So when do we do it?" Pansy asked.

"Zabini, how long will it take to brew this at your top speed." Draco handed the brilliant potions student the book. This was another milestone along the path of desperation- Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were actually willing to work together - and every one in the circle knew it.

Blaise examined it, his brows furrowing as his eyes moved down the page.

"I don't think I can brew this…" He said at last.

Draco made an irritated noise, and gestured him to get on with it.

"Alright, if I tried, it would take a week… the week of the black moon."

"Black moon?" Goyle asked.

"It's what you call it when the moon is completely covered by the earth from the sun's rays. Then the moon is reborn as the crescent and it begins the cycle of waxing until it is full, and waning again until it is gone." Millicent supplied.

"I still don't think I can make this." Blaise said fretfully. "Besides the complexity of the mixture, the ingredients are .. well… illegal. How on earth are we going to come by powdered basilisk tooth?" He muttered to himself.

Pansy looked up at Draco, who was determinedly looking out of the window.

"She had a dream some nights ago, got her all bothered in the loo." Pansy said softly.

"What do I care." Draco replied with harshness.

"We all want to get out of here…" Millicent added with similar softness.

"You know she can get the powdered basilisk tooth…." Pansy added.

"And anything else really… If she gets caught that's her problem." Blaise said. "And I could use an extra hand, someone who really knows potions, to help me brew this muck."

"Haven't you read the entire page?" Draco asked. "Who ever is involved in brewing it has to be the one to drink it. If she helps, she'll have to be one of the drinkers."

"Combining brains with you for a bit would certainly change her outlook on life." Pansy smiled. "And no one in Slytherin could fault you for using Granger like this, She'd be helping us get our dorm back… ensuring the safety and continued prosperity of all of Slytherin house."

"If they can't get the dorm back, they might just stop sorting people into Slytherin. They'd just eliminate the house completely." Milly added.

"Can't fault me? We have to use an effing Gryffindor to rebuild our dorm, it's the embarrassment of all Slytherins." Draco defended. "Look," He cut them off before they could respond. "Maybe you are ok with becoming part of Granger's brain for a bit, but I am not." He said to them. "And if it doesn't work, that's it… Our brains will be stuck together forever… what a lovely life!"

"Then don't be one of the drinkers." Blaise said lightly. "Problem solved. I'll drink, so will Granger… we need people who are good at transfiguration." Blaise looked around at the other Slytherins.

Pansy was looking at Draco.

"Did you have something else you wanted her to do?" She asked knowingly. "Is that why you don't want this?"

Draco was still looking out of the window onto the nothingness of the storm. He shook his head.

Blaise smiled slyly.

"Perhaps you wanted to examine those shorts more closely?" He suggested.

Immediately Draco was on his feet and had his housemate by the collar of his robes. The two boys were almost nose to nose.

The other Slytherins' faces mirrored their horror. Draco always had too much brass when it came to Blaise's comments- because all the others knew NEVER to piss of Blaise Zabini.

"Easy!" Blaise said, the sly humor still on his face.

"Take. That. Back." Draco snapped. The common room was once again silent as the others looked onto the altercation.

"Draco, let him go." Pansy ordered and motioned to Crabbe and Goyle to break them up, which they did.

Draco's nerves were already frayed, and all he wanted was an excuse to pound someone's face in just to have it all out with. Crabbe, who was now restraining him, seemed like a good candidate, but now more than ever, Slytherins had to protect their own, so he mastered the impulse to hex his housemate, and instead stormed off up the boy's stair case.

"Sensitive." Blaise remarked casually as Draco retreated.

"It's stupid comments like that which keep you two from being friends!" Pansy spat at him, and stormed off as well.

"Is anyone else going to overreact tonight?" Blaise asked the others. The group fell silent, and allowed the sound of the thrashing rain outside and the renewed singing of the Gryffindors to wash over them.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The rain continued into the next day, blackening the day light that normally pierced through the large castle windows.

Draco's temper had not improved with sleep, as he had hoped it would. Because he had went up so early, he slept early, and consequently felt groggy with over-sleep. He barely noticed where he was going on his way to the great hall for breakfast, and accidentally brushed past someone ahead of him with a little too much force. He recalled himself when the person hit the floor and he was nearly knocked backwards.

"Sorry…" He muttered quickly and distractedly. He took another step back when he saw that it was Hermione Granger who was getting to her feet. Her hair was hiding her face, and even if it were tied back, her eyes were glued to the floor as she righted herself. She turned away and continued towards the great hall without a word.

If anything this behavior annoyed him even more.

He had noticed, of course, her change in behavior towards him since he'd told her off that first night in the tower. Ever since then she hadn't looked him in the face, nor had she spoken a word to him unless she had to in class. At first, he had thought she was ill, because a pink blush suffused her face every time he caught sight of her, but last night, when Pansy mentioned the dream that had disturbed Granger into wakefulness, he connected the dots.

The result filled him with self-disgust, not because the connection between himself and Granger was solidifying, but because that connection gave him hope. He had to admit to himself in that moment, that he had spent most of his time in school, fuming with jealousy over Famous- Potter and Perfect- Granger. Because of recent events, he was not only one-up on Potter, but he was also connected to someone Potter was, in a deeper way than Potter himself.

It was silly really, but saving Hermione was like vindication at last. For a moment, hope flowed through, because he proved through action something he'd been trying to do his whole life: that he could be just as much the hero as Potter was. More than that, with the debt Hermione owed him, he could make her choose himself over Potter… it was that last thought which filled him with sickness and self-disgust more than any other.

He tried to reason with himself, tell himself that he was used to getting everything, and it wasn't unnatural to want the fame and glory and friends Potter had; That it wasn't wrong for him to want to beat Potter at something, even if it was just securing the …loyalty or… friendship or WHATEVER! From Hermione.. just as long as it was something… anything he beat Harry at.

Last night, Blaise's comment reawakened these thoughts and the sense of self-disgust -that he'd had to force off his face- when the realization hit him. It reminded him of why he didn't want to use the life-debt on anything but beating Potter.

Still, if winning over Potter meant having this twist of guilt every time he saw Hermione obeying him, and leaving him alone, than it really wasn't so great after all.

He shrugged and continued to the great hall, deciding not to think on it any longer.

He kept that promise to himself until break, when the rain forced the students into empty classrooms rather than the courtyard.

He walked into a classroom of stricken and tense faces. Two people were standing, Elise DeFey, a Slytherin third year, and some hufflepuff kid who looked like a third or forth year. The two were yelling at the top of their lungs at each other.

"…Act like we wanted this!" Elise was yelling when Draco walked in. "We didn't want to be a part of your stinking house of losers."

"It doesn't change the fact that you are now on OUR turf! You Slytherins can't strut around with arrogance picking on who you like anymore! The whole lot of you are no good, everyone says so… and you've got no house now because of it. You'd think you'd be a little humbled by the experience. In any case, being inOUR house means following OUR rules, and if you don't like it.. you can clear off to Azkaban where you belong!" The hufflepuff screamed.

There were some enthusiastic 'YEAH!'s from the crowd that had gathered behind the belligerent girl. A crowd of Slytherins had also gathered behind Elise, red faced with fury and embarrassment.

Draco stood at the door, eyeing his prey critically.

"follow our rules." Draco quoted softly. "What rules are those?" He drawled. He stifled a laugh at the look of horror that crossed the hufflepuffs' faces. Elise and her friends spun around with looks of deepest relief and appreciation, their savior had come. Draco might be a bastard to those in other houses, but Slytherins protected their own.

The hufflepuff girl who had been yelling put her nose in the air, and, in a show of Gryffindor bravery, stepped forward to speak determinedly.

"It's no secret.. none of us want you lot in our houses, and you don't want to be there. So the ground rule of this temporary housing arrangement applies. But oh no! Ms. Highborn Pureblood apparently thinks our dormitory is her personal thrown room… and that she can just walk in, use whatever bed she wants, take up all the bookshelf space… and order us around like we're her house elves." The hufflepuff declared. There were appreciative sniggers from the crowd backing her.

"And what is the ground rule of this temporary housing arrangement?" Draco drawled dangerously. The hufflepuff gulped, but did not back down.

"They stick to their side and leave us alone." She bit out.

Stick to your side….leave us the hell alone…. The words Draco had yelled in anger came unbidden back to his mind, making his eyes widen and his lips part.

Elise' brows furrowed as she watched his reaction. Pansy, who was in the room with Millicent, stood up and made her way over to where Draco stood, apparently galvanized.

"It's alright." Pansy said, taking control of the situation. "Elise, I'll arrange for another bookshelf to be brought into the third year hufflepuff dormitory. As for the bedding arrangement, I know you don't like being close to the window, so perhaps we can get a book self large enough to block that part of the wall…" Elise smiled.

"Does anyone else have any problems?" Pansy glared around at the entire room. "You should talk to a prefect before you start yelling Ms. Jennings, if you used a little intelligence, you might be able to sort out your problems before reverting to embarrassing displays of emotion." Pansy snapped at the Hufflepuff, who had the grace enough to look abashed.

"I like that window." Ms. Jennings replied quietly. "Just cause she wants to live in something like a dungeon… sun light is good for you."

"Then you can sleep next to the sodding window!" Elise snapped.

Draco snorted before Pansy could retort. She turned to look at him intently, her brow creasing with worry.

"Jennings… did you know that windows break when you throw things at them…" Draco asked quietly. His voice was so soft it gave everyone in the room chills.

"Cunning observation…" The cheeky thirteen year old replied.

"If you were sleeping next to a window, and woke up covered in glass shards… would you ever want to sleep next to one again?" Draco asked, just as lightly.

"Malfoy!" Pansy snapped at him. Elise's face was a shadow of a tortured past.

Draco stepped forward and put a hand on the younger girl's shoulder. She jumped slightly.

"I didn't…" Jennings began, looking extremely abashed.

"You didn't… what? You didn't ask why she doesn't like windows? You assumed we were all evil megalomaniacs who enjoy sleeping in dark holes and keeping pet snakes?" He was back to his normal drawl.

"Hypocrite!" Jennings snapped back, it was easier to hate a sneering-Draco, than a quiet-angry Draco. "Accuse us of keeping stereotypes when you lot hate muggles and muggle-borns.. .and for what?" Draco snorted, still rubbing Elise' shoulder like a big brother as silent tears streamed down her face.

"You didn't ask what broke the window did you?" Jennings paled. "You walked right into that, you know. Yes, Muggle children broke the window in an attempt to punish the weird girl on the block." Elise stifled a sob.

"Muggles can't understand us… ever. Nor can we understand them. Every muggleborn allowed to know about our world is one more risk to the exposure of our world. Or do you think we should be exposed, Jennings?" He asked, his voice back to being soft and dangerous. "I asked you a question." He snapped in a perfect impression of Snape's hissing whisper.

"My Parents are muggles." She whispered back, her eyes down cast. "It wasn't a mistake to tell them… It wasn't a mistake to let me in."

"I suppose your friends are muggles too… did you ever try to tell them?" The look on her face was response enough. "Ah, that's a normal thing for muggle-borns to do, I suppose they didn't take it well. Let me tell you something, my parents were raised with stories of the boshin witch hunts of the 1900's…. If we were exposed, I expect the same would happen today, and do you know why?" She didn't respond.

"Because muggles think just like you Jennings… they'll accept what they've heard in rumors, and never question their own beliefs… they'll act out with aggression before trying to sort out the situation with civility." The hufflepuff looked on the verge of tears.

"Draco…." Pansy began.

"Maybe we do deserve it Jennings…" Draco told the Hufflepuff. "Maybe the whole lot of us are evil, in truth. It's apparent this is an issue that cannot be resolved with a bookshelf… No it's deeper than that…. We haven't just lost our dorm, we've lost our pride. That's why Elise and I are standing here, trying to make you understand instead of sticking to our side of the room and leaving you alone. Displacement does strange things to people." He meant it in more ways than anyone could understand. Draco took a breath and his eyes sought a familiar face in the room.

She was looking at him, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly ajar, like she'd never seen anything like him.

"Granger." He said, after their eyes met. He took another deep breath. "I'm calling in my favor."