Part 2: The Slytherins
A/N: I had a difficult time persuading Crabbe and Goyle to Speak. Isnt that funny?
His eyes rested on his victim. "Pansy."
She kept eye contact with her fellow Slytherin. "Why don't you tell us the story of your first time. The whole story, just as you told it to me. Stand up, and tell the whole class how you popped your cherry."
Pansy glared, but stood up, her pug face calm despite her obvious embarrassment. "It was during our fourth year, during the first task of the tournament. Everyone was watching Harry with the horned tail, but Goyle and I had other things in mind. We were under the bleachers, which was foolish, and Snape caught us. Except he watched for a few minutes first, until Goyle was done. He kept his eyes on us, and I kept my eyes on him, and he was the one I was thinking of. Not Goyle."
Draco nodded with a smile, and went to the last chair next to Harry. "Gonna enjoy the show tonight?" he whispered to Harry.
"Fuck you, Malfoy."
"Right."
"Millicent Bullstrode," Pansy was saying, and the enormous girl stood up, looking as surly as ever.
"This should be interesting," Hermione muttered under her breath, just in Malfoy's earshot.
"What would you consider the best moment of your life," Pansy continued, "and why?"
Millicent kept her eyes on the back row of chairs. "Second year, when I got into that fight with Hermione Granger. It was the first and only time I got to feel the softness of her skin."
Malfoy chuckled at Hermione's gasp of surprise. "Better start watching yourself in the halls, Granger," he called from his seat two chairs over.
He couldn't help but grin as truths were being told, secrets revealed. Theodore Nott soon called out the name of his victim. "Gregory Goyle." Goyle stood, ready to do battle. "Well, this will be like questioning a sack of rocks. Gregory Goyle, what really happened to you last Halloween?"
Goyle shuffled his feet and looked around at the faces of the crowd. "I--um. Me mum. She wanted me home for my sister's tenth birthday party. I didn't really get drunk and buy a lot of hookers. She asked Dumbledore if I could go home for the night. Crabbe made up that hooker story for me."
"I have to admit," Harry said to Ron. "This is going to be one different night, that's for damn sure."
"Yep."
"So what are you going to ask me?"
"Dunno yet."
Draco turned his attention from his mortal enemy's conversation to Crabbe, who was ready to receive his question. "Vincent Crabbe," Goyle grumbled, his voice like gravel tumbling about his mouth. "What is the best grade you have ever received?"
Crabbe lowered his head in shame. "An E+ in Muggle Studies, four years ago." The entire room stared at him. "What? I liked the class on that television bloke, Jerry Springer." He had to wait for the laghter to die down before he could ask his question to the last Slytherin in the row, Blaise Zabini.
"Blaise Zabini. Are you a guy or a girl?" Any private conversations in the room ceased, and all eyes were on Blaise, who looked shocked.
"You want the truth?" Blaise asked quietly. "The truth is, I'm both. That's it. That's my secret. I am a hermaphrodite. Are you all happy now? That you get your own private freak show every day in the halls? Does that amuse you?"
Silence.
"Can we see?" It was Lavender shouting from the last row. Her fellow Gryffindors shushed her.
"That's it, you're dead." Blaise attempted to push through the crowd, but the path was blocked by a group of Hufflepuffs.
"That's quite enough," Draco shouted from the back. "No fighting. This ia peaceful ceremony. It's the rules. We're all friends here. Right mate?" He addressed the question more quietly, directly at Harry.
"Not likely," Harry muttered back at him, but he simply grinned. "Who's next?" he asked.
"I believe we are moving on to Hufflepuff," Draco replied.