Everyone dashed for the carriages, it was like a stampede of teenagers. Despite the fact that the train had been packed, there seemed to be more carriages than were necessary Draco and Etean managed to get a carriage to themselves. It was still raining hard, so by the time they did, they were soaked. Well their cloaks were, inside them they remained completely dry. They got in and shook off the heaviest of the water as they pulled off. Draco was glad that they were alone, he had been wanting to talk to Etean in private all day.
"Em, Etean, can I ask you something?" Etean looked at him and raised an eyebrow, apparently curious.
"Go on then."
"Well I was just curious…and tell me to mind my own business if this is too personal or something…its just it's been bugging me for the last two days and…"
"Spit it out Malfoy." Draco took a deep breath, 'Here goes'.
"Well I…you know I overheard your argument with Menai the other night?"
"Yes, we already discussed that."
"Yeah, but I was wondering what it was all about…between you and Menai?"
"The argument was about you Draco, you know that."
"That's not what I meant and you know it, there was something deeper going on between the two of you."
"We have already covered that, he hates me and I despise him, it's that simple."
"Nothing with you is that simple. Poliakov said that it was to do with your father?" Etean's expression darkened, Draco instantly regretted pursuing this conversation as a jolt of fear ran down his spine. It was a long time before Etean answered. When he did, his voice was quieter than Draco ever remembered hearing it.
"Yes, it started between him and my father. They fell out…over my mother."
"Oh…" something in his tone told Draco he shouldn't push for details about Etean's mother, still he was curious, "But what does that have to do with you?"
"Because I want it to…" Etean's voice rose, he was nearly shouting now, Draco cringed, Etean got himself under control before he continued, "Look Draco, some things are just too important to let go. Menai deserves my hatred in more ways than I will ever explain to you. So let's just leave it at that shall we?"
"Fine," Draco's voice was almost a whisper, he made a silent vow never to push Etean on a personal matter again, "consider it left."
The rain hadn't abated as they reached the school. The crowd of students bustled together in a mad rush to get inside out of the storm. Draco and Etean found themselves at the rear of the bunch. Getting wetter and wetter by the minute they inched their way forward until at last they reached shelter of the Entrance Hall. Etean took off his cloak and looked around. Hogwarts was bigger than he had expected, but other than that the place held no obvious surprises. His gaze travelled around the Entrance Hall until he saw an elderly witch waving at him. He nudged Draco.
"Who is that?" Draco looked up from shaking himself off and glanced across the room.
"That's McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher," he looked again, "is she calling you?"
"Yes, it seems so." Etean looked confused. Draco thought for a second, then he understood.
"I know, she wants you to go with her," he smiled at the thought that occurred to him next, "she takes all the first years into the Great Hall. You have to go with them to be sorted."
"Sorted?"
"Yes, into your house, you know…" Etean cut him off.
"I know, I know, I just forgot is all." Shaking his head, Etean moved off through the crowd. Draco watched as McGonagall led him away out of sight before heading into the Great Hall. He was curious to see what kind of reaction the arrival of the famous Robert Etean would get from the student body.
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Etean followed McGonagall into a small room adjacent to the Great Hall. It was already full of kids – first years. Etean was sure he looked ridiculous towering above them. Many of them seemed terrified, they scuttled out of his way as he entered the room. McGonagall turned to say something to him but her attention was drawn by a voice from the door behind Etean. He turned to see Professor Dumbledore standing there, calling for Professor McGonagall to join him. They spoke briefly before he turned and left. McGonagall busied herself making sure everyone in the group was behaving themselves and that they were ready to enter the hall in some sort of order. Etean was bustled to the back of the line. McGonagall explained that he would be sorted last, after all the first years.
"Right then," she said in a throat twisting Scottish twang, "follow me, quietly if you can." The line of little first years moved off in her wake, Etean trailed after them. As the entered the hall, he saw the four long house tables packed with students. The ceiling above him showed the night sky, still pouring with rain. He heard the hushed whispers as they saw him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw some of them lean over and whisper to each other. He fought to stop himself from scowling. He hated being on display like this. The noise continued to rise until McGonagall stepped up to the front of the hall beside a three legged stool on which sat an old hat. Etean looked at it, puzzled. He stretched his senses out to Draco and lifted the explanation from his mind. 'Damn, it's still too easy. He has to learn to shut himself off.' Professor McGonagall unrolled a large scroll and started calling names. One by one the first year students walked up to the stool, McGonagall placed the hat on their head and, after a brief pause, it shouted out the name of their house. Etean watched, the whole thing seemed surreal, was this really the most respected wizarding school in the world?
On and on they went, name after name. First years stepped up terrified and ran down relieved to one of the long house tables. Then, Etean was alone. McGonagall read out the name of the last student – Alice Wallace who became a Hufflepuff, and was silent. She turned to the staff table behind her as Professor Dumbledore stood up.
"Thank you Professor McGonagall, thank you. And welcome to our new bunch of first years. A small bit of business still remains before we can begin our feast. We have one other student to be sorted. It is a most unusual thing for a student to join Hogwarts in anything other than first year and, as such I feel that I should introduce him personally. Would Robert Etean step forward to be sorted?" At the sound of his name, the whole room exploded with noise. Girls giggled, boys stared, Etean heard more than a few shouts of 'I told you so' before Professor Dumbledore clapped his hands and the quiet returned. He looked at Etean and gestured him forward to the chair. Etean stepped up, sat down and put the hat on.
"Now then," the voice in his ear said, it sounded old, "What have we here?...My word, I don't often see such a disciplined mind. Are you sure you're a student?"
"What do you mean?" Etean whispered, "Of course I'm a student."
"Oh well if you say so…Wait a minute, this mind is familiar…I have seen you before."
"What are you talking about? Of course you haven't. I have never even been here before."
"Strange that, you are familiar. Maybe one of your ancestors came here…yes? That could explain it." Etean was annoyed now. What was this thing going on about? None of the Eteans had ever come to Hogwarts.
"Whatever, now are you going to sort me or not?"
"What?...Oh yes, of course. Well now, let me see. Cunning, intelligent, wilful and with not a small touch of ambition. You must be…SLYTHERIN!" It bellowed the last part and the Slytherin table exploded with cheers. Etean stood up, removed the hat and headed down to the table where Draco, he saw, was making a space for him by ordering Crabbe and Goyle to bunch up. It took him a while to get there, every single student he passed seemed to want to shake his hand and greet him. 'Great more sycophantic idiots.' Eventually he sat down. Dumbledore called them to order again.
"Yes, yes welcome, welcome Mr. Etean. Now if I could have your attention for just a moment longer. There are a few important announcements that I must make before we are all too stuffed to care about anything other than sleep.
"No doubt most of you have noticed, there was no provision on your book lists for a Defence Against the Dark Arts text. This was not an oversight." He paused as every ear in the room turned its attention to him, "Now, as most of you are aware, Professor Umbridge left us at the end of last year. We were once again without a staff member to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and, in current climate of hostility, it has been impossible to locate a replacement that is both suitable and without a great many far more important duties to attend to. We have therefore been forced to adjust our curriculum somewhat." At this yet another burst of whispers broke out in the room. Dumbledore waved his hands for quiet.
"That does not mean, as some of you have no doubt speculated that the Defence course has been dropped. Merely that it shall take a slightly different form this year. Owing to the dangerous nature of the current state of affairs outside Hogwarts, the staff and I have decided that a more practical approach to Defence Against the Dark Arts is needed. Therefore, in place of your regular lessons, we will be holding a series of classes designed to instruct you on the active nature of Defence, that is to say, duelling. The staff, including myself will alternate our lessons, allowing for our other duties. These shall be supplemented by the instigation, or rather re-instigation of the after hours duelling society that has in the past enjoyed a fine tradition within the school.
"Well now that seems to be all that I have to say so…" He waved his hands, the dishes and plates in front of the students filled with food. "Dig in." He sat down, the noise of conversation resumed. Draco turned to Etean.
"That certainly clears up one mystery anyway."
"Yes…duelling society eh? Sounds…interesting."
"Yes, I wonder if it will be the same as last time."
"Last time?"
"Yeah, they started up the duelling club a few years back. But it didn't last long though. It was run by a complete idiot."
"Who?"
"Lockheart was his name."
"Gilderoy Lockheart?"
"Yeah, you heard of him?"
"You could say that. I met him a few years ago when I was in Bulgaria with my father. He was a total airhead. He worked here?"
"Yep, Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."
"What? That moron? He could barely tie his shoe laces without help." Etean's opinion of the great Hogwarts was falling fast.
"Yeah, well that didn't stop him. So, do you think this duelling thing will help us?" Etean paused, 'Careful!' Draco heard the warning tone, even in the thought.
"It seems like as good a way as any to learn Defence Against the Dark Arts. At least it's practical, not some boring theoretical approach." Draco was about to say something else but Pansy's voice cut him off.
"Are you good at duelling, my lord?" she said in a tone that just dripped with false interest. She leaned forward and batted her eyelids at Etean. Before he could answer, Draco rounded on Pansy.
"What did you call him?" Pansy turned to him, her expression became sour.
"I addressed him as 'my lord'. That is the polite way to address someone of his stature. And I would appreciate it if you didn't interrupt, it is very rude." Draco's face flushed with anger, he opened his mouth to respond but it was Etean's turn to interrupt.
"As I recall, you were the one who interrupted my dear," his tone became the practiced, polished air of breeding, "But think no more of it. By the way, on the subject of manners, I had thought that it was customary to introduce oneself before joining in on a conversation." Pansy blushed as she drew back in a fair impression of genuine embarrassment.
"Do forgive me my lord, I was not thinking. Pansy Parkinson at your service." She extended her hand, Etean kissed it, Draco grimaced.
"Delighted to meet you, but you can drop the 'my lord' bit, call me Etean. I prefer that."
"Of course, my…I mean Etean."
"That's better, now to answer your question, I have had only a little of what you might call formal training in the art of duelling. I have a fair grounding in the basics and I have it from my teachers that I possess excellent reflexes. I doubt I will have much trouble keeping up with the world famous students of Hogwarts."
"Oh, I'm sure you will, I have no doubts…" Draco tuned the rest of the conversation out. Pansy, Millicent and the rest of the Slytherin bunch carried on talking to Etean. A couple of times they tried to drag him into the conversation but he just grunted or ignored them entirely. He spent the rest of the meal growing more and more annoyed with the sudden change in Etean's behaviour. He was acting like the perfect pureblood toff, smarmy and slick from a life of social climbing. Was this even the same person who had damn near killed him a hundred times over the summer? The way they were acting nauseated him. His mind stared to wander, his eyes traversed the Great Hall, looking at the staff, the banners, the roof, and finally settling on the Gryffindor table. Thankfully, both of the Weasley's had their backs to him so they didn't see them looking. Potter was engrossed in conversation with Neville Longbottom, probably talking about something ludicrously unintelligent, and beside them…Hermione. She was looking right at him with a sort of distant expression on her face. His mind split in two directions, two thoughts battling to control his actions. One part wanted desperately to look away, to break the stare. The other part wanted to focus on her, to lose himself in her eyes and never come back.
He was still lost in the indecision when she shook her head, apparently she had just been daydreaming. Now she noticed him staring at her, but she didn't look away. Instead, she frowned, seemingly puzzled. Was the same argument going on inside her head? He extended his senses, trying to find her, to see what she was feeling but he couldn't. It was like opening the door on a riot of noise. Hundreds of feelings and thoughts bombarded him at once and he was instantly lost in the chaos. He shut his eyes and shook his head, grinding his teeth as the pain in his head mounted. He lowered his head and took a slow, deep breath. When he had regained his composure, he looked up at her again, but she had turned away, she was now fully engrossed in whatever conversation her friends were having. Sighing inwardly he turned his attention back to Etean and the self centred hippogriff shit he was doling out to the waiting Slytherins
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Hermione growled under her breath in agitation. Harry was now lost in conversation about duelling. Neville, Ron and even Ginny were all rapt with attention as he explained again about how duelling was all about nerve. It was true enough, there was no argument there, but Harry never seemed to stop prattling on about it these days. It seems the job of teaching their little Dumbledore's Army gang last year had finally gone to his head. She preferred it to when he was talking about Quidditch morning noon and night, at least this was a topic she could follow. It was just that nowadays he sounded more and more like a drill sergeant barking orders at her than her friend. He had changed, she knew something in him was gone forever. Losing Sirius in the ministry last year had changed him, now he was more reserved, more closed off and that bothered her. She was worried about him. She was worried about Ron and Ginny too. Their pain was nearer, it hadn't even been a week since Percy was murdered. She had been amazed when they had said they were going back to school with the rest of them. She guessed that they just wanted to be away from their parents and she could see where they were coming from. Mrs. Weasley had gone to pieces, and Mr. Weasley blamed himself, neither could bring themselves to even mention Percy. The tension in their house was so high that you could cut it with a spoon, let alone a knife.
So here they were, both of them torn apart inside. Ginny was trying hard to hide the pain, she went from extremes of false giddiness to absolute despair. Ron couldn't even remotely hide his, it just sat there below the surface waiting to strike. And strike it did, his temper snapped at the least little thing, he had bitten her head off more than once, Harry's too. She knew it was just the grief causing it, but it was still hard for her. She was desperate to help her friends but she couldn't. Harry wouldn't let her in and she didn't know how to help Ron or Ginny, there was nothing she could do. She felt bad for them, but she was also…lonely.
'Whoa, where did that come from?' she asked herself. How could she be lonely, here she was surrounded by her friends. But was she? They weren't really here, they were all hiding behind their walls, walls she couldn't get past. She was alone.
'Come on snap out of it Hermione. You can't think like that. They are your friends and they need you. They just need time is all, give them time, be there for them when they need you.'
'So what about what you need?' the selfish voice in her head asked.
'Go away you. They need me more than I need to be thinking of myself right now.' Suddenly she realised she was talking to herself. She shook her head and came to her senses. She looked about her, hoping that no one had noticed her zoning out and then she saw him. Malfoy was sitting at the opposite side of the room, ignoring the animated conversation around him, staring right at her. She found herself staring back at him. His expression was strange, he almost seemed sad. She frowned. 'What is going on with him?' She still remembered their conversation from The Leaky Cauldron. He had been acting strange then too.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. She thought she saw him smirk as he lowered his head. 'What is he playing at?' She wasn't in the mood for Malfoy and his weird games. Sighing, she turned back to Harry and his talk about duelling. He had gotten to the part about reflexes now. She tuned out straight away, she almost knew this word for word by now. Still she tried to look really interested, but her mind was still fixated on Malfoy. She looked over again, she couldn't help it, there he was laughing at some joke or other that the new boy, Robert Etean had made. She looked back to Harry.
"You need to be quicker than the other person, get in there first and see to it he doesn't get the chance to hit you…" Word for word, she followed him in her mind.
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The feast ended, they all trudged to their dormitories. But, for the more senior Slytherins anyway, there was no notion of going to bed. First the junior students were banished to bed, with warnings of severe hexes if they showed themselves or reported anything that they overheard. Then out came the wine and the party started. It was the same ritual year in, year out. Draco had enjoyed it before, but not now. This year he was absolutely disgusted by the way the Slytherins fawned and cooed over Etean. He wasn't surprised at them though, that was the way they always acted, the way he would have acted any other year. What really surprised and annoyed him was the way Etean lapped it up, he seemed to be enjoying every minute of it. He laughed, joked and drank just like he was having the time of his life. It was past midnight when they started to settle down. One by one, (or two by two in some cases) they all vanished into the sleeping quarters. Finally it was just Draco, Etean and Pansy. She was well and truly drunk, sitting perched on Etean's lap and was literally all over him, she only ever come up for air (and more wine). For his part he didn't seem to mind in the slightest. His face, when Draco could see it, was plastered in a wide drunken grin. His speech became slurred and barely intelligible. Pansy lowered her head and whispered some wicked suggestion in his ear. Etean looked at Draco as she did, and rolled his eyes.
She pulled her head back, waiting for his answer. His grin didn't change as he brought his hand up and touched her eyes. Her head fell forward onto his shoulder, fast asleep. Etean stood, lifting her up as he did. He turned and dumped her quite unceremoniously into the chair. He reached out and picked up the bottle of wine from the table and strolled quite steadily over to the fireplace.
"That one can't handle her alcohol." His voice had lost its drunken slur. In fact, in the last few seconds, he had changed so completely that Draco doubted he had actually been drinking all night. He turned round to face Draco. "Come on then, out with it."
"Out with what?"
"With whatever it is that had had you looking like a trolls armpit all night." Draco stood up, angry now.
"OK then, what the hell were you playing at? Acting like some posh git." Etean smiled.
"But I am a posh git Draco," he gestured to Pansy's sleeping form, "That's what they think anyway. That's what they were expecting me to be, so that's what I was. It is always easier to play to peoples expectations. They don't bother to really get to know you then, they are happy with their assumptions."
"So it was all an act? A game?"
"Yes, I was playing the good Slytherin. It will make our lives easier if you at least try to do the same. You can do that can't you? It was what you did every year here wasn't it."
"Every other year I was here, I didn't have to prepare for a fight to the death, did I?"
"Oh will you stop being so melodramatic, there will be plenty of time to get depressed later." Draco sighed and sat back down. He looked at Pansy and scowled.
"Did you have to act like…that, with her?" Etean smirked.
"I didn't see the harm in it. Why? You want her?"
"Her? No. But I hope you do."
"Why?"
"Because, now she won't leave you alone all year," he sighed again and looked back to Etean, "So do you? Want her I mean?" Etean looked down at her, he cocked his head to the side, thinking. Then he sighed.
"No, as it happens I don't think I do."
"Bad for you so. I'm warning you Etean, she could give an anaconda a lesson in being clingy." Etean shrugged.
"Oh well, I can deal with her later. Now we both should get some rest, believe me you will need it." He headed toward the stairs to the bedrooms.
"What do you mean?"
"You'll see," he yawned, "later."
They both disappeared up the stairs. Pansy snored in the chair.