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Chapter 3

From the other side of the room, Draco watched Hermione out of the corner of his eye. Her head was still buried in her book, as if she every second of her precious time had to be spent studying. More importantly, her head was still buried in her book as if he hadn't delivered his scathing comment at all! The fact that Hermione had been unprovoked by his snide comment had thrown him way off track. His remarks had never before gone unnoticed and unchallenged by Hermione. She never failed to turn her freckled nose up and deliver a scorching comeback. Until now. This silence was even worse than the time she slapped him. He still remembered the mixture of feelings that had swarmed in his head right after. That slap had caused his anger, pride, and shockingly, his libido to rise. This silence was disappointing. No. This silence was stunning. Yes. This silence was deafening. Something was wrong and he was going to find out exactly what it was. He wanted his sparring partner back.

Draco was startled out of his reverie as the professor began class.

"Alright, now how did the tea work out for everyone?" The professor inquired. A few mumbles and grumbles and excited whispers traveled through the room. "Would anyone like to share their future with the class?"

Just then Ron practically skipped into the room. "I would!" His obvious excitement caused the professor to forget to deduct points from Gryffindor for his tardiness. Neville, sitting in the front row, shrank back instinctively as Ron sailed past his desk, causing his papers to fly everywhere. Before Draco could congratulate Ron on making a mess, Ron blurted out, "I'm going to be a famous quidditch player on the Chudley Cannons!"

The room erupted into chaos. All of the Gryffindors cheered and swarmed around Ron to offer him their heartfelt congratulations. Draco heard Hermione exclaim, "That's great, Ron!" Right on cue, Neville began to whiz around the crowd, frantically snapping pictures of Ron's housemates patting him on the back. The Slytherins hissed and looked to their leader in hopes of inspiration on how to react. Never one to disappoint his house, Draco drawled loud enough to be heard through the shouts and cheers, "What? I'm surprised. No dreams of the bushy haired mudblood and a gaggle of your squibs?"

Hermione ducked her head and blushed madly. Maybe Malfoy didn't know.

Ron also blushed, turning as red as his hair. His embarrassment left him to open and close his mouth stupidly, like a dying fish. He wished he were dying. He wished he could apparate out of class. Anywhere would be preferable to here.

Harry took Hermione's bent head as a sign of distress. Ron was busy looking like a ripe tomato, so it fell on his shoulders to comfort her. Harry patted her shoulders awkwardly and shot Malfoy a dirty look. "Don't worry, Hermione! Just because Ron didn't dream of you doesn't mean that someday the two of you will… er…you know." He finished lamely. Harry didn't think it was possible, but Ron turned even redder. Realizing he was making things worse, he decided to attack the prat who put him in this uncomfortable position.

Facing Malfoy, Harry yelled, "At least he's not going to become a Death Eater like you will!"

Silence and tension spread throughout the room at the speed of light. The Slytherins tensed up to the point where they thought their muscles would snap. The Gryffindors took a collective breath in and waited for Malfoy's reply. Harry knew he had gone too far this time.

Draco had been waiting all day for this. He knew people would question what he had dreamed about. After all, what student in Hogwarts didn't want to gossip about this Slytherin sex God? His reply was smooth and silky, at complete odds with the atmosphere in the room. "Actually, the only thing that happened to me last night was I had to get up to take a long piss. That tea was something, eh?" With that, he playfully elbowed Goyle in the ribs to signify he had told a joke. The Slytherins all burst out in gales of forced laughter as they all inwardly sighed with relief. The Gryffindors shuffled about uncomfortably, wondering if they should be disappointed with how well Malfoy had handled the question.

Harry felt defeated.

Ron was still embarrassed.

Hermione felt like screaming. There was no way in Azkaban she was going to marry a Death Eater.

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