A/N: 2020 - Revised
2006 - Well, this is chapter twelve. Duh. Anywho, on with the disclaimer!
Disclaimer (surprise, surprise!): I do not own Harry Potter (le gasp)
Uncertain what to do with the knowledge of what he'd witnessed, and unwilling to explore the unfamiliar feelings it had elicited, Draco fell back into comfortable territory. His past two plots had met with resounding failure, and it seemed only reasonable that he seek to redeem himself now. Thinking hard, he formulated what he considered to be a fool-proof plan. The first step was to come up with replacement potions. Professor Snape had warned them Friday that the next week they would begin working on the Draught of Living Death. Draco spent the remainder of his weekend familiarizing himself with the ingredients, and devising strategies to sour Weasley's without poisoning the entire classroom.
On Monday, Professor Snape announced that they would concoct the Draught that Wednesday. That just leaves tomorrow to do the swap then, Draco thought to himself. One element he'd not yet worked out was how to get the girl away from her bag long enough to switch the ingredients. By the end of class on Tuesday, he was all out of ideas. Lucky for him, while a few students were still tidying up, the Potions master called the girl in question up to the front of the room, where he spoke to her in low tones. With one eye out for movement of her flame of red hair, he silently levitated the contaminated ingredients behind Finnigan, Longbottom, and Thomas, into her bag. Just as stealthily, he summoned her ingredients to him before vanishing them once he was sure he'd accounted for everything. Finished, he gathered his own belongings and hurried from the room.
Draco didn't relax until he was out in the Entrance Hall. There, he breathed a sigh of relief. Not too shabby, eh?
He didn't realize his mistake until class the next day, when Granger began pulling her own ingredients out. You've got to be joking. They're going to use the mudblood's ingredients? Well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we? Under the pretense of getting a closer look at the board, Draco took a few steps down the aisle, purposefully walking close enough to their table to knock the ingredient bottles off. They smashed on the flagstones, the contents now contaminated beyond use.
"Oh, sorry," he said, not sounding the least bit sorry at all. He allowed himself a small smirk at the older girl's furious expression. His smirk turned into a delighted smile as she tried to hold the littlest Weasel back from attacking him.
"Come on, he's just being a prat. Ignore it," he heard her say to the angry red head. Draco put up his hands in mock defense and backed towards his own table, where a grinning Blaise was dicing wormwood.
Throughout the lesson, Draco looked over at the girls' table. They seemed to be getting more and more frustrated, as their potion became less and less the right concoction. Finally, when they added the last ingredient, it exploded in their face, causing boils to spring forth.
"You put bubotuber pus on the valerian roots?!" Blaise looked rather shocked.
Draco merely shrugged. "She sprayed me with dragon dung."
"Yeah, but mate! You were trying to trick her into putting that stuff on!" Blaise reasoned.
Shrugging again, Draco just said, "So? It backfired. This is just retribution."
From what Draco heard, their stay in the Hospital Wing was going to be a long one. Unsurprisingly, both girls received zeros on the assignment. Draco reasoned that Weasley must have figured out by now that she had him to thank for these things. Blaise suggested once that perhaps Draco had gone a bit too far, but otherwise kept his opinions to himself. Rather than be put out by Blaise's lack of support in the tactic, Draco decided that he had quite enjoyed the whole spectacle.
Much to his chagrin however, Draco's conscience decided to make an appearance on Friday. It was the day of Gryffindor's Quidditch tryouts, and he'd just heard that both girls were still in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey had no intention of letting them go, at least not until the next day. Draco knew that if Weasley didn't show, there'd be no way for her to make the team. Professor Umbridge had disbanded all teams the previous year, and even though she was no longer on the Hogwarts staff, no official move had been made to redact her order in the interim. All teams were reforming via these tryouts. It was this that led Draco to pay a visit to the Hospital Wing.
"I'm here to see Weas- er, Ginny Weasley," he said when questioned by Madam Pomfrey.
The matron pursed her lips, but led him over to the bed nonetheless. Draco decided he was glad to see that Granger was sleeping.
"What do you want?" Weasley spat the words at him. Draco took note of the fact that there weren't boils on either girl anymore. Shame, he thought. Such a good trick. Should've lasted longer...
"I hear Gryffindor's having their tryouts today. It's really too bad you can't make it," Draco opened casually. Judging by the stricken look on her face, Weasley had forgotten all about it. Her face contorted with rage.
"You bloody git!" She brought her fist down on the bed in a single punch. "You did that on purpose! Now I won't be able to be on the team anymore!" Her voice broke off in an oddly strangled way.
Hang on, is she about to cry? He felt a pang of guilt. Somehow, seeing this vulnerability didn't give him the sense of satisfaction he'd thought it would. He sighed.
"To be honest, no. I didn't." For once, his voice was clear of any malice as he seated himself in the chair next to her bed.
"Yeah, I'll bet you didn't," she muttered, glaring out the window on her other side as if determined not to look at him. Draco got up to leave, but turned back.
"Really, it's a pity that you aren't going to be on the team." At this, Weasley glanced up at him, confusion evident in her eyes. For a moment, Draco found himself unable to say anything. He was simply caught in the moment, the sensation of being observed by this particular girl with anything other than hostility or derisive amusement. Then, it passed and he turned again to leave. At the door, he called back to her. "Gryffindor needs talent like yours."
A/N: 2006 - Well, I think this will be the last chapter for a while. I don't plan on having such great access to the internet in the near future, so leave me lots of lurvely reviews! You know I love them so!