A/N: This chapter is short, but the next one is at least twice as long, promise.
The Seventh Year
Chapter 3
The Sign and the Declaration of War
THIS ROOM THE PROPERTY OF BENZ SQUARED.
Draco glared at this blazing sign partially obscuring the portrait leading to the shared head common room. Erin and Marisa had been subtly pranking him left and right for the past month or so, without reprieve. He was surprised that this sign hadn't gone up sooner.
His words on the Hogwarts Express had been harsher than he intended, but he had made up for it that night at the feast and then when they had arrived at their dorm. She had been shocked and he had been shocked because he hadn't expected one of his and Erin's peaceful moments to come upon them so suddenly and so easily. Those moments were rare. Not that he disliked them, they were just rare. Normally he was a snarky git, which was something he was good at, and she was a sarcastic fireball, which was something she was good at.
But after a bit of a rough summer, a lot of things had changed. His world had changed. His family had changed. He had changed.
He hadn't had to change as much as some people had thought, though.
He was sure that he could continue being himself, even after most of his fundamental beliefs had been debunked. His godfather had quietly taught him the opposite of everything his father had ever told him, so it hadn't been so hard, but losing his godfather had been.
In fact, losing his godfather had been very hard. But Severus had warned him. And after the long weeks of reflection, everything had clicked into place.
He was finally allowed to let go of all the nonsense that hadn't exactly made sense. That had caused a radical shift in his consciousness. He didn't need to hide from his father or the Dark Lord anymore. He didn't have to pretend to be a cold-hearted bastard. He could just be a bastard who had definite feelings poking through his bastardness, which was what he definitely preferred. It was much less work.
In any case, things had changed. And he had decided, right before coming back, that he wanted to change his relationship with his not-quite-friend Erin Benzene as well.
He'd have to be careful, however, but he had known that when he had made his decision. Erin was smart, and she was cautious. Her strange sort of support and caustic remarks last year were very much appreciated and very much needed at times when he didn't think he could pretend anymore, or he would explode.
In those weeks of reflection, after the world had seemed to end and then had risen like the phoenix from the ashes, he had realized he missed her. After he saw her crying in the Great Hall, very near to his godfather, he hadn't let himself do more than rub her back before walking away, because he figured he would break down too, and he wanted to do that in private. He had missed her when they stopped talking a few weeks before the Battle of Hogwarts, and he had missed her after she had appeared to help him get away from a couple of Death Eaters and then quickly disappeared again.
That was when he realized that he was in trouble.
And he knew she wouldn't trust him if he messed up, even if it was just once. At least, that is what he told himself, because he really did think he only had one chance.
So he was enduring these ridiculous attempts at agitating him. And he knew it was starting to get to her.
He had never been good at unending patience, and she knew that. She was very skilled at aggravating him. But he was suddenly able to tolerate her antics, because he knew it was worth it. But it was still difficult, so difficult, like yesterday, in the dungeons. . .
Draco's cauldron was heating up and his potion was starting to smoke ominously for no apparent reason. He jumped back quickly, hurriedly attempting a counter-curse or anything else that would be a help to him, but to no avail. He managed to just clear the flames as the cauldron exploded, and he shielded his eyes. Thankfully his potion had not been flung across the room, merely incinerated. He refrained from throwing a dirty look at the Benzene twins, who were unsuccessfully hiding their smirks and laughter. He took a deep, steadying breath and forced himself to calm down, to look merely perplexed and completely unruffled.
After apologizing to Slughorn and convincing the professor to let Blaise share his cauldron with him, he calmly finished off the assignment and began to put his things away, his senses on high alert for either of the twins.
He was not disappointed. As he was replacing his mint leaves in the cupboard, Erin brushed by and murmured, "Having some problems managing your potions, Malfoy?"
"Accidentally set off an Incendio Charm, I think," he replied calmly, ignoring how his whole body was tingling, and how he felt as if being near the Head Girl was some sort of adrenaline rush.
He turned to catch her gaping at him in shock, and he smirked, shrugging slightly. "Too bad really," he added, before deliberately sliding closer and leaning over her to replace the last of his porcupine quills.
"A shame," she managed to get out. "Normally you're so controlled."
He leaned back slightly, his whole body tensing, as if ready to spring. He just couldn't help but tease her when she was so close to him, it was too tempting. He smirked, "Control be damned when you're in the room."
"What is that supposed to mean, Malfoy," Erin growled, trying to move past him.
He slammed one hand into the wall next to her shoulder, preventing her from leaving. "My cauldron wasn't the only thing in the room that was on fire, if you catch my drift."
He had to restrain himself from brushing back her hair, or caressing her cheek, or moving any closer to her. There was a moment as he stared hungrily into her eyes, all of his emotions bare, a moment that hung in the balance as he contemplated devouring her with all of his passion or leaving her to languish, leaving her because there would be time enough for him to get what he wanted, eventually. He made the right decision with great difficulty, and pulled back, leaving her with a dangerously heated glare. He walked away, leaving a very bewildered and flushed Erin Benzene behind.
He would have to be even more careful in the future, if he was going to get his one chance.
He drew his wand and carefully moved the banner out of the way before giving the password (damn Amortentia, he should have picked anything else, something that didn't remind him of Erin, but then again, what didn't remind him of Erin?) and proceeding into his—not the Ravenclaw twins'—common room.
There was no sign of the so-called Benz Squared, and he made it to the door that opened up to his staircase before seeing anymore graffiti. But when he opened that door he saw, plastered in neat columns on his door, walls, and stairs, little Benz Squared logos with lovely slogans to match, proclaiming the superiority and reigning authority of the twins. All with Semi-Permanent Sticking Charms too, so they wouldn't be coming down for a while.
Draco just stared in shock for a moment, confused as to how they had pulled this off in the short amount of time they had had between classes and his absence.
Impressive.
He stood for a moment, deep in thought. Then, with a wolfish grin, he darted into his room to grab a thick, leather binder. He opened it briefly, and was immediately satisfied by what he found there. He was suddenly very grateful for his mother's impulsive scrapbooking.
He bounded down the stairs, across the common room to the Head Girl's door, and easily evaded her half-hearted charm work so that within minutes he was standing in the middle of Erin's, and now Marisa's, bedroom. Although this presented numerous opportunities for a hormone ridden male, he reminded himself that he had One Chance. He buckled down to his task, ignoring any distractions that the room might have offered, and it didn't take him long to find what he was looking for: a photo album, containing all kinds of pictures of her and her friends. Obviously not made by her, because she wasn't organized enough or conscientious enough.
Marisa didn't like pictures, so this must have been made by their mother. Draco found that ironic for some reason. He didn't know how much time he had before the twins came back, so he opened his leather scrapbook and began muttering spells under his breath.
This was a war, and he intended to win.
A/N: A weird and brief interlude into the mind of Draco Malfoy. Cherish it, it may never happen again XP.