"Granger is the dirtiest witch I have ever seen!" hissed Draco, throwing off his robe and flopping on his bed. "A filthy, filthy thing!" he groaned into his pillow.
"Oh yes, I saw how she was all buddied up with Potter and his weasel, too," claimed Pansy, as she sank down next to Draco, her knees somehow managing to dig painfully into his ribcage.
"And you're a whore!" Draco declared and shoved her off the bed.
"That is it!" Pansy shrieked and Draco was grabbed by his hair and yanked onto the floor as well.
A minute later, Draco was beneath Pansy with his nipple between her fingers.
"Ouch! Stop!" he hissed, slapping her away to no avail.
"You have been an insufferable prat for the past week! But calling me a whore is the last drop in the cauldron, Draco! I may be a lot of things but I am not jealous. Now, you! You-the sissiest boy I have ever met by the way-are jealous. You, sweetie, are the definition of jealous!"
Draco sputtered.
"That's what I thought!" Pansy crowed and spared Draco's nipple in favor of hopping back on his bed. Draco scowled up at her chipper form. He was in no mood for her games. The urge to start ranting about Potter and his merry band of Gryffindors was stronger than ever, but Draco bit his cheek to keep anything else from slipping out.
"I am not jealous of that mudblood," he announced at last, still on the floor.
"I was only joking . . ." said Pansy, not sounding like she had been joking in the slightest. "Now, how's that house elf of yours with beauty charms?" she asked quickly.
Draco scoffed and set Linky loose on the girl.
A few days had passed since, as what Draco liked to call it, the Draco-should-have-kept-quiet-and-let-Potter-be-eaten-by-a-troll incident, but the uncomfortable feeling of pure hatred in Draco's gut hadn't gone away. It was a very distracting feeling.
Of course, this meant that on his next lesson with Snape the professor actually wanted to do something besides play musical instruments, but Draco had a hard time concentrating. Snape had asked him to think back over the past few lessons and remember each and every thought he'd had while he'd been listening to or playing music.
Snape had ended the session an hour early, claiming that Draco was purposely being as irritating as possible.
In fact, Draco had been, but he regretted it a few hours later when he was once again doing nothing but sitting in his chair and biting his tongue to keep Harry Potter's name from his lips.
The only good thing November brought was cold weather, Draco thought, which he didn't particularly like, but anything was better than the heat. Though Draco did start to feel better as the days passed. They were finally learning some new and interesting things in Transfiguration and Charms, which was a huge distraction considering Draco's magic had seemed to blossom since he arrived at Hogwarts. For the first time since he could remember, whether he was focused or not, Draco felt like he had his magic at his disposal.
It wasn't that his magic hadn't worked before he'd arrived at Hogwarts, it was just a . . . rare occurrence for Draco to have much success at spell casting beyond the basics. His father attributed it to Draco's lack of concentration at first, then later his lack of confidence. As much as Draco hated to admit it, he'd believed his father was right. His father was always right.
But . . . maybe not, since Draco was obviously not focused these days and yet was able to perform most magic almost thoughtlessly.
Or maybe his father was just hiding something. Draco thought this was more likely, but he hadn't a clue what it could be.
More time passed, and Draco spent the days studying and the afternoons sprawled out on his bed with Pansy, performing his own hair charms while he watched Linky work her magic on Pansy's hair . . . or nails or makeup.
Two weeks of this and Draco still hadn't fried off his own hair again. Three weeks and Pansy let him do her hair. Surprisingly, Draco didn't screw it up . . . even though he'd half been hoping he would. His magic really was working, it seemed.
All was well until the day of the first Quidditch match with Slytherin vs. Gryffindor.
Draco had studiously ignored what Potter had been reading in the proceeding days, even though he'd caught the unmistakable binding on Quidditch Through the Ages from the corner of his eye many times. However, on the day of the match, Draco could no longer put it from his mind. Especially when he woke up to the incessant voice of the dragon calling to him in the morning.
Draco went about his day like there wasn't a pestering beast in his brain, but barely received any satisfaction from it since he still had to go watch Potter, or else deal with Pansy teasing him for a year about missing it. Besides, there was always the chance that Potter might play horribly and Draco wouldn't want to miss that.
From the time Potter kicked off the ground to the time the match ended, Draco went through many highs and lows. It started when Draco confirmed for himself that Potter was playing as seeker. He'd expected as much from the rumor mill, but the realisation still took his breath away. Draco was a seeker by nature, he'd always thought of himself as one. Even before he knew all the positions, Draco had been chasing around snidgets and snitches. Quidditch by oneself could become quite boring without a little, fluttering ball. For the first time in a long while, Draco stared at Potter's form and hadn't a clue what to think or how to feel. Then Pansy accidentally stepped on his toe, and the pain snapped him out of it.
Draco steadily grew more outraged at seeing Potter up there, but he couldn't seem to look away either. That was until a loud roaring split through Draco's skull, causing him to double over in pain and drop his binoculars. He felt the crowd change form, and just knew that Potter was doing something, but the noise in his head kept Draco from looking.
Somehow, Draco also knew that the roaring noise was the dragon's doing and vowed to get him back someway. This, of course, was when Draco was distracted by something else - Hermione Granger was setting professor Snape's robes on fire a few feet below him. Draco blinked.
Draco could hardly believe his own eyes. In the face of such an absurd sight, Draco forgot all about the pain. He watched as she scooped the fire up and, by the time Draco realized she was actually going to get away with it, she was . . . well, getting away.
The noise in his head had stopped completely and the crowds suddenly went wild, but Draco barely noticed as he took off after Granger. She seemed to be making her way back to the weasel, until Draco caught up and dragged her away from the commotion.
"I saw that," he chuckled against her ear as his arm came around her shoulder to guide her back toward the castle.
"Ma-Malfoy," Granger sputtered, and they slipped away completely unnoticed.
As soon as she regained some sense, Draco was thrown off. "You didn't see anything!" she claimed and began to stomp back toward the stands.
Draco righted himself and stepped in her path. "Oh, but I did," Draco pointed out and couldn't stop a devilish grin from eating his face. Granger audibly swallowed and Draco instantly felt better than he had in months. Joy washed over him and it felt great. He started to laugh at her expression before he could stop himself. This instantly made her scowl instead, and she quickly scanned the area before grabbing his hand and pulling him further off, Draco still chuckling gleefully.
"Look, you can't tell anybody!" Granger pleaded when she deemed them far enough away.
This sobered Draco considerably. "Why couldn't I?" he asked.
"You just can't!" Granger shouted.
"Would your life be over or something?" Draco smiled.
Granger moaned pitifully and made to speak again but suddenly cut herself off as her eyes narrowed on something behind Draco's shoulder.
"Granger?" Draco snapped his fingers in front of her face and she only blinked.
Draco sighed and looked behind him but didn't see anything except trees with some decorations on them.
"All the other decorations are put up," Granger muttered and suddenly it all clicked, Snape's riddle jumping to the front of Draco's mind, and then he was running toward the tree line with Granger on his heels.
They reached the tree at the same time. It was the biggest one and the only one with a pumpkin floating inside the giant hole in the trunk.
"Do you think . . ?" Granger started but Draco already had his wand out, items floating toward him. Instead of a candle inside the pumpkin, there was a jar of glowing liquid and, as soon as he removed it, the decorations began to disappear. Draco quickly pocketed the item before Granger could read what its tag said.
"Seriously!" Granger moaned, sounding more distraught this time than she had over her own reputation. "You wouldn't have found it without my help!"
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Consider us even then," he sneered a moment later and then stomped away.
It turned out that Draco had missed Harry Potter catching the snitch . . . with his mouth. He imagined the unfortunate-faced boy would have looked much like a tree frog while doing it.
Draco did well to push Potter out of his mind for awhile after that. He had Snape's latest riddle and his upcoming trip home for Christmas on his mind. Draco actually found himself feeling bad for the other boy. After all, Draco couldn't even imagine what it would be like to have to stay at Hogwarts the whole holiday. Draco would probably die . . . not that he was about to tell Potter this.
When the dragon next called him, Draco wasted no time before stomping off toward him, ready to tell the creature exactly what he thought about all these mind games. It was only when he was halfway to the tower did Draco realize the call was pulling him in a different direction. Draco contemplated not going toward the call, but in the end his curiosity won out. Besides, he could always send his own call to Linky anyway.
The pull stopped when Draco reached a room that was empty except for a large, ornate mirror. He cautiously approached the thing, wary of such a large area for his unpredictable image to roam. This was when Draco noticed that he wasn't alone, Harry Potter was standing right behind him. Draco whipped around but the room was empty. He frowned and turned back to the mirror. Now Potter was laughing at him in the reflection. Draco instantly blushed bright red despite not knowing what was happening. Reflection-Potter only laughed harder, swinging his arm around Draco and basically rubbing their faces together.
Draco suddenly got a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach and looked up. As he read the words engraved at the top of the mirror the feeling grew worse until Draco was violently sick on the floor and fled from the room.
Bloody stupid dragon! Draco silently cursed the thing all the way back to the dungeons and then pushed the incident far from his mind before falling asleep without dinner.
The next morning, Draco had a lesson with Snape in which he finally began to make some progress. Draco believed his improvement was based on the fact that Snape actually deigned to answer a few of his questions, and not his own concentration level, which was terrible.
"What I'm attempting to teach you, Draco, is the power of knowledge and the ability of being well acquainted with each and every thought that passes through your mind. Am I making any sense at all?" Snape sighed.
"Actually . . . yes. Although I don't see why anyone would ever want to acknowledge their deepest desire." The words had left Draco's mouth before he'd really thought about them. "Or fear . . ." he added a moment late.
Snape narrowed his eyes in suspicion and Draco realized his mistake. "You have been wandering places you shouldn't? That is certainly unexpected behavior."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "So you have been there, too. What did you see in the mirror, Professor? Only if you tell me will I ever admit to what I saw, even to myself. That information could only ever hurt me."
To Draco's complete bemusement, Snape smirked and pulled out a pensieve that Draco had seen a few times before.
"Shall we?" Snape drawled. "Experiencing another's memory will only help what I'm desperately trying to accomplish before holiday, lest your father murder me for even trying."
"Seriously? Yes! I can only imagine . . ."
Snape was still smirking, but knowledge never really could hurt anyone right? Draco wondered over the matter for a moment before accepting.
Five minutes later, Draco horribly regretted his decision. He was spiraling out of a memory of Snape standing in front of the mirror, his reflection flanked by two nearly nude women. The woman on the left had had red hair and green eyes and Draco thought he had faintly recognized her.
The other woman had been Draco's own mother.
"Oh Merlin, I'm going to be sick," Draco complained as soon as he was completely free of the memory.
"Your turn," Snape chucked.
"Fine. But at least tell me who the other woman was!" Draco demanded. "Mine is way worse than yours and I need some sort of compensation!"
Snape actually paused and eyed him for a long moment, but in the end drawled, "it is none of your business."
Then Draco was having his memory pulled away and was soaring into the nasty brain world water once more, standing next to his godfather as he watched the events of last night unfold. For some reason, the dragon's call wasn't in Draco's memory, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Soon Draco tensed as he watched himself creep into the room which held the mirror. A few moments later and it was clear for both of them to see again, Draco's greatest desire was to be . . . best friends with Harry Potter.
Draco groaned as they returned once more to Snape's office.
"This is going to be much harder than I thought." Snape went back to sighing.
"What do you mean?" Draco frowned.
"I take it you think about Potter a lot . . ?"
Draco shrugged and looked away. "I don't see what that has to do with anything."
"Draco," Snape started, suddenly all business. "Have you read the book I gave you? And all the passages I wrote in your journal?"
Draco nodded.
"We should be ready to start today then . . ."
Draco resisted the urge to start shouting inarticulately. "Yes. Let us. Please."
Snape suddenly pointed his wand and cast a spell Draco had never heard before that caused Draco to feel like his mind was ripped wide open, but as soon as it started, it was gone.
"Did you feel that, Draco? That is the spell your father uses to see what's in your mind."
"I don't think so," Draco pointed out superiorly.
"Of course, you would never feel it unless you had as many years learning to look for it as your father spent learning to hide it. However, you do not have to feel it to keep him out of your mind, though once you learn to feel it, things will become much simpler."
Then Snape had stood and pulled out his chalk, and Draco was the one sighing, taking out his notes and quill. It was an hour later but Draco had learned the relationship between Legilimency and Occlumency, and all the magical properties used when performing either. Draco still wasn't quite getting it though, how he was supposed to do magic without any type of spell, and he'd asked Snape as much.
"Do not think of Occlumency as a spell, Draco, when it is a magic as natural as breathing, and exhausts very little of one's magical core. It's all mental."
"So . . . you were saying that if I have all my thoughts in order they will be easy to hide?"
Snape didn't look impressed, but he didn't look angry that Draco had put this together either.
"There are two ways of learning Occlumency," Snape explained. "The get-out-of-my-head-I'm-an-angry-Gryffindor way, or the right way . . . you will be learning the right way. It is not enough just to keep your father out of your mind. You must also keep your father from knowing that you have used Occlumency at all. So the answer to your question is both yes and no. I'm saying that if you have all your thoughts in order it will be easier to hide only that which needs to be hidden."
"Oh . . . that . . . makes sense. You mean . . . like a place."
Snape frowned. "I don't see-"
"No. No," Draco cut off Snape. "I see it now . . . a manor!"
Draco lurched to the ground and began digging through his bag, until he found the book he was looking for, a copy of Meditation Around the World that he'd checked out from the library a few days after this whole endeavor with his godfather began. He'd completely forgotten about it, but he just remembered something particularly interesting he'd seen in the table of contents.
"Ah hah!" Draco cheered, and swiftly took his exit without another glance in his professor's direction.