Seven Years, Chapter 17.

AN: No, I don't own any copyrights. Stop asking.


Merula didn't have any interest in lunch, but she still headed to the Great Hall. If nothing else, she hoped her new roommates were willing to help with her… schemes.

To her disappointment, the Great Hall, while packed with laughing students, only had one of the seventh years Merula could recognize from the previous night. She was sitting with four boys, all of them laughing at something Merula didn't want to know about, each absentmindedly eating from a few plates of half-finished food as they talked.

But to Merula's relief, the lone girl at the end of the Slytherin table was the specialist in dealing with annoying brothers herself, A.J, and to Merula's delight, she even waved her over.

"Adam," A.J said with a grin as Merula sat down, flicking her wrist and summoning a hot plate of food. "This is my new roommate."

"Pleasure," one of the boys said, a wry grin on his face. "Aren't you the pumpkin girl?"

Merula groaned and banged her head against the table. She heard a round of laughter from the four boys around her. When she looked up again, her head still sore, Merula noticed A.J looking back at her.

"So," A.J. started, jokingly raising a cup of pumpkin juice as some sort of toast before taking a large, exaggerated sip. "What brings you here to our table?"

"I have a problem," Merula muttered, glancing at the four boys she didn't know.

"Your brother is Draco Malfoy," one of the boys laughed. "If you just had one problem you'll be lucky."

Merula cursed Draco under her breath before she calmed herself. She turned around, making sure there weren't any Weasleys in the Great Hall looking at her general direction before she turned back to the group. "I have a Weasley problem."

"We all have Weasley problems," A.J laughed with a roll of her eyes. "Two of them, in fact."

"The problem with twins," Adam added cheerfully. "But I'm guessing you've dealt with them already."

Merula looked down at the table as she remembered the prank she had fallen for last year. "I'm looking to get even with them."

"The youngest probably," A.J said without even looking up from swirling her cup of pumpkin juice. "What are you thinking? Polyjuice? Regular pumpkin juice?"

Merula shook her head as she looked over to the Gryffindor table. She narrowed her gaze onto the youngest Weasley, who seemed to be gazing longingly at something… or rather, someone.

Slowly, Merula followed the other girl's gaze, and she blinked in surprise when she realized the Weasley girl was looking at Potter. Well, that changed things.

Almost instantly, an idea clicked into her head. It wasn't original, and not particularly smart, but the Weasley had the same lovesick expression on her face as the other girls in DADA when staring at Professor Lockhart, and she did seem rather gullible.

"You have a plan," A.J guessed when Merula looked back at her. "Go on, tell us."

"I do," Merula said, a grin spreading to her face. She could see the steps playing out inside her head already, and she began to whisper it over to the others.

When Merula finished laying out her plan, a low whistle escaped one of the boys. "Remind me not to cross you," he said with a shake of his head as A.J leaned in close to Merula, gesturing for her to match.

"Flint's coming down the table," A.J whispered, her head nodding toward somewhere at the other side of the long table. "Faster than I expected, but it's as good a time as any."

Merula snook a glance over in the direction A.J was looking at, and she caught a glimpse of Flint before she looked back at A.J. "Should I tell him?"

"Up to you," A.J said with a shrug. "My plan was about keeping your brother in the dark. The less time he has to prepare, the better."

"Snyde?" Flint was obviously nervous, shifting from foot to foot as he spoke, his eyes darting around, looking at each of the other students around the table. "Are you telling Lu-"

"I want something for keeping quiet," Merula replied, standing up to look Flint dead in the eye. It was a difficult task, given that he towered over her like she would a toddler.

"What is it?" Flint asked, his eyes darting side to side, particularly back at A.J and the four boys.

"Father wants us to win the Quidditch tournament for years to come, doesn't he?" Merula asked. "That's why he… gifted the brooms in the first place, right?"

It was a lie, of course. Father only bought the team the brooms because Draco annoyed him into it. How else did Draco make Seeker without even making it into tryouts? But as her roommates had so helpfully pointed out the previous night, Flint, and by extension, Draco, couldn't admit that particular fact. Not out loud anyhow. Not with witnesses.

"Yes," Flint said finally, his voice slow. "What is your point?"

Merula shrugged. "I'm more into Quidditch than he is, and I spent more time practicing over the summer."

Flint's eyes narrowed. "You want to be the Seeker?"

"No," Merula replied. It was a lie. Of course she wanted to play Seeker, especially at Draco's expense. Who wouldn't? But there was something that she wanted even more.

To take Draco's position by blackmailing Flint would have satisfied Merula if the Seeker position was the only issue. Draco, for as long as Merula could remember, always used Lucius as a threat against anyone who would oppose him, and Merula found the idea of using the same threat against Draco to be deliciously ironic.

But Merula had more scores to settle with Draco than just one. Draco had to pay for the Maple poster, the detention the previous year, the actions that made her a social outcast. Just taking the Seeker position alone wasn't enough. Hence the plan.

"I want a contest between the two of us," Merula said, looking into Flint's eyes. "A Seeker's duel. Winner gets the job."

Flint's eyes narrowed, but he nodded hesitantly. It wasn't like Merula was providing him with a choice, after all. "Fine."

"Brighten up," Merula heard A.J chirp in. "Whoever wins will show you who's the better Seeker, won't it? And it's not like you have better options."

"You put her up to this?" Flint turned to A.J as Merula took a step back.

"What did I do?" A.J asked, her voice meek and innocent, even as Merula noticed a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Merula made a mental note to always be on good terms with the seventh year, even after graduation. If nothing else, perhaps she could find an intelligent counterbalance against Draco and Blaise and maybe a source of actual Christmas presents.

Flint gritted his teeth as Merula jumped back into the conversation. "Sorry Flint, could you leave? I'd like to have some lunch."

Flint scowled at that before he turned around, "Training pitch, come at six. Nobody needs to know this happened." he called over his shoulder before he stormed out of the Great Hall.

Merula watched him for a second before she glanced over at the clock before she turned back to the table and to the plate of food A.J had summoned. She had a few minutes before she had to run for the first of her afternoon classes.

"Thought you might be hungry," A.J said with a shrug, a knowing smile on her face. "So, how many Weasleys do you intend to get?"

"All of them," Merula replied, pausing for a moment when she realized she actually liked the nice brother. "Ok, maybe not the prefect."

"The two oldest brothers already graduated," the older girl said with a shake of her head. "I think one of them works for Gringotts."

Merula grimaced at the information. "Then the rest of them at the school. Minus the prefect."

"Good choice," A.J said as Merula grabbed a few chips. "I doubt you can get the twins though. They're too good at pranks, even for me."

"So," Merula grumbled. "Only the two youngest?"

"Hardly a problem," A.J replied, the mischievous smile returning to her face. "One follows around the Boy Who Lived like a lapdog, the other one is so obviously in love with him. Perhaps her brothers should know. Perhaps they won't take kindly to the truth. You see the opportunity there, yes?"

The fire in Merula's stomach simmered down at the suggestion, and she made a mental note to get the seventh year a much larger Christmas present than what she would give anyone else. Turning a Weasley against the Boy Who Lived. That was audacious, and Merula loved the idea, especially since the mere idea made the plans Blaise and Draco made looked stupid in comparison.

But of course, the obvious problem with her scheme presented itself. Merula didn't have an owl. Merlin, she wasn't even sure if Cloak was still alive. She had forgotten even to ask Lucius for a replacement owl. How was she going to get the message to one of the Weasleys?

"Something wrong?" A.J asked.

"No owl," Merula said with a shake of her head. "Draco didn't take Cloak home with him."

"Hogsmeade has an owl postal office," A.J replied with a roll of her eyes. "Any one of us could… deliver it for you. Pretty stupid to use your personal owl anyhow. You don't want anyone tracing your owl back to you, do you?"

Merula shivered as she noticed the wicked grin on A.J's face. Getting on the bad side of the seventh year seemed like the worst idea possible short of becoming one of Lockhart's mindless fangirls.

"I'll have a message ready soon," Merula said, glancing around the room. "Any advice?"

"Make it undeniable," the answer came. "Mention the scribbles in the diary. Hell, steal the diary and rip a page out. Don't do things halfway."

"Right," Merula muttered, making one last glance over to the youngest Weasley, still at the same corner she was still sitting at. "I'll do that."

"Get started once you beat your brother," A.J said as she rose from the table, gesturing for the gang of boys to follow her. "Hogsmeade is only available for weekends."


It was close to evening when Merula stepped out onto the pitch with her broom in hand, though there was still enough light from the setting sun to see the field and the brilliant evening sky. She noticed a small crowd of Slytherin students that dotted the pitch. Most of them were her new roommates, sharing wicked grins and whispered conversations.

It was at the centre of the pitch that most of the Quidditch team stood, with the exceptions of Flint who was in the air on one of the new brooms, and Draco who Merula couldn't see anywhere. If she didn't know better from living under the same roof for so many years, Merula could have sworn he had chickened out, just as he had the last time he was involved with a "duel".

Marcus Flint gave her a small nod from above as she mounted her broom. She remained around ground level for the time being, still waiting for Draco to arrive. It had been a few days since she had last flown, but from what she could remember, Draco had been out of practice playing with his idiot friends, probably assuming he was safe with Lucius all but securing the spot for him.

Merula turned over to the innocent looking seventh year who had cooked up the scheme, toying with a strand of purple hair and talking with one of her other roommates. Draco had failed to consider the girls Merula had bunked with, and even worse for him, he had failed to consider Merula herself.

And oh she was going to make Draco pay for that mistake.

It took a few more minutes, but Merula grinned when she saw Draco's fuming, raging face, marching toward the middle of the pitch, his expensive broom dragging behind him. Coming early had paid off, if only to show the Quidditch team around Flint that Draco would show up late to the most important match of his career. Not only were they going to see Draco outmatched on the pitch, but they were also going to see that Draco was a slacker, further sinking her idiot brother's reputation.

"Is everyone ready?" Marcus Flint called out from above when Draco came to a halt next to Merula, his eyes filled with an impotent rage that Merula enjoyed oh-so-much.

"This is for last year." Merula sneered at Draco as she watched him mount his broom. "No running from this duel, Draco."

Draco, who had been red with rage, grinded his teeth as Merula rose higher into the air, until she was next to Flint, and she watched as Draco shook and wobbled as he climbed up, his knuckles bone white as he raised himself to a similar level.

"How many times did you have to annoy Father to get Seeker?" Merula called over to Draco as she watched him wobble on his broom, clearly not prepared for the sudden challenge. "Once a day? Two? Six?"

Draco let out a low hiss, but he didn't say anything, and instead he looked back over to Flint, something Merula followed a second later.

"Are the rules clear?" Flint called out from across the field, holding the little golden ball high into the sky.

"Yes," Merula replied, remembering the terms the seventh years had laid out for them. "Whoever gets the Golden Snitch first wins the job."

Draco, still flushed a bright red in the face, snarled in response, but Merula shrugged that off. All that was left was to start. And Draco's Quidditch career would be all but over.

"Start!" Flint shouted as he tossed the little ball of gold into the air, where it zipped off rapidly into the distance, faster than what Merula could follow.

Merula suddenly pushed off on her broom down hard. She didn't see the Snitch, but Draco didn't need to know that fact. If his idea of a prank was sending her on a wild goose chase, then she was certainly going to repay the favour in kind.

Sure enough, Draco took the bait, and she felt him rush past her as she slowed, braking smoothly so she could watch Draco plunge into the distance on his Nimbus.

But when Merula looked around, she found the pitch empty of little golden balls. No telltale sign of the little golden ball that would signify her victory, but Draco had wasted precious seconds, and his face was somehow even brighter than before.

Merula glanced around the stadium again, and felt the air rush through her hair. Both of them were wearing full Quidditch gear, but the September air was colder in the sky than on the ground, and Merula felt her teeth chatter as a gust of frigid wind caught her.

Across the field, Draco remained still on his broom, and Merula could see his eyes darting around the field, clearly searching for the Golden Snitch. It was then that panic set into Merula, as she realized her feint had done little to tip the match in her favour. With the two of them staring at opposite ends of the arena, there was a fifty percent chance that Draco would spot the Snitch first, and Merula would have to waste precious seconds turning her broom around before accelerating her broom.

Those odds, Merula decided, were too good for Draco, and she needed to swing the advantage back to her again.

So Merula took a gamble and rushed into a random direction, plunging headlong into the cool September air, the cold sharpening her sight as she did long, sharp laps around the practice pitch, her eyes darting along, desperate to spot the Golden Snitch, keeping a high speed for whenever the Snitch would be finally chased after.

But as she turned around one of the corners did Merula hear Draco shout in triumph at the other side of the pitch, and she spun around to face him. To her horror, Merula saw the Golden Snitch far closer to him than to her, and Draco was closing fast.

But as she sped toward Draco and her victory, Draco mistimed his attempt to grab the Snitch, and he was suddenly rushing away from the Snitch rather than to it as fast as the broom could take him, screaming like a toddler all the while.

Merula passed Draco with a blown raspberry. It felt childish and stupid, but her victory was all but assured now that Draco was speeding in the wrong direction, clearly having failed to master the gift Lucius had gotten him.

When she passed the centre of the pitch, Merula growled in annoyance as the Golden Snitch suddenly shot up into the air, far too quickly for Merula to adjust her broom, and once again swung the momentum back to Draco.

Instead of wasting precious momentum trying to force her broom to chase the Snitch awkwardly, Merula decided to take a final gamble and take a lap around the field. It was a risky choice, but Merula reasoned that stopping suddenly would take the wind out of her sails and swing momentum back to Draco, whereas keeping the broom at a high speed would allow Merula to save precious seconds of momentum she would need for the home stretch.

It was difficult, but Merula tore herself far away from the Snitch, refusing to even waste energy by raising her arms, instead focusing all her attention on the turn ahead of her. It was all about timing her approach just right so she could skirt one of the corners of the pitch.

Sure enough, as Merula spun around the pitch, she saw Draco force his broom at her with a scream of rage and impotence, seemingly having failed to notice that Merula was no longer directly flying at the Golden Snitch, his head darting around as he struggled to find the Golden Snitch that Merula saw above and behind him.

Merula gritted her teeth as she finished the final turn, the rush of cool air inviting a sudden sense of nausea that she had to fight down even as she pointed herself at the Golden Snitch for real. There would be no more feints, tricks, or deceptions as she charged at Draco, who seemed to realize too late that the Golden Snitch was behind him.

Draco had only turned his broom halfway when Merula tore the Golden Snitch from the beautiful pink sky, and she let out a roar that echoed across the field, one that she heard repeated by the crowd below. Draco was finished.

Merula landed slowly as the adrenaline rush inside her faded, and she barely managed to stagger three steps before she was caught by one of the other players and held up, still breathing heavily as her heart pounded in her chest.

A few minutes later, Merula handed Flint the winged ball before she dropped onto the pitch, closing her eyes and enjoying the fact that her House was finally cheering for her until her body could finally calm down. It was over.

In the distant sky, above Merula's sprawled position on the grass, Draco looked like he couldn't decide if he wanted to cry, scream, call for Lucius, or start hexing her. Not that any of those options could convince her to scale back her relish, especially once Draco came down and Merula could see his humiliation up close.

But Merula wasn't done yet, and she reached out to Draco with an outstretched hand as he came closer. It was a sign of sportsmanship, though Merula knew in advance that Draco wasn't gracious enough in defeat to accept it - not that she cared. What mattered was forcing Draco to swallow his defeat, and making a show of it in front of the other Slytherins.

Sure enough, Draco stormed off the field without even looking at her, and Merula let her arm drop to the wayside as she turned and watched Draco go.

It was at that moment that Merula knew the sweet taste of revenge rushing through her body was something that she would never forget. Nor would she forget the sight of a humbled and humiliated Draco, dragging his oh-so expensive broom behind him, walking off from the pitch in shame. Those things Merula would take to the grave with her, that she knew for certain.

"Well," Flint said as he approached her, his eyes dark and seemingly annoyed as Merula handed the Snitch back to him. "Practice is-"

"I don't want the job," Merula said flatly, with a shake of her head. A.J had made it clear the night prior that walking away would wound Draco far more than anything else she could do as Seeker.

"Then what should I do?" Flint asked, his face mired in confusion as Merula headed over to the crowd of seventh years that had watched her victory.

"Give it to Draco," Merula called over her shoulder as she stopped. "Open competitions for it, I don't care. I have better things to do."

And with a final smirk over to Flint, Merula walked away from the Quidditch pitch. She would celebrate, but then it was back to work, and against a different foe.


It was harder to mimic Harry's handwriting than it was to beat an unprepared Draco, it had to be said, particularly when she only had a few sentences worth of text to mentally compare the forged note with.

But, as Merula realized, Ginny Weasley wouldn't have known what her crush's handwriting looked like, and if she was blinded by the prospect of reciprocation from her obvious crush, she wouldn't question it regardless.

Which made the plan all the more brilliant. Having Ginny Weasley conduct a midnight rendezvous with "H". A rendezvous that would never come. Sure, Ronald Weasley might have fallen for Draco's trick the previous year, but the youngest Weasley certainly didn't, and it wasn't like her brother would openly admit his mistake to her. Brothers just didn't work that way.

Regardless, by the time Merula finally handed the finished product to Tiffany, who seemed to be A.J's closest friend among the group, she was satisfied that it was only a matter of time before the next phase of her revenge plot could commence. She intended far worse for Ronald Weasley.

It was as she lay in bed that Merula reflected on her actions for the first time since she came to Hogwarts. It seemed strange that, in just one short day, her fortunes had changed so drastically. Gone was the outcast loner of yesteryear, played as a fool by those around her. Now her eyes were opened to the possibilities that existed around Hogwarts. All it had taken were a few words from a friend, one that Merula realized she had never had before.

A.J wasn't Potter or Blaise, the two so-called friends who had hidden things from her, manipulated her, and gotten her in trouble. She had corrected Merula, advised her, and been honest from the start, and in one single day, she had done more for Merula than anyone else had done the previous year.

And it was a good feeling, having a friend.


AN: Another chapter complete!

Replies to comments:

Comment 1: No, while there are no schools for fanfiction per se, there are professional courses (see your local liberal arts college) on "genre" fiction and "creative writing". The former is a great deal of fun and something I would recommend to anyone. The latter is a cruel joke a la what Merula pulls on Ginny. Recommended only for your enemies.

Comment 2: Yes, while Merula does believe she's the greatest witch at Hogwarts (helped by seemingly everyone else becoming a Lockhart fangirl overnight), I'm personally not going to write that particular line until at least the third year. Mostly because I find it out of character in Merula's new situation (same class as the Boy who Lived and a mudblood who is somehow as competent as Merula is), but I also find the line repetitive.

Question for next time: What am I taking the names of my newest batch of OCs from?