Thanks to all of you that reviewed, and thank you all for continuing to read. I hope you continue to enjoy it.
Once again, I remind everyone that this is AU and has nothing to do with HBP. Any resemblance to situations in that book are odd coincidence.
Six weeks into the term, Ryselle came to the realization that the students were rapidly approaching the time where they would exceed her ability to continue teaching them. Part of it was due to the incredible determination they showed in learning, as well as a testament to Harry's ability as a leader to help them. She needed to find someone she could practice and learn from, as well as try out new spells she read about in the books her grandfather gave her.
She went to Headmaster Dumbledore, and to her dismay, he had a single recommendation for her. Severus Snape. She had no real idea what to think of the man, having been snubbed by him every time their paths crossed. He was hostile, rude, and made her angry like no one ever had. She got the feeling he disapproved of her for some reason, but was unwilling to confront him about it. Now she was in the awkward position of needing his help. She sighed. The fates worked in mysterious ways.
Ryselle hesitated at the door of the dungeon. She had observed a number of things about Hogwarts' Potions master, very little of it good. He was unfriendly and snide, with a healthy hatred of anything not Slytherin. However, the Headmaster recommended him unequivocally, and she trusted his judgment. According to Dumbledore, Snape had been trying to win the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher ever since he came to Hogwarts. He was quite good, said the older man, but there were reasons he was better in the position he was in now. The number one reason being his ability with Potions. Professor Snape apparently had a significant gift with creating magical elixirs and unguents.
That must be what made up for his deficiencies in the personality department.
Resolving to not be intimidated by the man, she raised her hand to knock on the door. Before she could move, it swung open and she narrowly avoided hitting the dark-haired man in the face.
"Oh! My apologies!" Ryselle snatched her hand back.
The man stepped back, glaring at her. "I presume there is something you need, Professor Spellsinger?"
"Uh…Yes. I… uh, had a request to make of you."
He frowned, stepping aside to let her in. "Very well. I believe I can spare a moment."
Ryselle walked in the room and looked around. She was fascinated by the variety of potions' ingredients and spell components she saw there.
"There was something you wanted?" Snape's harsh voice pulled her attention back to him.
She smiled. "Yes. I was just wondering if you might be willing to spare some of your time twice a week."
He raised an eyebrow.
"For practice. I need a dueling partner."
"Is there a specific reason you chose me for this glorious honor?"
She winced at the sarcasm in his voice. "Yes. Headmaster Dumbledore suggested I ask you. He says you are quite accomplished."
"Not accomplished enough, it seems," he muttered. He studied her. "Why not a student? Precious Potter, perhaps."
"I had not really considered it, Professor Snape. I would prefer to duel with someone that knows more than the average wizard. I am conducting a dueling club to work with the students."
"Hopefully it will be more successful than the last."
"I certainly intend for it to be. Your help would do a great deal toward accomplishing that."
"I see. Is anyone eligible to join this dueling club?"
"Of course. There is no prejudice in my classroom."
"Not even against Slytherin?"
She sighed, exasperated. "Professor Snape, you seem to be labouring under the delusion that I actually care about this house rivalry thing. In all honesty, I think it is stupid and pathetic. I do not care what house the students are in, I am here to teach them to defend themselves."
He looked taken aback. "Then you did not attend a school with Houses?"
She shook her head. "No. I was apprenticed to a wizard."
He seemed almost interested. "I see. Well then, I believe I might spare a bit of my time to practice with you, Professor Spellsinger. If you should wish some aid in your dueling club, feel free to ask for that as well." He opened the door. "Now if you will excuse me, I have things to attend to."
"Of course. Thank you, Professor." She took the hint and left, wondering what she had just gotten herself into.
"When is the first practice?"
She stopped, cursing herself for her absentmindedness. "Would Wednesday be good? We can work out a schedule then."
"Very well." The door closed behind her.
I guess that went well, she thought. Shaking her head, she went back to her rooms to settle down for the evening with a book and a nice cup of tea.
Two nights later, Severus Snape showed up clad in his usual dark robes and frown. Ryselle had set up a large dueling area in the practice room and was waiting for him to arrive. She got the feeling he would be offended if she were late. She smiled in greeting as he entered the room and headed his direction.
"Professor Snape. Thank you for coming."
He glowered at her. "Shall we begin?"
Her smile faded. "Sure. Standard rules?"
He gave a curt nod.
The two professors took their positions on the dueling mat, saluted each other and moved the proscribed distance. Both turned simultaneously, releasing their first spells.
"Macto Caecus!"
"Impedimentia!"
Ryselle was surprised as the Blinding Curse struck her. The last thing she saw was her curse strike Snape. Knowing that he would be slower now, she dodged aside and brandished her wand.
"Protego!" A golden shield appeared between her and Snape, deflecting his next curse.
"Petrifictus Totalus!"
Ryselle aimed for the sound of his voice, glad for once that Aechyrus had force her to train blindfolded. "Locomortor mortis!" She heard a thud as Snape's legs locked and he hit the ground. Using the sound as her target, she cast a final spell. "Petrifictus Totalus!"
She moved aside, hoping she succeeded in disabling the Potions master. A few moments passed, and no more curses were thrown. She pointed her wand at herself and muttered, "Reverti Conspicio." Her vision returned, and she walked over to Professor Snape. He lay on the ground, paralyzed, looking annoyed as always.
"Evervate."
Snape sat up, glowering at her. "That was not amusing."
She smiled. "Good job with the Blinding Curse, though. I was not expecting that."
"Few do." She held out her hand to help him up. He ignored it, grimacing as he rose. "I hate that blasted curse. How did you target me?"
"One of the things I did in my youth was train to target sounds while blindfolded. I was able to locate you after you cast your Paralyzation Curse."
He raised an eyebrow after that. "I see. Well, it appears you at least have a greater body of knowledge than the other teachers to hold this position. That is good."
"You have a good body of knowledge yourself, Professor. The Blinding Curse is not so common that everyone knows it."
"Nor is the countercurse. Why did you not restore your vision first?"
"Because I figured you would be ready for that and I did not want to open myself for an attack."
"So instead you protected yourself." He nodded. "Very good. I did not expect that response."
"Thank you for the practice, Professor Snape. It was most enlightening. Shall we give it another go?"
Snape frowned. "I suppose we should." He moved to assume a dueling position, and they began again.
Later that evening, Ryselle returned to her room a lot sorer than when she left it. When she had asked Severus Snape to be her dueling partner, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. He had a wide body of knowledge as extensive as her own. She was very impressed. He also had no qualms about using it to win. As it was, in the four duels they fought earlier in the evening, she lost one to him because he used a curse she was unfamiliar with and another because of his ruthlessness. She was delighted. The challenge stimulated her, as did the opportunity to learn a new spell. Afterwards they discussed the curse and countercurse. Ryselle reflected that any day one learned something new; it was not a wasted day.
But that didn't change the fact she was incredibly sore. Snape had used the Blasting Curse on her on three separate occasions, two of which resulted in her flying across the room. Fortunately, there was something she could do about that, so while she drew herself a bath she hummed the Gypsy Healing song to herself. By the time her bath was ready, her aches and bruises had faded to a tolerable level. She climbed in the bath and relaxed, reflecting on the events of the past few weeks and the things she had heard about from previous years.
It was obvious that last year was severely damaging to the students in more ways than one. Admittedly, the most visible was the students' lack of training in defending against the dark arts, but there were also issues of trust and confidence. Their first dueling club went far worse than she ever imagined, but after hearing about what happened at the Ministry and the school the year previous, a great deal of it made sense. Poor Harry. He was the focus of it all.
It seemed the "High Inquisitor" really had it out for the young Gryffindor, and spent the entire year doing her best to break his spirit. From what she had seen during the summer, she almost succeeded. She noticed the faint scars on his arms from where someone made him use one of those ruddy pens. It surprised her that the Ministry stood by and let one of their agents use a Dark Magic artifact. She supposed they thought the ends justified the means. After talking with some of the other professors, however, she was convinced it was more than that. It seemed as if the High Inquisitor had some personal vendetta against him.
As a matter of fact, Professor Snape seemed to suffer from a similar prejudice. She wondered at the cause. Sirius had mentioned to her that the dark Slytherin had a rivalry with the elder Potter in school, but surely the man had grown out of it by now. It was odd. From everything she heard, Harry was a good student, if a bit loose with the rules. Every time he broke the rules, however, he did so for a noble purpose. Without Harry, the "Dark Lord" would have achieved a great deal more than he currently had.
Being a Gypsy, she had a certain casual disregard for rules herself, so she did not see what the problem was. He defeated Voldemort his first year, rescued Ginny Weasley and prevented the Dark Lord's return his second year, held his own against Dementors his third year, and made a brilliant showing in the Triwizard Tournament his fourth year. He also survived a direct confrontation with Voldemort on the night he came back. All very impressive feats for a wizard his age. Of any age for that matter.
She admitted that Harry was one of the primary reasons she had pushed for the dueling club. He needed to be trained up as much as possible before his final confrontation with the Dark Lord, and he wasn't going to get that with the regular curriculum. Ryselle just hoped the Ministry didn't interfere. From their behaviour last year, very little would have surprised her. All the kids needed practice; especially with things being the way they were in the outside world. Unfortunately, it seemed the Ministry of Magic was still desperately pretending things were not as bad as they were, something that amazed her, but she didn't see why they would have a problem with the children learning how to defend themselves.
She sat back in the bath, allowing the hot water to soak away the remaining bruises. Harry still seemed afraid to ask her for help, and was obviously struggling through his evolution as a wizard by himself. Maybe if Sirius had been able to tell Harry about her the young man would feel more comfortable with her. But that had simply not been possible as long as Albus Dumbledore wanted her existence kept secret.
Things would have to change soon. She could sense the growing power within him and it was only a matter of time before something serious happened to spur him to confide either in her or the headmaster. Hopefully things would not be too serious.
Sirius. By the gods did she miss him. Being in this school was a constant reminder of what she'd lost and sometimes it was too much to bear. It was painful, but she doubted she had it as hard as poor Harry. The boy had pretty much no one but his friends now. Sirius had just begun to move into place as his surrogate father when he was taken from them. Tears welled in her eyes. She missed him so much. Grief stuck in her throat as she thought about all they had shared. She should have told him how she felt. At least then she would have the comfort of knowing he knew she loved him.
Bugger. She needed to stop wallowing in her grief.
Forcing her mind away from the handsome, dark-haired Gryffindor she'd come to love, her mind wandered for a short while, finally settling on the enigma that was Hogwarts' Potions teacher. Ryselle was confounded by him. He seemed incredibly unfriendly and distant, yet she sensed he had a great deal of caring for the school and its students. He fascinated her, she freely admitted, being such a contradiction. She wondered what the true Severus Snape was like. Hopefully as they continued their practices, he would loosen up a bit and she could find out who the person beneath the cold exterior was. She did not think he was so cold deep down.
She sighed as a wave of loneliness washed over her. For most of her life she had been in the virtually constant presence of her grandfather, Aechyrus. As a Gypsy, she was accustomed to social interaction. But it seemed the professors here were all very private people, having little interaction beyond the classroom. Minerva McGonagall was friendly to her, as were several of the other teachers, but none of them evidenced an interest in friendship outside of their professional lives. Ryselle secretly admitted she missed Sirius. He had spoiled her over the past year with his almost constant presence.
Ryselle frowned as she realized she was moving back into self-pity. She mentally slapped herself, and crawled out of the bath to get ready for bed. Picking up a new book on the Dark Arts, she prepared herself for a long evening of study. She needed it if she was going to keep up with Professor Snape.
The next morning started out very badly for Draco Malfoy. Somehow he overslept, making it impossible for him to get breakfast if he wanted to get to class on time. Admittedly, if he skipped his shower he could have grabbed something. But he wasn't a Weasley to go to class crusted with his own filth. In a ritual as old as he could remember he showered, dressed, and prepared for the day. Even skipping breakfast, he still barely made it to Transfiguration in time.
The morning was a blur culminating in a spectacular explosion in Potions caused by Neville Longbottom. Draco was impressed. It was the largest one yet. Fortunately Snape was able to warn the class to duck before any real damage was done. The best part was the loss of 25 points from Gryffindor. At the rate they were going, Slytherin might actually take back the cup this year.
Draco was smirking when he left Potions. The day had started out badly, but things seemed to be looking up. Unfortunately, when he got back to his room he realized he was mistaken. The owl on his bed was recognizable as his father's. The regal creature turned his nose up when Draco entered the room and imperiously held out his leg. The Slytherin prefect sighed in resignation and then pulled off the small scroll. Knowing he had to get it over with, since the owl wouldn't leave until he read the bloody thing, Draco opened the scroll.
Draco,
I am most disappointed to hear that you have not been fulfilling your duties as the leader of Slytherin this year. I have been told Thanos Acheron has moved to take your place. This is unacceptable. As the son of the right hand of the Dark Lord you have responsibilities to lead your fellow students. I expect a change in attitude immediately and a full report on what has been happening in that school. You will tell me everything you can about the new professor and any of the new students. You have one week.
Great, thought Draco. Bloody great. Now my father wants me to write a bleeding report on Professor Spellsinger and the transfer students. Draco was not amused. His father had no right to expect him to obey his orders when he was locked away by the Ministry. It would serve the bastard right if he turned the owl over to the Aurors. He affixed a steely eye on the creature and glared until the bird left. Let his father come get a response. Draco had better things left to do. Like get to his next class on time!
Draco grabbed his books and ran out the door. Despite all his efforts, however, he was still late to class.
"Mr. Malfoy. So good of you to join us. Please. Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable. I hope we have not disturbed your schedule." It was not often that Professor Spellsinger was sarcastic, but when she was, he thought she matched Snape for snideness.
"No, professor. I apologize." Draco was studiously ignoring the Weasley boy who seemed intent on grinning wide enough to swallow his own head. Briefly he wished it would happen.
"Now class. Today we are going to study the Patronus Charm." A few groans greeted the announcement. "Now, now. It is not so bad. The Patronus, while difficult at first, gets easier as you use it. Harry, you will be staying out of this exercise." There was some muttering at that, but a stern look from the professor silenced it.
"The Patronus is a spell that is almost entirely supported by the will. In all honesty, the wand is the least important part of it. The spell is controlled by the strength of the mind and driven by the emotion behind it. This is why one needs a happy memory to execute the Patronus. It manifests itself in a burst of positive energy. Hence it will drive off creatures like the Dementors."
"Professor? Are there other creatures the Patronus is useful against then?"
Ryselle nodded. "Yes, but they are very uncommon. Tonight you will be reading the chapter from Hieronius' Tretise on the Creatures of the Night. There is a list there and I have annotated the ones known to still exist. Most of them, interestingly enough, reside in the Americas and Asia." Ryselle waved her wand sending the scrolls flying to the students' desks. Draco picked his up and briefly glanced inside. It appeared the professor was thorough as usual. There was quite the list there.
"Now, I want everyone to get into a circle at the rear of the classroom. You will see a large iron box. Make sure you remain at least ten feet from it." She waited several moments for the students to take their places. As usual, things did not go easy. "Mr. Weasley, threatening to hex Mr. Goyle into next week is not going to help you perform this exercise better. Miss Parkinson, that sort of behaviour is unacceptable. 15 points from Slytherin for hexing Miss Granger. I trust you know the countercurse Hermione?" The green-faced Gryffindor nodded. "Good. Harry, you will remain outside the circle. No interference." Her stern look silenced his protest.
The professor moved through the classroom making sure there were no more incidents to mar their learning experience, and then cleared her throat for attention. The rest of the students were gathered at the back of the classroom and stood fearfully back from the large iron box. It looked heavy, engraved with arcane runes and was sealed with a very hefty padlock. The all wondered what was inside.
"Good. My instructions are simple. You will picture in your mind the happiest memory you have. When I give the order, prepare to cast the Patronus and I will open the box. You will succeed or fail this test based on your own strength of will. Understood?"
Ryselle waited for a few moments while the students composed themselves. She failed to notice Draco Malfoy's discomfort. As soon as she had announced they were learning the Patronus today, he knew he was in for a humiliating experience. He was tempted to take her aside and ask her to excuse him from the exercise as she had Potter. She imagined his exclusion had to do with the sheer number of terrible things the Gryffindor had seen. He doubted the professor wanted another fainting episode from her star pupil. It was almost ironic he and Potter had something like that in common. Draco still wracked his brain, trying to think of anything that could be construed as a positive memory. Maybe last year he would have thought watching the Gryffindor faint from seeing a Dementor would have done it, but this year he was a lot less interested in watching his nemesis suffer. Treating others badly, watching how his father treated his so-called friends, not to mention his son, were certainly not the things positive memories were made of. He honestly couldn't think of a blessed thing that would make him feel happy. Draco had just started to raise his hand when Ryselle flicked her wand at the box. "Effractum!"
With a thunderous clang the lid of the box flipped open, revealing something none of the students ever expected to see in the classroom – a Dementor. Briefly it occurred to Draco to wonder how Ryselle managed to gain control over one of the evil creatures, but then he became too busy to think as he felt the chill of despair and hopelessness wash over him. Neville Longbottom let out a sob as the evil creature drifted toward him. Harry tensed as the timid Gryffindor shrank back, ready to disregard his teacher's instructions if necessary. Suddenly, Neville got a resolute look on his face, refusing to be intimidated. He held his wand before him, eyes full of determination, and yelled at the top of his lungs "Expecto Patronum!" A thin shield of white energy poured out of his wand and interposed itself between him and the Dementor. Neville smiled at his success and was surprised when the shield coalesced into the wispy form of a snarling badger. The Dark creature backed away, avoiding the small animal. The misty defender grew even more solid when Neville felt another surge of joy from his success. He saw Harry smile and give him an encouraging gesture.
The creature shied away from the portly Gryffindor and moved toward one of the Slytherin students. Narrowing her eyes, she refused to be outdone by a Gryffindor. Her Patronus manifested itself as a wisp of smoke in the shape of a mink. Draco thought it oddly appropriate. While the Dementor moved from student to student, Draco continued to wrack his brain for a positive memory to use as the component of his Patronus. The creature came closer and closer, after being shoved away by the students with varying degrees of success. Even Weasley seemed capable of producing a semi-solid Patronus in the shape of a lion.
Then it was his turn.
The dark form of the Dementor drifted toward him, black tendrils floating in the nonexistent breeze. It grew colder, and he felt as if he were back in his father's study trying to explain his failure to beat Potter to the elder Malfoy. Images flashed through his mind of countless lectures and punishments and he felt paralyzed by fear and hopelessness.
His father stood before him, stern and unyielding. Pointing his wand toward his son, his features took on a sad cast. "I will not tolerate failure, Draco. You have disappointed me. You understand you must be punished. Crucio!"
Draco swayed, gripping his head as the Dementor loomed closer. Desolation filled him and he suddenly found himself not caring what the creature did to him. Distantly he heard a voice yelling, and felt himself fall. Quick footsteps were followed by someone placing something sweet in his mouth. The pressure on his mind eased, and then there was only blackness.
"Expecto Patronum!" Harry stepped forward, deciding this farce had gone on far enough. He wasn't sure what Professor Spellsinger was thinking when she brought that creature here, but he sure as hell wasn't going to allow it to continue terrorizing Malfoy. Couldn't she see he was freaking out? The familiar form of a stag leapt from Harry's wand and interposed itself between the wraith and the Slytherin prefect. It vanished with a shriek. Draco crumpled to the ground as Ryselle rushed over and knelt next to him. She quickly broke off a small piece of chocolate and placed it in the boy's mouth.
"Hermione, go get Professor Snape. Harry, take the rest of the students outside and finish the lesson. You will find the scroll on my desk. Everyone else go with Harry." She looked up. "Now!"
The students left quickly, chattering all the while about what happened. None of them ever expected to see Draco Malfoy pass out from a Dementor. Not when he had spent their third year mocking Harry about it. Hermione went the other direction in search of Professor Snape. She knew he would be in class and didn't relish being the one to interrupt. But she figured it was better her than Harry or Ron. Professor Spellsinger could always give her back the points he took away, but she hoped he would be reasonable.
With a feeling of trepidation, Hermione stopped in front of the Potions classroom. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff third-years were inside; studiously intent on whatever potion Snape was having them work on. She carefully turned the doorknob in hopes of disturbing the class as little as possible. Her hopes were dashed as Professor Snape's eagle eyes spied her sneaking in.
"Miss Granger. Twenty points from Gryffindor for interrupting my class. I do hope there is a reason for your actions."
"Uh, yes Professor. May I speak with you for a moment?" Why was she always so timid around him?
He frowned. "I believe after class would be more appropriate Miss Granger. Perhaps you should wait until then."
"Uh, Professor, it's uh, really important." She really needed to work on that. He senses fear, she heard Harry's voice tell her.
If anything, Snape's frown grew deeper. "Miss Granger…"
"Professor, it's really important. Professor Spellsinger sent me to get you, now please would you come with me to her classroom?" She wasn't sure who was more shocked at her audacity – her, Snape, or the other students.
"Very well, Miss Granger. You will stay here. I expect you are capable of watching over my class for a short while." She nodded. "Good. I will return. And I expect to see 20 light blue potions awaiting me." In a swirl of robes he was out the door.
Snape was not in the mood to deal with Ryselle's foolishness. Admittedly, he had agreed to be her dueling partner, but pulling him out of class was something that was simply too much. He had a few choice words for the woman when he got to her classroom. Not even pausing so much as to knock, he flung the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom open and swept in the room. He abruptly halted when he noticed the distinct lack of students. His eyes narrowed in anger. The nerve of the woman. He turned to leave when he heard his name being called.
"Severus?" He frowned at the usage of his first name. He looked around and saw her head sticking up from the back of the classroom. It looked like she was on the floor.
He strode over. "Professor, what the bloody hell are you doing on the…Draco? What has happened?"
"He passed out. I brought in a wraith to teach them the Patronus. Apparently he had some major difficulties with it."
"What the bloody hell were you thinking? A wraith? That's rather irresponsible of you, Professor."
She bristled defensively. "All right! I will freely admit I should have thought it out a bit more, but none of the other students had this difficulty, Severus. A wraith is not exactly a major embodiment of evil."
"It may not be a Dementor, but it mimics one quite nicely."
"That was the point. They need to learn to cast the Patronus under duress."
"And I suppose you were going to start flinging spells at them next?"
"It was a thought."
"Oh by Merlin! One would think you would be capable of exercising better judgment, Professor Spellsinger!"
"I apologize! This is how I was trained. I saw no harm in it."
"Well hopefully you have learned from this little fiasco."
"Yes, Severus, I will not bring another wraith in here until I am sure the students can handle it. But what should we do about Draco?"
"Why are you asking me?"
"Because you are his godfather and head of house. I would think you might know what would be best for him. I was honestly thinking of taking him to the infirmary."
"No! That would not be… appropriate. Mr. Malfoy cannot show that kind of weakness in front of his housemates."
"That is what I thought, but I imagine this episode will not look any better."
"Let us minimize the damage, please. I will take him…"
"Unh… what the bloody hell…" Draco's eyes widened as he saw the Potions professor standing nearby. Bugger. That was all he needed, his head of house witnessing his moment of ultimate weakness.
"Draco, are you all right?" Professor Spellsinger was hovering nearby, radiating concern.
His grey eyes met hers. "I'm fine, Professor. My apologies. I'm afraid I failed your little test due to my incredible lack of happy memories. Perhaps we could try something else?"
Ryselle looked as if someone had struck her. It never occurred to her Draco would not have a happy memory to use for the Patronus. She felt like a heel. "I am sorry, Draco, I…"
"Apologies are unnecessary, Professor Spellsinger," interrupted Snape. "A Slytherin does not need nor appreciate patronization in any form. Mr. Malfoy, I assume you are feeling better?"
"Uh, yes, Professor."
"Good. Then you will return to your room for the remainder of the day. I suggest you rest and study other methods to deal with Dementors. I would not wish to see another failure."
Ouch. "Yes, Professor." Draco got to his feet and left the room, refusing to look behind him. If he had, he would have seen his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor round on the scowling Potions master.
"How dare you say that to him, Severus Snape! He fails because of a life so horrible he cannot bring up a single fond memory and you have the audacity to take him to task for it? How can you do such a thing? To your own godson?"
Severus gazed coldly at the furious witch. She certainly is beautiful when she's angry, he thought. "For your information, Professor, failure is not something that is acceptable in Slytherin. For any reason. It was his responsibility to find a way to defeat the wraith. His past is insignificant."
"Insignificant my arse! How dare you say such a thing! You know as well as I do that the Patronus is the best defense against Dementors known to Wizardkind. Telling him to research other methods is simply setting him up for another failure. How can you do that to him?"
"Professor, you seem to be under the delusion that I ordered Mr. Malfoy to research ways to fight the Dementors. As he will someday join sides with his father, I imagine he will find very little need to fight them at all."
It took a moment for his implication to sink in.
"What? You will just stand by and watch while your godson dedicates himself to those hate-mongering murderers? That is low, Severus."
"It is not my choice, Professor Spellsinger! Draco's course was chosen for him from the time he was born. He has embraced that destiny. I have nothing to do with it. All I can do is encourage him to protect himself the best way I know how."
"And that includes telling him to figure out how to control Dementors?"
"If necessary, yes. He will be better off being prepared for the life he has been destined for, than the one you optimistically wish to give him. Your intentions are good but unfortunately misplaced. Good day!"
With a dramatic whirl of his robes, Professor Snape left the room, Ryselle staring stunned after him.
Draco returned to Slytherin in a foul mood, almost praying he would encounter someone he could take his temper out on. It appeared the fates were either being kind today, or cruel depending on one's perspective. Thanos Acheron was waiting for him in the Slytherin common room when he stormed in.
"Ah. The prodigal son returns. Tell me, Malfoy, how are things in dreamland?"
Draco's eyes grew cold and hard. "Bugger off, Acheron. I'm in no mood for your pathetic attempts at wit."
"Perhaps you would be in a better mood if you had not failed so miserably in class today. I was surprised to see you grow faint and pass out. I would have expected the great son of Lucius Malfoy to seize control of the Dementor and send it chasing after Potter."
"Too bad it wasn't a real Dementor, eh Thanos?" The realization came to Draco as soon as he awakened. Professor Spellsinger would never have brought a true Dementor into her classroom. It must have been a wraith. He remembered reading about them one summer when his father had ordered him to study a book on creatures of the Dark.
"Ah, I see you realized that. You do know that makes your failure all the more humiliating. Draco Malfoy. The great Slytherin prefect couldn't even stay on his feet in front of a fake Dementor." He snorted. "Some leader you are."
"And you are so much better, is that it?"
"Sometimes the truth hurts. At least I didn't pass out in front of the Gryffindors."
"Look, Thanos. Just because you have a pretty smile and pretty hair doesn't make you the leader of Slytherin. You have a long way to go before you understand what you're getting into. Besides, no one outside of this house even cares that you exist!"
"Like that matters, Malfoy."
"Oh it matters. You honestly think the Dark Lord is going to concentrate his attention only on the Slytherin alumni? You're a bigger idiot than I thought."
"Watch it, Malfoy. I'll kick your arse if you mess with me."
"I don't have to mess with you. You'll screw up on your own with no help from anyone else."
"I'm warning you, Malfoy."
"What? Are you going to hurt me? Bring it on, death-boy! You couldn't curse your way out of a paper bag."
"Oh, and what about you? You can't even take on a wraith without loosing it. And that doesn't even begin to include your sterling successes with Potter. I heard about the duel you fought with him."
"Ah yes, your last dueling effort was most impressive, wasn't it? I have to admit it had me on the edge of my seat for the whole ten seconds the duel lasted!"
"HA! Impotent fool. I'll show you!"
"Expelliarmus!" yelled Draco. Thanos' wand flew out of his hand, and his silver-haired adversary pointed at him. "Petrificus Totalus!" Seeing his foe helpless, Draco casually strolled over to the dropped wand. Picking it up, he said, "You might want to be more careful with this, Thanos. They're so very fragile." With a quick snap, he broke the wand it two. "If you want, ask Weasley to tell you how to fix it." He dropped it on the boy's chest.
Not even bothering to look back. Draco strode from the room, glaring at his returning housemates as he went by. None of them met his eyes.
Things did not improve for the silver-haired Slytherin during the rest of the week. He faced a great deal of ridicule for passing out in the presence of a wraith. And to his utter mortification, he found out the voice he had heard before losing consciousness was Potter driving away the "Dementor." The last thing he needed was to be saved by his chosen nemesis.
This morning was not going well either. The good part was that Draco finally managed to get Slytherin House off his back about the wraith, and Professor Spellsinger stepped in to chastise the Gryffindors for their behaviour. But that was the least of his problems. For the first time in over five years his potion did not work the way it was supposed to, and even Snape couldn't find a reason to give his star pupil points that morning. Malfoy knew the upcoming Defense Against the Dark Arts class was probably not going to be any better, and he was far more correct than he had ever imagined.
Draco Malfoy slowly followed the other students out the door. He had just experienced the most humiliating five minutes of his life. Considering the Patronus incident, that was saying a lot. Professor Spellsinger decided that their next quiz was to be a working one. She wanted them to prove their ability to defend against the Dark Arts. They were paired up, and each given a list of curses they were permitted to use. Draco, to his everlasting joy, was Harry Potter's partner. He had a feeling he was in for a long day.
It is not to say that the silver-haired Slytherin performed badly. No, it was more like Harry did extremely well. Even Draco had to admit the boy seemed to have a great deal of natural skill in defending against the Dark Arts. Makes sense, he thought, considering how many times Potter faced the Dark Lord. He wondered why the professor had put them together. Surely she knew how much they hated each other. Perhaps that is why, he speculated.
His thoughts were interrupted when someone stepped out in front of him. Draco stopped, and then looked at the boy irritably. "Get out of my way, Hadenthor."
The other Slytherin looked appraisingly at Draco. "Or what?"
"Or you'll regret it," he said quietly.
The boy laughed. "I'll believe that when I see it." He took a deep breath, expanding his chest in an effort to look menacing. Draco thought he looked ridiculous. "You can't even defend yourself against a moron like Thanos, Malfoy. What makes you think you'd do any better against me?"
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Because you're a bigger moron?"
His housemate snarled, and brandished his wand. "Serpensortia!" A large snake burst forth from his wand, headed straight for Draco. Before he could respond, he heard a voice down the corridor. "Mutatio!" The snake suddenly changed into a long purple scarf and fell to Draco's feet.
"Mr. Hadenthor!" Professor Spellsinger bellowed. "What is the meaning of this?"
Eric Hadenthor had the good grace to look ashamed. "Nothing, Professor. Malfoy and I were just…"
"Chatting? Well, Mr. Hadenthor most chats take place without the usage of wands and curses. Especially in this school. Put your wand away and meet me for Detention this evening. I believe we are going to have a 'chat.'"
Draco tried to hide his smirk.
"You find this amusing, Mr. Malfoy? Perhaps you would like in on the fun."
He shook his head. "No thank you, Professor. I think I've received enough of a beating today from Potter." He smiled slightly. "I appreciate the offer, though."
The professor hesitated, looking at him sternly for a moment, and then nodded. "Very well, Mr. Malfoy. You may go."
He gave a slight bow and left, smirking at Hadenthor's misfortune. If only it had been Thanos, he wished.
Late that evening, a sweaty and disheveled Eric returned to Slytherin. Draco looked up from his book, amusement evident. "Have fun did we?" he inquired.
Eric glared. "No. Being used for target practice is not my idea of fun!"
Draco laughed. "Well, I guess you better not hack her off again."
Eric marched over to Draco, hostility evident. Moving his face mere inches from Draco's, he snarled, "You're not number one around here anymore, Malfoy. Things are changing, and you better face the fact that you've been replaced. By the end of this year, you'll be just another has-been rolled over by the wheels of progress."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Really. And what would your reason be for this? Thanos Acheron is dating Pansy Parkinson? Come on, Eric. She'd date you if she thought you would enhance her reputation. She's the easiest girl in school, and bagging her is like bagging a Flobber worm – wet, annoying, and easy.
Or is it Thanos' incredible ability in the Dark Arts? HA! He wouldn't know the Dark Arts if they bit him in the arse. You actually think the Dark Lord is going to care about his pretty hair and face? Thanos Acheron is just another mindless lackey, destined to be Auror-fodder.
Or maybe it's his incredible popularity. I must admit, he is very well liked for someone so universally hated. Even Snape thinks he's an annoying git. He probably likes Potter better.
Then we can talk about his Quidditch skills…"
"Enough! I get the point. You might think on this, Draco. He may be all those things, but he also has the devotion of every girl and boy in Slytherin. And you are nothing."
Draco frowned. "Big loss. The only reason things have changed is because I don't care, Eric! I have better things to do with my time than babysit a bunch of mindless prats. I'm sick of it. If graduation came tomorrow, it wouldn't be too soon. I have better things to do with my time."
"Maybe, but I'm sure your father will be unhappy with the situation."
"So? He can bloody well kiss my arse!"
Eric looked shocked.
"The only thing my father cares about, Eric, is my ability to serve the Dark Lord. If he bitches too much about my reputation, then I'll do something. But until that time, leave me alone!" Draco abruptly got up from his chair and grabbed his book. Eric Hadenthor looked on in shock as Draco Malfoy left the Slytherin greatroom.
"I'll be damned."
The next afternoon, Draco Malfoy sat in the library, studying his latest Potions assignment. He knew it would not do to alienate Professor Snape if he wanted to continue to have the freedoms the man had always given him. Especially in light of yesterday morning's Potions disaster. His potion hadn't exploded, but the sickly orange sludge he produced did not make his head of house very pleased with him. He definitely did not need to alienate Snape. Motion attracted his attention as someone approached his table. He looked up slowly, a glare on his face as Eric Hadenthor and Nathan Bridger dropped down into the seats next to him. He had chosen this area of the library for its privacy knowing no one would dare bother him.
"What do you want," he demanded.
Eric grinned. "Just a bit of a chat, Draco."
Draco frowned at the other boy, "I'm not in the mood to chat, Eric."
"Well, I thought I'd just drop by and give you a bit of friendly advice."
"You? Give me advice? Don't be ridiculous."
Eric looked the Slytherin prefect up and down. "Draco, I must tell you that I'm concerned."
Draco's silvery eyes focused on his unwelcome guest. "Oh?"
"Yes. It seems a lot of people in Slytherin have lost their faith in you as the leader of our house. Even Professor Snape has been heard to doubt you. And after today's match with Gryffindor…"
"Did it ever occur to you that Potter played particularly well for a change and our team did not?"
Eric blinked in surprise. "I suggest you not allow anyone else to hear you say that, Draco. You don't want them to think Harry Potter is better than you, do you?"
"I don't bloody well care."
Eric smiled condescendingly, which only served to anger Malfoy more. "I'm sure you don't. But do your really want that peacock Acheron taking your place?"
"Like he could."
The dark-haired Slytherin shook his head. "He's already well on his way, Draco. First he took away your girlfriend…"
"Losing Pansy was no big loss."
"Now he's taking away your following…"
"Only spineless sheep follow that bleeding git."
Hadenthor smirked. "And now he's challenging your capability to lead us."
"As if he could do better."
"Perhaps not, but there are those who are convinced he should be given the chance."
Draco snorted. "Let him. I don't care. He'll blast himself in the foot without any help from me."
Eric leaned forward. "Look, Draco, there are those of us that are still loyal to you, but we can't keep blindly following someone who refuses to lead. You need to do something to prove that you still have what it takes to lead us."
"Like what?"
"Well, you need to replace your girlfriend, beat Thanos, and win back those following him. But it's not going to be easy. As it is, no girl in Slytherin is going to give you the time of day."
"Really? You are extremely mistaken, Eric. I can have any girl in this school I want."
Eric grinned. "You think? How about a little wager?"
"What?"
Nathan interrupted, "Eric, maybe we should not do this…"
"Do what?"
Cutting Nathan a glare, Eric responded. "Make a wager about your ability to win over any girl in the school."
Draco blinked. "You're kidding, right?"
He shook his head. "No I'm not. You see, I think this would be the perfect way for you to prove that you still have it. You convince any girl in the school, of my choosing let's say, to go to the Spring Ball with you and I'll help you get back control of Slytherin AND humiliate Thanos."
"And if I don't?"
"Are you saying you can't?"
Draco gave him a flat stare. "I will not make a wager on something if I don't know the conditions."
Eric smiled, nodding. "Right. Okay, if you fail, you have to go to Thanos and swear your loyalty to him. You have to do everything in your power to get him in with the Dark Lord, and you have to acknowledge he is the greatest Slytherin to ever live."
"Out of the question. Salazar Slytherin was the greatest."
"Okay, besides him."
"Or the Dark Lord."
"Okay, how about of the current house?"
Draco thought about it. I can do this, he thought. It would be a lot more pleasant than having to deal with Pansy and that git Thanos.
He nodded. "Okay, I can deal with those terms with one exception."
"Oh, what is it now?"
"No Mudbloods. The girl you choose must be a pureblood."
Eric laughed. "Fine. I wouldn't want you to sully yourself. Let's go hunting."
The two boys shook on it and stood up, leaving Nathan looking like he had just committed a mortal sin.
The three boys left the library and began looking around for likely candidates. It was obvious Eric Hadenthor took the idea of his bet with Draco very seriously. He strolled around the school with his fellow Slytherins, Draco and Nathan, in search of the perfect girl. Draco pointed out several possibilities, all of which Eric shot down for one reason or another. They had pursued the majority of the student body when he came across his candidate. Eric smirked. There would be no way Draco would ever be able to win the affections of this girl, and even if he did, it would destroy his reputation. Perfect, he thought.
Draco and Eric rounded the corner to see Ginny Weasley trip on the steps and fall, her books flying everywhere. A few of the students snickered, but stopped when she cut them a glare.
"Gentlemen, I believe we have our winner," said Eric.
Draco's eyes widened in shock. "No, Eric. Anyone but her. Hell, I'll win Pansy back from that bloody git first. But not her."
"Oh, what's the matter, Draco? Don't think you can do it?"
Draco grabbed the other boy and pushed him against the wall. "You don't seem to understand, Hadenthor. She's a Weasley. My father would disown me if he found out I dated a Weasley."
"I thought you said you didn't care what your father thought, Draco."
"I…" Draco hesitated. He had been looking for the perfect way to rebel against his family for the past several months. Dating a Weasley would do it, he thought. He smirked at the thought of his father's reaction. Besides, it will be a lot cheaper to pay her off than someone else. With a final shove, he let Eric go. "Fine. But no interference, Eric. Or I swear you will regret it." His eyes narrowed dangerously, boring into the other boy.
Eric nodded. He had no desire to be on Draco's bad side. Unlike Thanos, he still feared the Slytherin prefect. "Right. No problem. No interference. But she has to be your date to the Spring Ball. Your only date. Right up until the end."
"Fine."
Draco turned, and decided to try and go help the girl. They always like that, he thought. Rounding the corner he was greeted by the unpleasant spectacle of Harry Potter helping the Weasley girl pick up her books. As he watched, she smiled gratefully at him and continued on her way. Draco frowned. This is going to be harder than I thought.
Draco waited until Potter was out of sight before running after the Weasley girl. What is her name, he thought searching his memory. Gen…Gin..Ginny! That's it. Right. Ginny Weasley. He sped up until he caught up with her.
"Hey, Ginny!"
She whirled, books flying everywhere again. In a flash her wand was in her hand. Despite himself, Draco was impressed.
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
He held up his hands in surrender, slowly approaching her. "Uh, I thought we might chat about…Potions! Yeah, the latest Potions assignment."
Her face clearly indicated that she didn't believe him. "Get lost, Malfoy."
He smirked. "Make me. I don't see any of your big brothers or your boyfriend Potter around. I can do what I want."
Her eyes narrowed. "Don't fuck with me, Malfoy. I'm not as forgiving as my brothers. Or Harry." Her voice lowered menacingly, "Leave. Me. Alone."
His smirk grew wider. He was surprised at the profanity. The girl had spirit, he had to give her that. Most people in the school would be cowering in their boots at this point. "You still haven't given me any motivation to leave, Ginny," he said, moving closer.
"Expulsum!" she yelled, pointing her wand at him. Draco was completely unprepared for the attack and went flying.
"You'll pay for that, Weasley!" he yelled, pulling out his wand.
"Let's go, Ferret. I've been training for months with Harry to fight little Death Eater gits like you!"
His eyes grew cold as he picked himself up off the ground. "I'm not a Death Eater," he said in an emotionless voice.
"Mr. Malfoy! Miss Weasley! What is the meaning of this?"
Professor McGonagall strode quickly down the hallway to stand between the two.
"What is it with you students this year? I swear. Dueling in the hallways. 20 points from both your houses! Now, what happened here?" She turned to Ginny.
"He chased me down and refused to leave me alone when I told him to get lost."
McGonagall looked at Malfoy. "Mr. Malfoy?"
He nodded, smirking sardonically. "Yes, Professor. That's exactly it. I was stalking Weasley here when she defended herself. It's all my fault." His grey eyes never left Ginny.
Ginny spoke up, "Prof…"
"I don't care whose fault it is, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Weasley, the fact of the matter is that the both of you are in trouble for dueling. Detention for both of you. Tonight in my office at seven o'clock. Do not be late." She turned and quickly walked off, leaving the two students in her wake.
Ginny cut Draco an angry glare. "Thanks a lot, Ferret." She knelt to pick up her books.
Draco sauntered over, and knelt next to her, picking up some papers.
"Malfoy!"
Draco closed his eyes in annoyance. Potter. He turned to glare at the approaching Gryffindor.
"Yes, Potter?"
"Leave Ginny alone."
Draco sighed. This was going to be a LOT harder than he thought. He shoved the papers at Ginny. "Fine." He stood up and left, not looking back.
"What the bloody hell was that all about?" He heard Harry ask Ginny.
"I don't know, but I got detention out of it."
Draco stormed into the Slytherin common room, wryly observing that it was getting to be a habit. He wasn't hugely concerned, however. Acheron and Hadenthor were the only members of his house to show any signs of a backbone and neither of them was around to annoy him. He was almost sorry about that. He could definitely take some aggression out on the two bloody gits. Avoiding the urge to destroy something, he threw himself into a chair and began to seethe. He soon had the room all to himself as the few who were there left quickly after one look at his face. He looked livid. No one wanted to mess with Draco when he was mad.
How the bloody hell did I get myself into this, he demanded silently. Weasley. I have to win over Weasley. Bloody great. It will royally torque off my father, but no one in Slytherin will ever respect me again. I'm going to kill Eric Hadenthor.
The Slytherin prefect was well aware of why Eric chose Ginny Weasley. He almost had to admire the audacity of the boy. Not too many people would have the rocks to suggest that. For the first time since it happened, Draco regretted the angry outburst that resulted in the bet between him and Hadenthor. He rarely lost his temper, but after a long, unpleasant day with a Quidditch loss to Ravenclaw, the letter from his father, being humiliated in Defense Against the Dark Arts, again, and having to deal with Thanos and Eric, his control broke.
Bloody great. I'm going to be the laughing stock of Slytherin. Right before the Dark Lord kills me. He had wanted to rebel against his family, but thinking back on it, he realized choosing to date Ginny Weasley was probably one of the worst things he could have done. Sure he liked the idea of hacking off his father, but he wasn't too fond of the idea of what would happen as a result of it. He'll probably have her killed, he mused, frowning at the thought. I may not like the Weasleys, but I never wanted them dead. He needed to find a way to convince his father everything he was doing was for the benefit of Voldemort. That's it, he thought, I can tell him I'm using her to get to Potter. He smirked evilly, frightening a first year out of entering the room. He'll love that. Draco stood up and went to his room to write his father.
A/N: Yeah, the bet thing is token homage to "She's All That". There's a long story behind my decision to use it in this story, but the end result is hopefully enjoyable. Thanks for reading.