Disclaimer: I don't—ah, screw it. Anyone want chocolate instead?
15. I am not allowed to use my authority as a prefect to 'confiscate' my classmates' things just because I think they should be mine.
16. I am not allowed to eat my housemate's sweets and blame in on Goyle.
17. I am not allowed to kick people even if I think they deserve it.
18. I am not allowed to tell first years there are free unicorn rides being giving away in the Forbidden Forest.
Tuesday, December 3rd
Hospital Wing
Beds #14 and #15
8:30 AM
Seamus Finnegan thought everything was funny.
So of course, this was no exception. He was sitting in the plush crimson armchair next to Harry Potter's bed in the Hospital Wing, and grinning inanely as he looked around.
"So, Harry," he began seriously, and trying desperately not to look at the Gryffindor. "Maybe they should just name this whole thing after you, eh? You're in here enough!"
"Seamus, I swear to freaking Merlin I'll—"
"—and look, someone's left you flowers! Oh, wait, that was 'Mione…hmm, you know where she and Ron are now? Maybe in the library…"
"—truss you up by your feet and hex you silly and sideways!"
"Snogging! Maybe they're snogging." Seamus wrinkled his nose and turned to Harry; his first and last mistake. "Oh—oh—oh—Merlin!" And the Irish boy collapsed into apoplectic laughter.
Harry scowled darkly. Wrapped around his head was what Seamus had brilliantly designated 'The Quirrel'. It was just a swathe of bandages Pomfrey had made him wear, as his head had suffered a rather nasty crack and he'd only woken up a few hours ago. Seamus had decided the turban-looking thing was hilarious, and made sure Harry knew it.
"Finnegan, you wouldn't mind dying anytime soon, now would you?"
Harry looked up, and his scowl deepened somewhat. Here was the cause of this Torture-By-Seamus; Draco Malfoy. Of course, what with him being soft and all, Harry couldn't stay mad as he watched Draco Malfoy hop towards his own bed, supported only by crutches. Madame Pomfrey, watching icy-eyed as the Slytherin had been brought into the Hospital Wing, had just happened to forget the spell that would make the bones set in their own place. Of course, so had everyone else who knew it.
"Oh, but it's the—the Quirrel, Malfoy!" Seamus, being Seamus, was the only Gryffindor who probably didn't care about anything or anyone being in other Houses, as long as they were hot. And Draco, being Draco, was.
Draco rolled his eyes and sat down on the edge of his bed, glaring spitefully at the clean white cast that was encompassing most of his foot. "This is all your fault, Potter," he growled.
Harry looked scandalized. "My fault? Malfoy, who charmed the portrait? Who has a psychotic best friend?"
Draco smirked. "Maybe the former was me, but are you so sure about the latter?"
They both glanced at Seamus, who was still laughing. Harry frowned. "Let's say he doesn't count. Where's your friend, anyway?" Draco glared at him.
"Where're yours?" he shot back. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Where have you been, Draco?" Seamus said suddenly. Apparently, he had grown tired of making fun of Harry's turban-thing. "You've been gone since a little after Harry-Beary woke up, I saw the professors talking to you before that. Is there something going on?"
"Finnegan. Shut. Up."
But Harry was now curious. "Yeah, Malfoy, what's going on? You aren't supposed to leave the Hospital Wing until tomorrow!" But Draco stayed tight-lipped.
Seamus, then, being Seamus, decided to do something.
He all but sprinted over to Draco's bed, and as the Slytherin watched in obvious shock, he took up his wand and muttered something. By the time Draco had finally gotten enough sense back to pull his foot up, written in some sort of flashing, sparkly pink and glittery colors were the words "Draco + Harry TRUE LOVE 4EVAH!"
"Potter!" Draco yelled. "What is wrong with him! Can you see this?" And he pushed Seamus away, flashing his cast indignantly. "Make him take it off!"
And if it wasn't enough that Draco Malfoy had sparkly pink writing covering the length of his whole leg, the fact that he was whining and nearly begging to Harry made it all the more unbearable. He smiled, and after a moment of slight shock, Seamus joined in.
Draco looked back and forth between the two and groaned as he attempted to suffocate himself with his pillow.
9:00 AM
Still In Hospital Wing
Minus Seamus
"Hey, Malfoy?"
Draco, who was propped up against his pillows and reading (How To Hex Him Horribly, by Erie Queerie). He looked at Harry with a less than friendly look on his face before returning to his book.
"What, Potter?"
Madame Pomfrey had come in earlier, and much to Seamus' dissapointmet, immediately kicked him out and removed the Quirrel. Now all that was left on Harry's head was a standard wrapping, looking much like a headband. Harry kept rubbing at it consciously, and Draco in turn kept glaring at him. Harry had finally stopped, and thus a period of silence, until his question.
"Where were you really? This morning, I mean."
Draco sighed, closed the book, and kneaded at his forehead. He had another headache. Like, really. And suddenly, he wished he wasn't in the same room as Harry anymore.
"You really want to know, Potter? Fine. I'm getting—" here he grimaced, and sighed. "—Glasses. Pomfrey says I need them else my eyes will end up getting worse. I can start magically repairing them after I've worn the glasses for a few months or so."
Draco kept his eyes on the book, very much aware that even if he attempted to read it he'd end up attempting to squint again. Fortunately, all Harry did was utter a small 'oh'. Draco, surprised at this reaction, looked up.
Green eyes met silver, and Harry said, very solemnly: "Hey, now you'll look just like me!"
Draco cursed. "Way to go, Potter, you've ruined another moment."
"But now you can't call me four-eyes!" Harry seemed to be secretly thrilled, although he hid it well. "And wait until I tell Ron and Hermione!" He got a misty-eyed look as though he was imagining Draco's demise, and Draco swung his legs over the edge of the bed, looking mournful.
"Potter…can I tell you something?"
Harry, shocked at the rapid mood change, sat up and stepped gingerly off the bed and onto the floor. "Er…what's up?" Draco looked around, eyes wide.
"I'd rather not say it so loudly, if I could help it."
Harry, now genuinely curious, stood and walked over to Draco's bed, and then leaned a little closer. "Yeah?" He only blinked in confusion when a wide grin unfurled at the corners of Draco's mouth.
"Malfoy, wh—OW!" Harry jumped back, holding onto his throbbing shin with eyes half-closed in pain. "What was that for?"
Draco, now happy that his revenge had been exacted, patted the cast happily. "Looks like this thing has some good uses after all…"
Harry merely glared.
9:30 AM
STILL in Hospital Wing
Albeit, Healer's Room
Draco sulked as he sat in the straight-backed chair once more, glaring across the desk to the woman who was still smiling that scarily sweet smile (A/N: Hoorah for alliteration!)
He noticed this time, her plaque was turned towards him, and realized he'd never known her first name. There, engraved in the gold plaque were the words Ivanna C. London.
"I.C. London?" Draco asked incredulously, forgetting his discomfort for a moment. "Your initials are I.C. London?"
His Mindstreamer glared irately at him, her smile slipping for a moment. "Yes, and before I was married the initials were I.C. Caucus. We're getting off topic, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco, who was storing this information away for a later date nodded. "You called me in here? I was just about to sleep, you know."
"According to the nurse, you and Mr. Potter were attempting to tear each other's guts out." She sighed. "Did I not proposition you one of the greatest deals you have ever heard, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Potter's my enemy!" Draco said indignantly. "I warned you of that way before!"
Ivanna rolled her eyes. "So I've heard. But I did hear from Severus that a Seamus Finnegan went skipping into his classroom, proclaiming that 'Draco Malfoy made Harry smile!' Is this true?"
Draco thought back to the writing on his cast and what had happened. "Yes. Finnegan wrote something on my cast and I was upset and acted—er, the point is, yeah, I suppose I did make him smile."
"And what was written on this cast?" Ivanna asked.
"Aren't we supposed to be discussing what I'm supposed to do?" Draco asked irritably, skirting the subject as subtly as he could.
"Of course!" Ivanna said brightly, and her eyelashes fluttered. "But I've just had a brain spasm!"
"Does this mean you'll die?" Draco asked with barely hidden excitement.
"No! But Mr. Malfoy, think of the possibilities! Obviously, seeing as what Mr. Finnegan wrote was a direct attack upon Harry himself—"
"You knew!"
"—Then you must do the same!" His Mindstreamer continued as though she hadn't heard him. "Do something that attacks him directly!"
"Can I Avada him?"
"But in a gentle way. And please, Mr. Malfoy, consider this; I was talking to Harry in his last session a few days ago, and he told me something very interesting about you."
Draco quiets for a moment, and she smiles at him, but the smile is very close to being kind this time. "He says that he doesn't believe you're totally evil; if someone gave you a chance, he said he was sure they'd find something good buried down there."
Draco was silent as she waited, and then he looked down at his cast-encased foot. Harry Potter, his arch-nemesis, had said that about him? She had to be lying—there was just now way—damn Potter, and all his Gryffindor honor.
"Now, how about we go out and give it another try, eh?"
Draco swept out of the room as best as he could on the crutches, vaguely feeling as though someone had punched him in his stomach.
Wednesday, December 4th6:55 AM
Slytherin Common Rooms
Draco sat on a couch in the Common room, his good leg curled under him as he reclined against the back of the couch. His mind was fast at work, and as he chewed slowly on one of the chocolates he'd found in a box on the table in front of him, his mind slowly began to form a plan.
"Oi, Dr—is that my candy?" Theodore Nott plodded down the stairs. "I was saving that!" the blonde Slytherin blinked as he turned to stare at Nott.
"No, I am not eating your candy. Goyle ate most of it. I merely had second pickings."
Theodore didn't seem as though he believed it, but he sighed and rolled his eyes anyways as he swiped his chocolate from off the table, collapsing next to Draco. He twisted the slim silver ring on his finger as he contemplated something, completely ignoring Draco's glare.
"Are you leaving anytime soon?" Draco asked finally.
"Nope."
"Dying, then?"
"Nope."
"I could make it come sooner than you think."
Theodore laughed and tapped Draco's cheek insolently, using the metal of the ring to emphasize the move. "Come on, now, Draco. I know you wouldn't hurt me."
"Give me the ring."
"What?" Theodore recoiled, and then chuckled nervously. "Great joke. Come on, it's seven and breakfast is starting. Blaise is off in another House; he was meeting Joan from Ravenclaw today. I'm supposed to help you down."
Draco rolled his eyes. "I don't need any help. As a prefect, I'm confiscating your things. Hand them over, now. And twenty points from Slytherin because I don't like you right now."
Theodore, looking red in the face, removed the ring and dropped it in Draco's outstretched palm. "You—are a very evil person Draco Malfoy." And he stomped off, presumably to breakfast.
"You too, luv!" Draco called after him. He fingered the ring, and then pocketed it. No need to wear something that might make him seem conceited. Jewelry tended to do that often.
"Draco! Need help?"
He looked up and found one of the sixth years, Malcolm Baddock, grinning at him. Draco reminded himself that this was the same crazy Malcolm Baddock that had managed to drive Snape so mad that no matter how bad he got, Snape refused to assign Malcolm detentions with him. This was also the same Baddock that, despite earlier suspicions, was dating Ginny Weasley and truly seemed to like her.
"Promise you won't kill me?"
"I can't say anything. If the urge should strike…"
Draco rolled his eyes and stood, albeit a little shakily, and grabbed his crutches. "Get my knapsack and walk with me. Don't touch anything inside—BADDOCK!"
Malcolm was already rummaging through it. Draco surreptitiously fingered his wand, and muttered a spell under his breath. He watched in satisfaction as Malcolm's hair turned a delightful shade of shocking pink, and grew distinct breasts. Malcolm didn't notice, and he motioned for Draco to follow him as they headed past the entrance.
"Oi, Baddock! Wanna spend a night with me?"
Why I love Hogwarts, Draco smiled.
At least twenty feet from Great Hall7:25 AM
The assorted first years watched in curiosity as Draco Malfoy limped down the hallway, cursing avidly. He was using the wall for support, as both his crutches seemed to have magically—disappeared. Although, considering this was Hogwarts after all…
"Mr. Malfoy?" One of the Gryffindor first years asks tentatively. He and the others around him were told to wait and laugh by some others coming this way; they said entertainment was heading over here.
Draco looked up, and all of them quailed under his intense gaze. "What?"
"We were—we were—they told us something funny was coming down here!" Said a Slytherin, suddenly confident that Draco wouldn't hurt one of his own.
The little Slytherin girl was soon proved wrong, however, as Draco's face twisted and he glared at her with deep loathing. Suddenly, his face softened, and he motioned for her to come closer.
"Here, help me to the doors and I'll tell you what the secret is." The first years missed the calculating look on his face as they all hurried to let him lean on them. They chattered in excitement, much to his annoyance, but when he was at the door he leaned against it, and smirked calmly at them.
"Now, I'm not supposed to tell you this, but there are free unicorn rides being given away in the middle of the Forbidden Forest."
Several of them squealed, but one Ravenclaw with red hair that reminded Draco of a Weasley held up his hand. "We're not supposed to go near there! Professor Dumbledore said so."
"Well, now he's changed his mind."
"But wouldn't he tell us?"
Draco was rapidly losing his patience. "Well, someone overrode his decision who's more powerful than him and has decided that you all can go."
"Oh yeah?" the Ravenclaw replied. "Who's that?"
Draco muttered something that sounded a lot like bloody Ravenclaws, thinking they're better because of their stupid common room and wished that when Malcolm had taken his stuff, he had neglected to take Draco's wand too. Thankfully, a dreamy-eyed Gryffindor answers for him.
"Shame on you, Thomas!" she says, her dark hair whipping round her face. "Of course it would be Harry Potter!" The other first years nod encouragingly, and she looks adoringly up at Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, my name is Zoë Zabini."
Draco's heart skipped a beat. "No relation to Blaise Zabini?" he asked wearily.
"Oh, of course yes!" Zoë nodded. "He's my older cousin! And his sister's my other older cousin! And my twin Zack is here too, he's in Slytherin, though."
"Oh, my God, isn't your family starting to outnumber the Weasleys?" Draco groaned. Zoë either ignored him or didn't hear him. Instead she threw her arms wide, eyes twinkling.
"Go! I'll catch up with you all later! Come on, to the Forbidden Forest!" As they all dispersed quickly, Zoë turned back to Draco and offered him an impish wink.
"Oh, and Cousin Blaise says that you're going to be really busy for a while, so you won't see us around for a long time."
"What?"
She coughed lightly, and blushed. "Er…he said something about Harry Potter and you, but you know how he is!" She took off running, calling a good-bye behind her.
Draco allowed himself one moment to consider the possibilities of that sentence, what she was implying and what he was suddenly very much aching to do—
But then he turned to the doors, flung them open, nearly falling over as he did so. But he just happened to crash into one very surprised Harry Potter, who seemed to be blocked by the one person Draco was itching to maul at the moment.
Harry instinctively caught Draco, holding onto him and wrapping his arms around the Slytherin's midriff as he bent his knees to support their weight. A heavy silence fell in the hall, and Draco's cheeks tinged pink as Harry rapidly pulled him up so he could stand on his own, and he turned.
And endless sea of eyes stared back at him, and Draco blinked a moment before becoming furious. He turned, and searched out the form of his best friend, who just happened to be hiding behind the laughing Malcolm Baddock. His crutches were leaning against Malcolm's thigh.
"BLAISE ZABINI!"
And the laughing stopped.
Grrr...upset with myself. Cannot find any inspiration whatsoever to get off my lazy arse and type. Lifeblood might go on an official hiatus, as well as Objective and Overshadowing Padders is just WAY beyond me. I've ditched my Sailor Moon fics, and I feeel terrible because I was starting to have a fan following there. And ALICIA BLADE reviewed one of my fics. I remember feeling particularly enthralled when I heard that.
Ok. I suppose now I'm just ranting because I'm so utterly lost and I actually spent a WEEK working on this chapter. And it still sucks. What's going on with me?
Bonzai and luff to: ronslilprincess, shannan, iread2much, jamaloo (Yes, I'd like to think that I - er, Draco that is, is quite a smartwit when it comes down to it. BTW, thanks so much for the reviews. Seeing you review Sonno made me go "Lackwit! Ye've still got to post stuff up!" So be recognized.) AnGeLoFmErCeY94, MidnightsRose, TeenageGemini, dark-angel905, and mayfaire.