Blaise Zambini was headed toward Care of Magical Creatures, which wasn't so unusual as it was a Friday. It was a bonnie autumn day (and Merlin save him if he ever spoke like McGonagall aloud), cool and crisp and cheerful. As everyone knew, the class itself wouldn't be like that at all.
The class was filled with deviltry and mayhem, mostly perpetrated by the "Professor" on his unwitting students. Still, it was never dull.
The teacher was mad, of course - so bad at his job that Draco had thrice tried to get him fired. It was perhaps a testament to Dumbledore's power and influence, rather than his mercy, that Hagrid was still a Professor.
And then Blaise saw Draco, strutting up from Hogwarts like he was a cock of the walk. Blaise's heart sank. That looked suspiciously like a Draco Malfoy with a plan. And if Blaise had learned anything these last three years, it was that Draco's plans were generally rubbish. And he was entirely too full of himself to figure that part out himself.
If Blaise could... but, no, Draco was actually decent at keeping his enthusiasm under wraps, until it was almost time. He'd have to rib Malfoy about this later, but what in the soddin' hell did he have planned?
[a/n: You think being friends with Harry is a lot of work? try being friends with beloved Draco.
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