Chapter I

Draco Malfoy was pissed off. Harry Potter had shown him up again, but he vowed to get the last laugh on the wizard. The plan was to embarrass him to the point of Potter leaving school! And he'd use Potter's own friends to do the deed.

First a plan, then a strategy to implement it.

But first, a bath—to wash off the embarrassment. In their latest encounter, Potter had managed to dump an entire breakfast on him and manifest it inside his clothes. How, Draco wondered, was a feat he wished he could only guess. But Potter was a wizard with quite a few tricks.

Draco undressed and slipped into a private bath. He washed down, and then relaxed. Potter's face fuelled a fire inside him that needed to extinguish. And as his emotions boiled, so did the water churn and bubble. And then erupted into a geyser.

The water than came crashing down and when Draco emerged from submersion, he gasped for breath, and then slammed his slams into the water. Even in his own thoughts did Potter overcome him, to humiliate him, and cause him psychological agony—bursting with fury!

He stepped out of the bath, but his towel had become so saturated that Draco just threw it to the ground. And when he saw them, so had the clean clothes he had brought with him.

Standing in the middle of the bath chamber, Draco shouted and cursed, and vowed revenge once more!

Draco stood in his private bathing chamber. After he let out a loud cry of fury, he took a breath, and his eyes narrowed with disdain. His vengeance would be swift against Potter, he vowed.

There was a mirror on the wall. Slicking his angel blonde hair back, he took a look at himself from the waist up, and smiled with a pride arrogance. A wizard should always be ready for action, especially against forces that challenged him or her.

His eyes darted from side to side, and then he flexed his arms out front, tightening his biceps, and folding his chest muscles in. He had his own private gym, much like this bath, and he favoured it daily. The clothes he wore only showed a small providence of his physical prowess.

"Lusting after yourself again, Malfoy?" The voice was familiar, but it was still shocking to hear in his private bath chambers. He whisked around to see Harry Potter, or a manifestation of his rival, standing before him, much like he was—baring it all. But this was not he real McCoy, Draco knew, only a specter of the man whom he vowed revenge against.

Draco straightened. "You again! I told you to leave me alone!"

The specter of Potter laughed. "We've known each other for a very long time, Draco," it said. "You wished ill upon me in the past, but we'll always be one." The specter touched his right temple. "You can't escape me. You'll never eliminate me from your conscious mind."

"You're not real," Draco said.

"I'm as real as you perceive me to be, and as solid and as concrete as you speak to me like I'm a real person," the specter said. "And I take this form of your rival to embed and fuel the fire of hatred inside you. You want to destroy Harry Potter, correct?"

"Killing is beneath me," Draco said, "and Potter doesn't deserve a senseless death. He has his uses, but I intend to humiliate him for what he did to me!"

The specter laughed. "You can do better than that, Draco. You are a pure-blood. It's your ego that controls you, that's why I'm still here. I'm your angry in physical form."

Draco grit his teeth. "Go away! And stop appearing before me. I'll deal with Potter, and his insufferable kin without you. And, by-the-by, stop trying to sized me up. It's chilly in here."

The specter chuckled.

"You're pig-headed and narcissistic, Draco," the specter proclaimed.

Draco straightened his chin. "I know what I want," he retorted.

"You pride yourself on not only on your skill-level, but also your excessive grooming habits. But you're a little lax with the women." The specter pinned him against the wall, hands pressed on either side of Draco's head. "But we both know the truth of it, don't we?"

"I don't know what you mean," Draco said back, then pushed it away.

The specter pushed back and shoved Draco hard against the wall. Draco winced, his muscles ached with a sharp, stabbing of pain, and the specter pressed close, face to face. Draco saw him as too close, and tried to break free. But the other's stance was too static and immovable.

Draco clenched his teeth, righting himself. "What the hell?"

The eyes of the specter of Harry Potter glowered red, as if possessed, and it smiled. "You need to get angry, Draco. Like you did before. Make me feel your emotions. Show me your passion. That Malfoy strength!"

Draco squeezed his fists and swung at the specter. The other leaned back as Draco's fist passed through air, and the centrifugal force, and the water in the bathing area on the floor, caused Draco's feet to shift position, and him to swing around uncontrolled.

The specter pushed him to the wall again, its hands bashing Draco's back. Draco tried to swing around, but the specter pinned him, hard pressed. "Why are you doing this?"

"I need you to get angry, incensed," the specter coaxed. "You're at your best when you're singular-focused. You want to beat Harry Potter, then show me you can."

Draco swung an elbow back. The specter stepped back.

"Pretend we are gladiators, and we're battling it out in an arena of sport. Our nakedness not an embarrassment, but a sense of freedom, and inhabitation, to unleash your full fury!"

Draco had had enough. This specter had had been haunting him since he was a child. He had told not one about it, neither did "it" have a name, per se. Draco just referred to it as a "specter", but it had never attacked or threatened him before, nor had it taken any other form other than his own resemblance. Perhaps the recent encounter with Potter brought out its trickster?

It was time to show it who was boss—despite having the face of his rival, this Specter was its true enemy right now.

"If I can defeat you, then I can beat Potter!" Draco declared, standing ready, offensively.

The specter grinned, wiggling a finger. "Give me you best, Draco. Only then will your true wizardry break-forth!"

Draco wished he had his magic wand, but he had had a few tricks up his sleeve, metaphorically speaking. He felt a little self-conscious fighting this long time specter in the nude, but it would not stop him from finally confronting its hold over him.

This specter had haunted and taunted him for many years, a by-product of his own self-consciousness when it came to being the best.

Now, it was a fight with himself—with the face of his rival. And he vowed he was going to win!

In secret, he had learned to use his fingers as an extension of his magic. Normally, he would have his wand with him, but he had had learned a wand was only extension of the power he already kept inside him. And as he extended a hand, he spoke a quick enchantment.

The specter was flung back, but as it flew through the air, it reached out, and something yanked Draco forward—like an invisible thread of magic, and they splashed into the waters of the bath.

Draco surfaced, the water wasn't that deep. He slicked back his hair to see.

The specter was nowhere to be seen as he Draco swirled every which way. When suddenly, Draco was pulled under the water, something had grabbed his legs. Draco struggled against an invisible force. He was then tossed out of the water and became suspended in mid air over the bath, with the specter half submerged, waist down, with its hand raised up—holding Draco up.

"You didn't think you weren't the only one with the power of 'One-Self', eh Draco?" it said, still with Harry Potter's resemblance. "I know about it, too—as I am you, in truth." It walked out of the bath, talking one step at a time, until it was fully out.

Draco still hung in the air. "Put me down!" He shouted.

The specter merely laughed. "I don't respond to threats, and you have never been about to give me much of a challenge, Malfoy," it said.

Just then, Draco's anger broke forth directed at the specter, and the specter was thrown against the wall, and Draco was dropped, splashing down.

Draco jumped out of the water nimbly and he used his magic to hold the specter in place, both hands outstretched and hands in claws as if trying to chock the life out of it. Draco walked to it, a prideful smile on his face. "Thank you, specter," Draco said, "you've helped me remember my true power. Dangerous, but mine, nonetheless. Practice does make perfect, they say."

The specter smirked. "Anger has already been your friend, Draco," it said, as it struggled, "and when you and it are one, you're unstoppable. Harry Potter won't stand a chance."

"Yes, well…I know I'm more powerful than Potter, but intelligence is also my asset," Draco said. "Potter is lucky, and he has his friends to back him up. I have my people, but they're cowards."

"One man can make a difference," the specter said.

"True," Draco said. "Now, begone! I have plans to make."

The specter smiled and vanished on command. "Until next time…" Its voice faded.

Draco stood alone in the bathing chamber.

He picked up his wet clothes and stared at nothing—but inward—to plan, to scheme, and to plot revenge against Potter for the morning's transgression.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," he said openly, but I'll dine with revenge in my heart, to cast you to Hell, Harry Potter. Mark my words, I will defeat you…"

He then left.

To be continued...