Two roads meet in a darkling wood.

I stand at the crossroads,

Hermes guide my path.

One road braid and easy,

The other full of briar and thorn.

The road ta hell is paved with good intentions.

And the other road is paved with blood.

Neither's the road for me.

I'll blaze a path with my own blood if need be.

Find a way through the wall of shadows,

through the deep forest gloom.

Don't you dare follow me -

Scribes might write of your valor

May they never speak of me.

Shadows merge with the darkness

As they flee from the light.

Still, You are the fire of my heart,

My soul's endless delight.

Draco Malfoy was inside the Potions classroom, setting up ingredients when the open door disgorged the audio of a crooked scene. He paused, listening.

Crabbe and Goyle said, together, to Hermione Granger, "Hey, hey, hey!"

Draco could hear Hermione's nerves in her cross response, "Let me through, I need to get to Potions."

"Uh-uh," Crabbe said, and Goyle grunted, "Not before..."

"Before what?" Hermione said, with the lightest stomp of her foot still echoing down the dungeon corridors.*

"May I trouble milady for a dance?" Crabbe said, and by the stunned silence, Draco realized that Crabbe had executed a perfect bow. The lad did know his manners, if he rarely bothered to use them.

"And I as well?" Goyle said, his politeness nearly ruined by the sheer glee of his question.

"Of course, when the time is right. I'll be sure to pencil you in." Hermione Granger said all-in-a-rush.

Draco Malfoy could picture (but not see) his goonish friends splitting to both sides, and allowing Hermione Granger to rush in. It was a miracle, truly, that the goons could pull off polite, and had much to do with Narcissa Malfoy's nigh-infinite patience.

That wasn't the ugliness of the scene. Nor was Granger's attitude, as she entered.

Crashing her scales down onto the table with a clattering bang, she turned to Malfoy and asked, "What? Had your laughs? Not going to invite me too?"

Malfoy sneered, "If I asked you, I'd have to touch you." Which was a fine thing to say, both truthful and deceptive in one peppermint-stick twisted package.

"Oh, Heavens, the world might end!" Hermione Granger said haughtily, and Draco Malfoy's mouth flicked up into a smirk.

No, the true ugliness was Harry Potter paying witness to this scene.

"What the BLOODY HELL is going ON!?" Harry Potter hollered.

Far be it for Granger to cower, even when she was (mildly) in the wrong. "Calm Down, Harry." she said through gritted teeth.

Be it farther for Draco to not milk it, he thought wryly. "Yes, tell the Golden Boy what you've done." Malfoy said in his usual insouciant drawl.

"I made a bet," Hermione Granger said, tossing her wayward hair behind her head, "I lost."

"Hermione! You should know better than -" Harry cut off, getting a befuddled look on his face. Had Potter not been his enemy, Malfoy would have cracked up at the sight.

Harry continued, "You didn't bet with Goyle or Crabbe-"

Hermione Granger said, "No, I didn't. The terms of the bet include a dance with every Slytherin who offers."

Harry Potter snorted, "No wonder you aren't going with Ron!"

Hermione Granger, hands bending a bamboo shoot nearly to the point of snapping, said, "No, I'm not going with Ron because he's an utter prat and an absolute shite." Truer words were never spoken, Malfoy thought, enjoying the physical gymnastics of Harry's face as it fought to both agree with her and defend his friend. I don't even need to say a word.

*stone is loud. carpet is not.

[a/n: braid == broad. That's a traditional accent there, from Thomas the Rhymer, from whence some of the imagery stems.

Leave a review? Guesses on what Draco Malfoy (erm, and Luna) is going to do next are very, very welcome!]