Ok yay! So I got 8 reviews….well, 7, one was a fake review, so I think Ill say thank you, cause that's a nice thing to do:
Emerald Raven: there you go, more. Hope it wasn't anything important that was burning….
Okane: your wish is my command, here's some more.
TheAlmightykat: your mean, at least read before you flame, then you'd have some REAL ammo.
CDW: here is some more, and yes, Draco is amusing, God bless sarcasm.
Chloe: I recived no txt! Yep long time no see, cause you have apparently decided that MSN is evil and havnt been on in ages…
Mis-HD: I'm glad you likey, Harry will arse kick but much much later, probably chapter 10….maybe…
Skarla: read my profile, there's your answer, yes I'm back, I needed to go off and grow up a bit, that's all.
Shootingoftheobcene: damn you have a long name! Glad you liked it, here's some more unique-y goodness (iv never before been called unique, hehe!)
Forever black eyed
"OI! MALFOY!"
Draco turned around, and his blood froze, striding towards him were five enormous seventh year Slytherin males, all looking ready to kill and out for Blood, his instincts told him to run, but unfortunately he'd never been very in tune with his instincts.
"What?" he called back to the boy in the lead, his Quidditch captain, Roy Anderson.
"A word, boy" he growled menacingly. By this time Draco was surrounded, and he was beginning to feel more than a little panicky. Anderson strode forward and took him by the throat, squeezing down a little to show he meant business. "Listen to me, you little fag, you ever give a little display like this morning again and you won't be able to rest until you're six feet under." Draco tried to swallow, but couldn't because of the hand trapping his airways. "Now, you're going to say you're sorry, and you're going to do it on your knees."
"No" he managed to gasp, Anderson's eyes flashed, and then the stronger boy rammed Draco into the corridor wall.
"What was that, Malfoy?"
"No, I won't apologise, not to you, not to anyone, Malfoy's don't apologise."
Anderson brought his fist up to Draco's face for the second time that day, only this time he was struck, and received a nasty blow to the head. Draco cried out a little, and Anderson smiled, "I hope you can take a lot of pain, Mr. Malfoy." he whispered into Draco's ear before dragging him into a near by classroom and throwing him to the cold stone floor. The other Slytherins circled and began to deal it out as well, one kicked him so hard in the stomach Draco swore he felt one of his ribs break.
Well, he thought grimly, it's a new experience to say the least, if not a very nice one.
"Now, are you ready to say you're sorry?"
"Yes" he moaned, he was in so much pain. This was worse than at home, or when he fell off his broom when he was eight. He was dragged over to Anderson's feet and forced to kneel up, his head was bowed, more because his head was heavy due to all the blows he'd received than anything else, when he began to speak.
"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry," he began. Then something inside him snapped, he was sick of this, sure, in a fight he wouldn't win, but he could be a fantastic runner up when he tried, he looked up straight up into Anderson's dark brown eyes, "I'm sorry I didn't realise what a loser you are earlier, I'm sorry I followed you around last year like a puppy, hoping you would notice me." He took a breath, and managed to get to his feet. "I'm sorry you've got such a big problem with me, I'm sorry you're a chauvinistic pig, a bigot, a racist and homophobic. I'm sorry you're mother never had an abortion, I'm sorry you're so lonely and unhappy with your life you have to take it out on kids like me."
Anderson uppercut him and he fell back down to the ground, he tasted the blood in his mouth, he saw Anderson's Nikes, and he spat.
Anderson's eyes narrowed, "That's sixty pounds worth of shoes down the drain."
"Watch as I weep for you." Draco growled up at him.
Anderson laughed cruelly "You are a sad, sad little boy Draco, at the end of the day you have nothing, no friends, no personality, you're not smart, I've seen your grades. You're not even that pretty, you've got no body to speak of, there's nothing going for you, nothing at all. You hide behind your fancy words and your clothes and your make up, but you cant fool me little one, because I've known you too long for that, night-night Drake, pleasant dreams."
Anderson left, followed by the rest of his goons, and Draco was left to his thoughts and his pain.
He looked bad.
Seriously bad.
There was no way that anything he wore could take people's eyes from the bruising on his face and the cut on his lip. But that was, all in all, the least of his worries.
He wasn't safe now, he'd always believe no matter how bad the taunts got and the kicks and the shoves, that they couldn't have done anything like that to him. The bruises, the cuts, and last night the broken rib, they hadn't done any lasting damage, but what Anderson had done to him, what his captain and once upon a time friend had said, that had hit him where it hurt. Anderson was right, he did know him too well, Anderson knew exactly how to press his buttons, so to speak, and it was killing him, he was insecure as it was. Never in his life had he been more humiliated than he was last night, being forced to his knees in front of him.
It could have been worse. But would it be that next time? He shuddered; he didn't want to think about next time either. At least he had had the courage to spit the blood out all over Anderson's new shoes, Nikes, expensive ones at that. He smiled bitterly, that had not really been a consolation to what they had done though had it?
And now he had to go to class like nothing was wrong, and put on a sense of cold calmness, and pretend not to notice everyone's stares and glares and murmurs, he was getting tired of it, so tired, there was almost no point getting up in the mornings.
But he did.
He relined his eyes and neatened them up, pulled on his dark school robes and laced up his boots, Draco gave himself a once over and smiled.
"Come Mr Malfoy, your public awaits!"
The whole hall turned when Malfoy had entered. Everyone knew what happened, though none new the details save the Slytherins. The other houses, though Malfoy was no ones favourite person, thought it had been unfair. There had been five against one, and Malfoy was not known to be the best built boy in the school, nor any good at fist fighting. He hadn't stood a chance.
Malfoy had stopped dead when he had seen the five boys at the table, everyone had half expected him to turn around and run right out again, but instead he stuck up his chin and marched right over to the Slytherin table. With one hand he grabbed a coffee pot and a mug, with the other he grabbed two chairs by their backs and took them all into the middle of the hall.
Everyone then watched as he transfigured one of the chairs into a table (Professor McGonagall nodded with approval but tried to cover it up with a cough) He then stood up on the table and began to speak, the Hall was so quiet he didn't even have to raise his voice.
"Now listen, I'm not the best public speaker but there is something I have to say, it is perfectly obvious to me that you all know what happened last night, and that is more fine by me, as now I don't have to string you all the 'I slipped in the shower' line, which is over used in prison movies as it is. This little table you see is now my table, and anyone else's if they care to join me, not looking directly at David Lorry or anything, though you have to bring your own coffee," he stopped to push his hair behind an ear then jumped down from his table, 'from now on I don't have a house, I am NOT a Slytherin. You may continue to eat and read your mail and/or paper."
He sat down at his table and closed his eyes for a brief moment, well, he'd covered the rest of the school, just the Slytherin to convince now, and by the looks on their face's they hadn't fallen for the I-don't-care approach.
Harry turned to Hermione "Well…"
"Yes."
They looked at each other uncertain; there had been a quiver in Malfoys voice that you could only pick up when you had been the boy's enemy for so many years.
Ron was laughing at something and they followed his eyes to where he was looking, it was David Lorry. He was skipping over to Malfoy holding another pot of coffee. When he got to he table he went down on his knees and held out the coffee to Malfoy who accepted it and pulled David onto his knee (causing mass hysteria at the Slytherin table and a few raised eyebrows elsewhere).
"Do you think they're...?"
"No" said Lavender from across the table, "well, maybe Malfoy, but David just happens to be amazingly camp and bouncy."
"How do you know?" Ron asked chewing thoughtfully.
Lavender blushed "Do I ask you about your private lives?" she snapped back, Ron just wiggled his eyebrows.
"Why Lavender, I had no idea! And here's me thinking you're still a-"
"Save it!" she turned back to her paper, Hermione snapped her fingers.
"That's what we need, pass us one of the papers," she flicked through it until she got to the back page, an there was Draco's new report:
Hello again
First of all I would like to apologise to 75 of the school, trust me that surprised me just as much, if not more, than you.
Also my apologies go out to one Ginny Weasly who kindly pointed out that she is not a trendy but in fact a HIPPY, and I should never have called her a trendy just because she wanted Molano's.
I'm writing this follow up report because apparently I was found out to be "funny" and people "liked" my writings, or so says David.
At last I am loved… Ha. Ha. Ha.
I'd also like to say that if Davey ever pats me on the head again I will have to lop off his arm, for this is very expensive hair.
Yes so by some miracle, as Draco Malfoy (a. k. a me) waved over to Harry Potter, the snitch flew into his hand (I am not kidding, it flew into my hand, I didn't even see it) at the precise moment he decided to give up the team.
Coincidence? You be the judge.
Bringing the scores to 160-200 yep, 40 points in it.
Once again I am writing this at the dinner table, am eating very little as I think my house "mates" may have poisoned my food, and I cant write on my desk as it is now covered in helpful notes from my "fellows" like
'Ya better not qit the taem or we'll do summit really bad to ya! Yeah!' or
'Yur pure gonna get it like!'
And I am just quaking in my one hundred and ten pound steel capped doctor martin boots.
Discovered something cool today, I can ice skate across the laminate flooring in my bedroom (I say laminate I mean retro floorboards, I say retro I mean that the school is too cheap to by me a carpet so they just polished the floorboards a bit, also note that I said bedroom, what I really mean to say is broom cupboard with window… I say window I mean hole with glass, I say hole I mean crack… and suddenly it sounds like I'm describing something completely different, bugger…no! Not bugger! Ah hell…) so now I don't even have to walk in the mornings! Result! It's great fun, a new sport if you will.
Ok, so what is the point of this, other to tell you about my own private little shack (I say shack I mean shed etc. etc.) again? Oh yeah! Quidditch. I have decided to quit the team as I feel I will never beat Potter, (am counting this one time as a very very funny accident) and that was why I took it up in the first place, to beat Potter. There is nothing elegant in Quidditch, and that doesn't work for me, I might take up broomstick ballet, I'd like to see anyone beat me at that! Ahha! Up yours!
My darling Slytherins are looking at me with contempt, why do I feel I'm going to go home and there will be a horse's head in my bed?
My dinner just winked at me.
I feel sick.
Yours,
D. Malfoy
They smiled; he was really quite a good writer, in his own sarcastic way.
"Come on, we better get to class," Hermione said fiddling with Ron's hair, "do you know what a brush is?"
"Yeah, it's that thing you use to have mock fencing fights."
She groaned exasperatedly and made for the door Ron and Harry followed.
"What have we got?"
"Potions."
"We've always got potions! What's going on?" Ron said wildly, Harry personally thought it a conspiracy against his sanity.
"Don't know, maybe there's potion exams coming up that'll effect our N. E. W. T's or something." Hermione said as they made their way down to the dungeons, "Malfoy's going to get hell this lesson, Snape wont be happy with him for leaving the Slytherins and the little David display."
"Yeah I know, bit odd wasn't it, unless they are going out, but Lavenders right, David's constantly chasing girls."
"Hmmm" she said, "but it is Malfoy, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind me saying he's very very pretty."
"You poor, poor girl. You're blind, aren't you?' said a voice behind them. They turned around and Malfoy was behind them smiling a little, "anyway Snape wont mind lil' ole me, we have an understanding." he nodded at them then strode past, "See you in class."
Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at his back in shock.
"Well," Ron said, "I don't think anybody expected that…"
Harry frowned, "Did we just have a small, meaningless almost casual sentence from Malfoy… as in, our Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, THE Malfoy, who has been the bane of my existence since first year?"
"It would seem like that yes." Hermione contemplated, "Come on, or we'll be late."
"Right class, as I said last week, we are to be working on a truth potion. Now, being sixth year I would like to believe you to be sensible and not ask foolish questions like 'who do you fancy?' and 'what did you and Mary really get up to behind the bike sheds?' however, I know this not to be the case." he paused, and looked scathingly around the class. We have bike sheds? Harry thought mildly, "which is why I am pairing you with people you don't really speak to and don't really like."
The class groaned, and Snape raised his eyebrows.
"Now here are your pairs;
Lavender Brown and Blazie ZebiniRon Weasley and Gregory Goyle,
Harry Potter and Mark Brooks
Dean Tomas and Vincent Crabbe
Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy"
Hermione turned to Ron and Harry and nodded. Harry tried not to smile; Hermione would be good at finding things out, she was subtle.
The potions master got to the end of his list and they all got up to swap seats. Hermione sat down Beside Malfoy who acknowledged her presence with a nod.
Hermione looked at the list of ingredient, on the list where some things that they needed and some things that they didn't, Malfoy saw her looking and leaned over to see the list.
"Don't worry, done it before, it's really quite easy."
Hermione opened her mouth as if to argue that making a truth potion was anything but easy but then remembered whom she was talking to, there was a good chance that Malfoy had been making truth potions since he was five years old.
"Now, I'm not that great at measuring, so if you can do the wolf's blood and the Unicorn tears I will love you with all my heart, but let me do the chanting ok? I don't have to read from the sheet so it'll go smoother."
Hermione looked at the bottom of the sheet, and sure enough there where some words that looked like they possibly could be Latin.
"Now, as some of you may have noticed, with truth potion there is a little chanting that goes with it, don't worry to much about that, all it does is make sure the potion takes hold and you cant fight it, you do not have to try this." Snape called across the class.
"Bugger," Malfoy whispered beside her, "and I did so want to tell you my deepest darkest secrets…"
"Which is?" she whispered back.
"I'm in fact not a rich pretty-boy from London, but actually a kitten rustler from Kentucky who likes to spend time alone with Mexicans."
"Oh right."
The next half-hour passed relatively quickly; apart from he fact Draco refused to go any were near the measuring of the liquids, and soon their potion was ready.
"Right, here we go, prepare to feel really giggly and warm Granger." Malfoy said before swallowing a ladle of the silver liquid, Hermione followed suit.
The truth potion was sickly sweet at first taste then turned horribly bitter on the tongue, she swallowed quickly, and as soon as it hit her stomach she felt the strangest feeling of well being. Malfoy obviously felt it too, because his eyes were half lidded and he had the smallest smile residing on his lips.
"My god this stuff's better than pot. So, Granger, what do you want to know?" he said a little sluggishly, leaning forward on the desk so they were face to face.
She had never looked into his eyes like this before, without the hate in them, and it was quite unnerving. His eyes were silver, not grey; they couldn't be described as grey, not only that but they were unreadable, completely and utterly unreadable, the eyes of the dead staring out from the face of an animate corpse. He was so pale; it was almost exotic in a way, with dark rings under the lined eyes from lack of sleep, his white hair falling into the dead eyes. The very image of a fallen Angel.
Hermione was, for once, stuck for words, she couldn't think of a single question to ask.
"Um… um, what's your middle name?" she said, for lack of things to say.
"My middle name? I have four, full title being Draco Marvelo Rupert Xavier Lucifer Malfoy, as you can see, my parents hate me, or at least my mother does, she only took it out on me because her name is Narcissa Claudine Hermantrude du Lillie."
"Du Lillie? She's French?"
"Oui, as is most of the family, where did you think Malfoy resided from? It was once pronounced Màlfoyé, but with the French revolution and all the nonsense surrounding that and the Malfoy family castle being in England it was discreetly changed."
"I had no idea there was so much history wrapped around you."
"There are many things you don't know about me." he said leaning back in his chair. Hermione, not knowing if it was the truth potion or the fact she had never spoken properly to him, found him fascinating.
"Malfoy family castle?"
"You expected anything less?" his left eyebrow shot up and he smiled a little.
"No, I suppose not, knowing you, you had to live somewhere impressive and out of the ordinary, tell me, is it on top of a cliff hanging over the sea, surrounded by mystery?"
"No, but it is in the middle of a small witching village twenty miles away from London surrounded by sheep." He grinned, "Now, little Miss Granger, tell me, what's your middle name?"
She blinked, middle name? Oh yeah, that's what had started off the questions.
"Its Rebecca, not that great I know, but its normal."
"Yup, what's life like as a muggle anyway? Is it just your mother and father that knows or?"
"Mum and dad, yeah, my cousins too, but that's about it, as for being a muggle in the summer holidays its alright, nice to get back to normality, if you know what I mean." She shrugged and realized before he said it that he probably had no idea what muggle life was.
"I wouldn't know, as I'm not a normal kid, my life's more screwy than even most wizards."
"How so?" she said innocently.
"Two words; Interspecies breeding." Draco laughed a little at the shock on Hermione's face.
Hermione frowned, "What?"
"Mother and Father, mother has somewhat… vampiric tendencies, and father's grandmother was a Veela, which sort of equals that I have devil child syndrome, note the pale complexion and fangs."
"Fangs?" she leaned forward, he opened his mouth wide, showing off perfect white, sparkling teeth, and he was right, his canines were all elongated with wicked sharp points and his eye teeth were slightly pointed as well.
"Mothers are better, we had a fight and she bit me, it scarred."
"Oh wow, can you draw blood?"
"Easy, wanna see? It's quite nice actually"
"No thank you, so are you happy with your life then, being so…different?"
He blinked a few times. He hadn't expected a question like that.
"No," he replied.
"Why, what's wrong with it?" that was it, Draco couldn't stop himself from telling her, he had mumbled the words as he had stirred the potion, he hadn't meant to, but it came naturally.
"Everyone wants me to be something I cant be, they ether want me to be perfect or they want me to be god awful so they can hate me with a clear conscience," Draco sighed, "I'm trapped between trying hard to please some and being deliberately nasty for others and I cant do it, GOD, why did you have to ask me that?" he couldn't understand it but he was so angry, she'd pushed him too far, 'Why do you always go out of your way to be so much better than me and show me up all the time? Why did you all judge me before you got to know me?"
"We didn't, you did!" she argued back.
"No, you don't get it, I didn't know any better. I honest to god thought it was alright to be like that, but you lot, you had love and friendship and you're all so smart, you three have everything! His eyes where almost watering with rage, but it was with more than just rage that he buried his face in his arms, to god, if he never drink another truth potion ever again it'd be too soon, he could feel Hermione's eyes on him.
"Don't cry, Draco," she said in what he thought to be a patronising voice.
"Cry, who's crying? It's not me! Malfoys don't cry! Do not be so stupid!" Draco snapped at her and luckily the bell rang right then. Draco grabbed his bag and left Hermione to tidy up. He started to run down the corridor, what right did she have to tell him not to cry! Just so she didn't get into trouble! Well, he wasn't crying, he doesn't cry, he never has and he never will! He hated her, he hated them all, if he was being too nice to them all of a sudden, well, it's about time they got to know how nasty he could be.
"He was so upset about it, I couldn't believe it, he has issues."
Hermione finished off, Ron shook his head and Harry frowned, there was something terribly wrong going on but he couldn't put a finger on it, it just didn't add up, Draco was bad, wasn't he? Since first year he'd been an arrogant little… what had changed that?
The boy in question was sitting cross-legged in front of the high table talking to Professor Snape and Dumbledore, both of them looking at him in amusement, Draco had worked himself up about something, you could tell because his already flamboyant hand actions had reached a new level. Harry shook his head, why were his eyes always drawn to Draco anyways?
Puberty sucks, he thought to himself.
"I just don't see how we cant have a Malfoy house, we were around during the founders time where we not? I don't want to stay with that lot, they're going to kill me, I swear it!"
"That may be right Mr. Malfoy, but we cannot simply make a new house because you've had a little problem with your housemates."
"A little problem? Did you not see the bruises! I'm going to wake up dead soon!"
"Draco calm yourself, we've given you a room on your own already, you have your little table, there's that boy from Ravenclaw sticking up for you, and the little redhead too, we cannot do anymore."
"But professor!"
"Discussion closed!"
The corridor was empty, what was he looking for? It was too dark to see anything, much too dark, he shuddered, the stone floor was damp and the walls covered with some sort of slime, the boy, and it was a boy wasn't it? At his side held his hand tighter.
"I'd lumos, but this place would be crawling in seconds, Drake."
The voice so familiar, so comforting.
"It's ok," he heard himself answer, "It's not that bad."
They walked on further quietly. From somewhere a drip was falling. They where going down that way. The other boy stopped him.
"Right, this is it, she's behind here, got your wand ready, are you ready?" he whispered.
"Yes, as I'll ever be."
"Right, NOW!"
They burst through a hard oak door, and there was his mother, dressed exquisitely in deep crimson robes that spilled over the floor, at her feet lay his father, head in arms, sitting curled up, welts down his back, he turned to the boy by his side, and recognised him instantly, shock seeped through him.
"Let him go Narcissa!" the boy called out to Draco's mother, she laughed, and shook her head, long golden curls spilling out everywhere.
"Cant do that I'm afraid Harry, and you've brought me my little Drake. How thoughtful, put him over there. I'll deal with him in a minute."
She turned back to Lucius and kicked him in the side, "Take one last look at your baby boy my darling, Avada-"
Draco woke up covered in sweat. He'd been there, he'd seen it all. He felt the heat fire in the grate, the tears running down his face, the grasp of Harry's hand in his. He knew that room. It was their dining room back at home, he knew those robes his mother wore, to hide the blood…
"Shit."
well, um, what can i say but... review review review! please? Ill give you candy?
love peace and sour skittles
Elendor
xx