Cry Me Tears of Fire

By Pensive Puddles

Draco waited nervously in the Headmaster's office. He showed no outward display of nervousness, or excitement, but his insides were twisting back and forth anxiously. He tended to reach down to the pocket where his lighter was hidden. Merlin, just one light up and he'd be fine. He wished they would allow smoking at school. Sometimes he missed smoking. It had been so hard to stop, really it had been. He had tossed and turned during the nights, the taste still lingering on his tongue and cruelly torturing him. The smoke, flowing so snake-like out of from between his lips, lingering in the air before disappearing…and the feeling inside of his mouth, circulating around in small circles before he breathed it out…

He had to resort to the stupid patches. His addiction had caused him to become very short-tempered that Professor Snape finally held him after class after Draco had tossed a jar of lizard intestines at one of his fellow Slytherins, yelling curses and other threatening things for bumping into him and making him spill his potion. He had looked horrible, large bags under his eyes, and he'd constantly lick his lips. He had begged for one more cigarette, and he'd promised he'd stop after that. It would be his last one. Snape knew the old plea. He had been a cigarette addict back in his years in Hogwarts as well (he blamed it on Potter and that stupid Black. If they hadn't had tortured him, and teased him so much, he probably wouldn't have resorted to smoking to ease his frustrations…). He gave Draco patches to wear.

But although his addiction to tobacco was waning, sometimes, he just needed to feel a cigarette between his fingers, feel the perfectly rolled up piece of paper between his index finger and his middle finger. But playing with fire still worked, maybe not as physical, but it still calmed him down.

He couldn't risk it, though. He dared not show his great power in front of Dumbledore. Hell, his father would surely kill him if Dumbledore wrote him, telling him of his knowledge of his son's dark power. Draco could already hear the curses and lectures, followed by a couple of 'disciplinary' spells. He shuddered. And then he smirked; he now had the power now to defeat his father. He was the stronger of the two; he was the one who could make the other crumble to his knees, begging for mercy. The picture of Lucius' crying and begging for mercy…it tasted sweeter than any cigarettes or dark magic…it soothed his cravings.

The door closed behind him and he instantly dropped his smirk and put on a mask of confidence and calmness. It didn't stop the turning of his gut. "Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore said, taking a seat behind his desk and handing to the student a bowl filled with yellow wrapped candies. "Lemon drop?"

Draco declined. Dumbledore shrugged, taking one for himself and muttering, "I've yet to met a student who would take one…"

"Now," the old Headmaster continued, settling back into his seat with his hands clasped together and the candy tucked into the back of his mouth so that he could talk clearly. "I believe you know why you've been sent to my office."

Draco stayed perfectly still. He would not show any emotion that would tell the old man what he was feeling. He was the enemy. He had to be in control. He couldn't let him suspect anything. "As you know, there is a very burnt, pained student lying in the Hospital Wing, and I have witnesses claiming that you are the one responsible for the disturbance. Since the first person in question is occupied at the moment, I would like you to tell me your own version of the story."

Draco stayed silent. He didn't know what to say. He hadn't been at fault. If one would look at it in the lawyer's perspective, he was only acting in self-defense. But this was one cocky, deranged Headmaster, so who knew what could happen? "Honesty and unbiased facts is advised, Draco. It will determine the outcome of this whole event," the headmaster added, trying to encourage the young man to talk.

"Weasley assaulted me, sir. I only attacked in self-defense," Draco said monotonously. He did not say anything cocky or rude, for he was the one in questioning. Dumbledore nodded, sucking on the lemon drop. Draco suddenly remembered this was the second time he had been beaten by his peers. There was that time back in fifth year, where he had been badmouthing the Weasley family and the twins, and Potter had been sentenced to detention and banned from Quidditch for the rest of the year. It had been worth getting beaten though. This one…he didn't know if this was a fight that had been worth the pain and effort.

"And why did Mr. Weasley attack you?" he asked. Draco thought for a moment, trying to figure out how he could word his response in order to prevent himself from sounding childish. "I responded crudely to the accusations he had imposed upon me."

"What did you say?"

"I belittled his family and his choice of girlfriends," Draco said. He knew he was screwed now. Surprisingly to him, Dumbledore asked again, "And what did Mr. Weasley say to deserve such a barb?"

"He accused me of being a Death Eater," Draco responded calmly. He prayed Dumbledore wouldn't ask if he was one. Technically, he wasn't a Death Eater and he'd never be. The Dark Lord would never mark him as a Death Eater follower. He was to bear the mark of Voldemort's heir when he turned eighteen, which was in a month. Thus, he would be spared from becoming a follower, but he'd be forced to be the leader.

Dumbledore nodded slowly, drumming his fingers together and moving the lemon drop to the left side of his mouth. "And how did Mr. Weasley's face get so burnt?"

"I'm not sure, sir. I remember punching him under the jaw to get off of me. I think, sir, that maybe my own emotions caused me to do that, to burn him I mean. You know how you can make people blow up if you get too angry? I'm ashamed to say that I imagined Weasley burning the color of his hair. That's the only reasonable thing I can assume that caused the face damages," Draco said, avoiding the Headmaster's gaze and feigning a look of shame. Damn, he was good!

He sighed sadly and looked back up at the young man. "I'm sad to hear that such childish acts still take place between young men like yourself. I would have hoped that by your seventh year you would have acknowledged how immature fighting is. As you can see, I can not let this incident go unnoticed or unpunished." Draco felt his stomach fall. He was going to lose his Head Boy badge. This definitely wasn't going to be pretty.

"Headmaster, sir, may I speak?" Draco cut in. Dumbledore paused and nodded. "I was wrong to fight…Mr. Weasley. It was childish and immature as you described it so accurately, and thus I realize that I have no excuse for my behavior. I should be able to control my temper at this age, but sadly, I am having difficulty with it. Thus, I humbly hand in my Head Boy badge, for you wouldn't want someone like me as an example to the future graduates of Hogwarts."

Draco certainly had a way with words. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, "Take your badge? Nonsense, Mr. Malfoy. I can understand schoolboy fights. I must admit that I had those when I was in school myself. I was hoping that you would be smarter than me. But I suppose boys will be boys," Dumbledore remarked with a twinkle in his eye. "You are an excellent Head Boy, and it would be a shame to dismiss you for letting your emotions get the best of you. I must listen to Mr. Weasley's side of the story, but I do trust you, Mr. Malfoy, and I believe you wouldn't lie to me or exaggerate the things you have said. After I confront Mr. Weasley, I will administer the punishments. I hope that it will not take your badge. But I consider giving second chances another important quality that students must learn in life. Would you agree, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco nodded. So he wasn't going to have his badge taken away from him…yet. At least, his father would send him a Howler for that.

"You are dismissed to class, that is if you feel well enough. If not, you may report to the Hospital Wing and rest," Dumbledore instructed. Draco nodded, "Thank you, sir, but I assure you, I feel fine."

Draco turned to leave and almost reached the door when the old man called out, "Oh, Mr. Malfoy!" causing him to turn around to wait for the Headmaster's question. "I am curious, how did you heal your face?"

Draco quickly searched for an excuse. It was one thing to ignore Potter and company. It was quite another to ignore the Headmaster who could make the rest of his education at Hogwarts hell. "I preformed a healing charm, sir. I was in extreme discomfort."

"Ah," the headmaster nodded. "Taking extra studies on the side, I see?"

"Yes, sir," he lied.

And with that, he exited out of the Headmaster's office, his cloak blowing around him as he moved. He let out a long breath as he walked down the hall to his next class: Potions. He was so relieved that that meeting was over. It was a good thing that Dumbledore had listened to them separately. And he had to respect the man for listening to both sides of the story and not immediately assuming and punishing him when Weasley had been at fault. Potter couldn't save him now! It had really been Weasley's whole fault in the end. He had barbed him, and Draco had naturally responded. He wasn't the one who had lifted the other off his feet and threatened to kill him. He was the victim here. Although, he had no bruises to prove it. Oh well, he hadn't been punished right away, and as far as he knew, Weasley was still in the Hospital Wing, being treated for his burns. He chuckled, remembering the burnt red head. Served him right attacking him like he did. Merlin! He felt good! And with that, he walked to his favorite class, a bounce in his step and a pleased, evil smirk plastered on his face that would scare any little kids for weeks on end.

Potions class was quite unbearable that day, which put him in a very foul mood considering he enjoyed potions a lot. Not only because Snape was the one teaching it and he could get away with anything, but he did truly enjoying mixing and creating something. It took more skill, in his opinion, to concoct something then to wave a piece of stick around and mutter incantations.

He rolled his eyes as glances kept shooting in his direction, all from the Gryffindor side of the room. After hearing of the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin brawl in Care of Magical Creatures, Professor Snape thought it wise to keep Gryffindors with Gryffindors and Slytherins with Slytherins for the time being. He couldn't handle any fights today; he was too busy making sure that the complex potion they were doing would turn out fine. He couldn't stand mistakes. 'Curse that stupid Longbottom!' Draco could imagine Snape cursing in his head as Neville squeaked unnatural as his potion made an exploding sound on his side of the room. Draco only chuckled, earning him some nasty, threatening glares from the Gryffindors who had heard him.

"Nice to see you're still in a good mood," Blaise commented while scraping cut newt's tails into their cauldron.

"After beating the shit out of Weasley like I did? Hell, I feel great!" Draco said under his breath so that no Gryffindor could hear him. He knew they'd pounce on him like lions to fresh meat if he provoked them even just a little.

Blaise eyed his friend who was shaking in silent laughter. "It's not funny, you know. Weasley's seriously injured. They couldn't heal him and they had to send him to St. Mungo's."

Draco raised a pale eyebrow. "Little ol' me did that much damage?" he asked, a smirk already growing on his face. "Merlin, I am good!"

Blaise rolled his eyes, grabbing a hold of Draco's sleeve and pulling him close, whispering fiercely in his ear so he wouldn't have to speak too loudly, "Don't you understand! Your powers could be discovered. Nearly all of the people in both houses can vouch that they saw fire around your fist when you punched Weasley! How are you going to cover that? How?"

"Blaise, calm down, damn it, you're ruining my clothes," Draco snarled, jerking out of Blaise's grip. "I can handle the situation."

Blaise sighed, knowing that Draco was too stubborn to accept that he was being cornered and needed an escape route. He stirred the potion, glancing at the board to make sure they were making the potion correctly. "Fine," he said defeated. "Just pass me the Hydra scales. We need to add those in after the 36th clockwise stir."

Great, Draco thought. He's mad at me. That's all he needed right now. His best and only loyal friend pissed at him. This definitely was all Weasley's fault. He hoped his face would be permanently crisped. Served the bastard right.

Hermione spotted the vile creature amongst the crowd of students and instantly tailed him. Harry was close on her heels, his own green eyes glaring at the pale headed Slytherin. Hermione was able to slip around the people quicker and easier compared to Harry whose tall, broad figure was finding it hard to maneuver through the crowd. Hermione bent and twisted around people, barely touching them. Harry took the time to look at his best friend, admiring her ability to slip amongst people unnoticed.

Malfoy broke off from the crowd unnoticed and unfollowed except by Hermione and Harry. They quickened their steps as the crowd thinned. Hermione broke into a quick sprint, her feet soundless against the floor. Malfoy cursed as Hermione grabbed him by his shoulder roughly and with more force then necessary, she slammed him against the wall, his shoulder blades pinching into his back painfully. "What the—" he began and stopped when Hermione's hand contacted painfully against his face. He tried to reach up to touch his face but suddenly found his arm twisted unnaturally behind his back and pulled uncomfortably high. He growled in pain, wincing but never letting them get the satisfaction of hearing him scream. He glanced behind him and saw a flash of raging green eyes and wild black hair. With his face burning and his arm aching horribly, Draco only hissed through clenched teeth, "What the hell do you want?"

"You…you bastard!" Hermione cursed in a whisper as she stood in front of him, her face blushing at saying such a foul word. Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise, which quickly disappeared as she slapped him again, turning his expression to anger. Oh, he was going to kill her when he was let go. She only stared at him squarely in the eyes, "You horrible, pig! How dare you! How dare you!"

"How dare I? May I remind you that I was the victim in that situation? Not your precious, disgusting boyfriend," Draco growled, scowling fiercly at remembering images of the red headed freak slobbering all over her face earlier that morning. How could she let him do that to her? It was disgusting. He bet she never really had a true kiss. He hissed as Harry yanked hard on his arm, yanking him out of his dark thoughts. He was going to kill them both…

"It doesn't matter you little-" Hermione shot Harry a warning look while he snarled a stream of horrible curses. She was still Head Girl and Harry was bending the line for her not to take points off him. "If I ever see you near any of us, especially Ron, I will finish what he started."

"And you will end up exactly where he is," Malfoy warned, making a sharp whistle sound with his mouth. Hermione and Harry looked around as Slytherins with wands outstretched pointed at them. "Release me, Potter, or else you'll be hexed so hard that there'll be a few more scars to accompany that lonely one on your ugly forehead. Not to mention your little girlfriend here will be hexed within an inch of her life. I'm not fooling you, hurt me in any way and I will go after her first."

"You slimy bastard. Going for the women first? What a coward," Harry snarled, roughly releasing Malfoy to the ground. Malfoy turned around, his own wand outstretched. He didn't reach up to touch his arm to rub it soothingly to stop the throbbing, as he longed to. Instead, he smirked, "As far as I can see, there are no women among your army. Just one…filthy…mudblood."

The Slytherins chuckled at their leader's comment. Harry took a step forward and instantly Malfoy grabbed Hermione around her throat, his wand pointed at her head. She reached up, clawing at his arm that was preventing her from breathing normally. When he continued to tighten his grip, she stopped clawing. Harry's face darkened and his clenched fists trembled. Malfoy leaned down, resting his face closer to Hermione's head. He smirked as he saw Harry's eyes grow darker. He knew he was twisting a nerve. Oh, he had observed the Trio more than anyone else. He knew their weaknesses. He knew the boys' weakness. Careless buffoons. And he knew that there was more than one boy who yearned to steal the heart of Hermione Granger. And she knew nothing about it to stop it.

His lips brushed against her ear as he spoke and a tingly feeling numbed his chest as he felt her tremble against his body, he was pressed so close to her, "A warning, mudblood: don't walk in dark corridors; who knows what hides in the shadows."

It wasn't a question; it was definitely a forewarning, a dark warning that made her a little more rigid. Draco watched Potter's face closely and inwardly smirked in triumph as he noticed the scarhead's face wrinkle in worry. Always worrying about her, always. Then again, it was understandable. She did have him unknowingly wrapped around her little finger. This would usually anger Draco, he hated it when girls purposely tried to control a man. But she wasn't like the other girls. She was completely clueless to her best friend's feelings towards her. Innocent, too innocent. He could sense her purity, and he vaguely felt as if that white light of hers was dimming because of him holding her. It should have pleased him. It should have made him happy that he was slowly destroying one of Harry Potter's greatest allies, but it didn't. It made him feeling oddly guilty…and he couldn't put his finger on why exactly. He inwardly quickly shook of the feeling and focused on the task before him.

He smirked and threw the girl to Harry who caught her in his arms and held her protectively. "Get lost. My patience wans thin," Malfoy said, brushing his hair back. He wore a bored expression and his eyes stared lazily at the duo. Harry shot him one last, evil and livid glare before Hermione pulled him away.

Draco chuckled, waving his wand and the images of the Slytherins disappeared. "Works every time."

"One day it won't," Blaise said, stepping out from the shadows. "Someone will eventually see through the mirages."

Draco sighed inwardly. Blaise was following him again. Draco shrugged. "I'll worry about that when the time comes."

Blaise sighed. "You are one hard headed ass, you know that?"

"Don't forget filthy rich and handsome," Draco added, turning towards his friend and smirking. Blaise rolled his eyes and returned the smirk. It was useless to make Draco feel bad about himself. In fact, it was damn impossible.

A/N: Ok, ok, ok! I know that I should be writing more about The Dragonstar Quest, but I'm really getting more interested into this story instead. I'm a sucker to angst. I can't seem to write true fluff and stuff anymore. Especially after I read this one fanfic about clichés. It made me think about my own writing again, and so I'm trying to write less fluff and more understandable stories.

Anyway. I want to thank all y'all for reviewing for the last chapter! I love you guys! XD It makes me so happy!

Please review! Peaches!