AN: Here it is… The next chapter of my ramblings…
Animegurl088, miss quirky bookworm, and wolfawaken – thank you for your attention. This chapter is for you. Have fun reading it. Or rather I hope you will.
Chapter 2
Finally, it was the end of summer. Hogwarts' Express was leaving today in a few hours. Draco looked at himself in the mirror to double-check his appearance. He looked very different. He grew to an imposing height of 6'2 feet, his shoulders broadened and muscles became even more toned. The body structure just screamed power but was at the same time perfectly proportional and not an ounce bulky. The hair was cut short (he did not appreciate waking up to ankle-length hair just after his birthday) and its shade lightened to white-blond. His eyes were, though, one of his most outstanding features – two symmetric pools of molten silver. All in all, he looked plainly gorgeous. Many female and male drooled heavily after him even seeing him in passing, but very few of them were candidates.
So far, he'd found only two candidates: a promiscuous French girl who faintly smelled of lilies and whose aura was light blue with rose highlights - fairly desirable but definitely not a mate material – and amazingly enough, one and only of his true friends - Blaise Zabini. The boy was doomed to look pretty, had a rather strong aura of violet and smelled of ginger.
And that was all. None of the other children of the pureblooded circle seemed to meet his selective veela senses. And not only children, none of the elders were in the least bit attractive either. Voldemort and other DEs with their families, who decided to hang out in the east wing of the Malfoy Manor, were also quite useless for his purposes.
Blaise was the best choice so far. But, despite his pretty face, Zabini heir was a firm heterosexual male and would not be persuaded otherwise. Many tried and miserably failed. So, in this case he'll just have to do with a partial bond. And he wanted a full one.
Was he doomed to pine after some overachiver Mudblood then? The Weaslette or the like? He even tried to imagine what it would be like if Potter proved to be a candidate. Nah, he would probably sick himself on the git's disgustingly red-and-gold Gryffindor aura. But it still remained to be seen. The whole school of hormone driven teenagers was within his grasp.
Dinnertime. A wonderful welcoming to school feast. All things sweet and fuzzy – yack. And still no luck in mate search. No more Slytherins were candidates.
Draco sighed. He had to get on with the other, not so easily acceptable choices. Namely – the other three houses.
He was so engrossed in his smell surfing – yes, there was a faint vanilla smell coming from the Ravenclaw table – that he didn't hear the increasing commotion and missed Blaise's question.
"Draco!"
Well, the nudge still worked.
"What?!"
"Where d'you reckon is Potter?"
"What do you mean where is Potter? Isn't he… So he isn't."
Draco finally turned his gaze towards the Gryffindor table, where the remaining two parts of the Golden Trio were looking frantic and agitated. The other population of the Great Hall was beginning to stress as well.
"Where is Potter?"
Ah, thank you, Morgana, for the imbecile who was uncouth enough to voice, or rather shout, the question of the day.
Dumbledore in his full long-bearded glory stood up and addressed the suddenly attentive students.
"Dear students, do not worry, Mr. Potter will join us within a week. Now, as the dinnertime is over, please proceed to your dorms. Prefects, the first years are all yours."
The headmaster's eyes went into an overdrive twinkle blast and most of the hall immediately became their normal docile selves and began preparing to leave.
"That… was not persuasive. I bet, the coot has no idea where his golden boy got lost."
Draco silently nodded in agreement. Both Weasley and Granger calmed down… a bit and didn't look terribly pacified. And for perceptive people that meant that something was very-very wrong.
"Do you think the DL finally got to him?"
"Nah, the dude and the gang had a revel yesterday night. Even the anti-hangover potions won't help them to do anything productive at the moment…"
Vanilla… He stopped and frantically caught the passing by person on the wrist.
"Fuck, Lovegood?!"
He was staring in shock at the swirling tornado of pale multi-colour snowflakes. That was one freaky aura…
"Oh, good evening, Draco. Do you know that Krogglers are hiding in your robe pockets? Don't let them get to you. Nasty biters, that they are," the girl nodded solemnly to her own thoughts and floated away.
Draco's grip on her hand loosened and he rolled his eyes:
"Whatever, Lovegood. Just… be on your way. Good night."
"Good night, Draco. Beware the big bug, he'll try to snatch you, don't let him…"
"Yeah-yeah," when did a bug have a sex? He? Crazy – that one.
"Why are you talking to the freak, Drakie-Poo? Planning to hex her?"
Oh, sweet Jesus and all saints! - forgive Morgana for muggle phrases – Just kill the dog, it's suffering…
And that was Pansy laughing behind his back. The prophesied future Mrs. Malfoy, slut, pug and just not a nice person. Thankfully, she was not a candidate, never was and never would be…
"Poonsy-moonsy, don't you have other people to haunt?"
"But, Draco…"
The boy carelessly left her standing in the hall and caught up with amused Blaise. He could swear he felt the pout forming on Pansy's exquisite face behind his back. And what a pout that was… Ever seen a pug pout? No? Just hope, you never will.
Lovegood? Draco began to seriously doubt his "instincts" sensibility. He could actually see that there was some beauty beneath the crap, sorry, bottle caps, but… Lovegood? Just no… NO.