Draco Malfoy had laid his ambush, as he always laid his ambush. He knew exactly how the Gryffindors exited the Charms classroom (predictably, to the right*). And he knew when his godfather would be climbing the stairs, intent on his daily debate with the head of Gryffindor House. Well, he called it a debate. Draco was pretty sure that McGonagall thought of it more as a battle, judging from her raised voice by the end of the meeting.

"Well, if it isn't Potty, Weasel, and the Mudblood." Draco started in as he stepped around the corner, Vince and Greg following with matching grins. Draco didn't particularly like the way his stomach twisted at what he'd just said (remembering Hermione Granger crying when he'd first called her that was getting harder, not easier, to remember, and it made him feel shame. which wasn't an emotion he felt often, and one he didn't want to feel ever again), but he supposed there was no helping it.

Harry Potter shot Draco Malfoy a look of disdain, mixed with a dash of... was that betrayal? Oh, come on! Potter, being friendly with Slytherins is going to get you snakebit, don't you know that? Draco Malfoy thought dryly. Through gritted teeth, Harry said, "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Oh, we all know I needn't want for anything." Draco Malfoy quipped lightly, "Unlike Weasel there. Is that your brother's handmedown wand, or your father's?"

"It's my wand! Paid for fair and square..." Ron said, turning a delightful shade of purple.

"Riiiight" Draco Malfoy said, "And I'd believe you because...?"

"Ron, Stop it." Hermione said curtly. That was another thing Draco liked about her - she didn't plead. She spoke, and expected people around her to listen. And, in her voice, those sounded suspiciously like battle orders.

"Oh, listen to the little know-it-all Mudblood." Draco Malfoy started in, his voice weaving like a mongoose around a deadly cobra. "Thinks she's all that when she hasn't even got a ward to her name."

Hermione Granger simply tilted her nose up, and sniffed at him. It was almost like she knew exactly the quickest way to aggravate him! Not that he'd let her know about that, of course.

"Malfoy, enough." Potter said, his wand poking out of a sleeve. Not good enough, Draco thought idly.

"What would your Gryffindor parents think of you, standing here like a Hufflepuff, too cowardly to even teach me to mind my words?" Draco Malfoy said softly, "I think they'd be ashamed." Oh, Draco knew it was a lie, and a fat and juicy one at that. But Potter was too full of himself to notice.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Potter pulled his wand (as did Weasel, far less of a threat).

Two.

One.

"WHAT is going on here?" Snape thundered, coming upon the three Gryffindors facing down... Draco Malfoy (his goons having left at the strategically agreed upon time, and currently snickering in an alcove three paces away from the lot).

[a/n: And so it goes. Up next it's wednesday, and that means Potions Lessons. See Draco Insult, See Potter Fume. Now see what fuming is like in a potions lesson. Dangerous, wouldn't you say?

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*Sorry for the americanism. dealwithit. brits don't generally turn to the left.