Chapter 35 :
Soon, they were on the eve of the event and Snape could only try to drown himself in his barely alcoholic drink. Again.
He had thought himself free of the threat. He had dared to hope- ! And yet...
It wasn't his fault though. Nott had done nothing particularly vengeful in the last month or so. Sure he had glared and growled and he had smirked that atrocious labial distortion of his, but... nothing that would leave everlasting damage. And so, the Potion Professor had stopped being on guard all the time. He had finally breathed in relief, convincing himself that a fourteen years old means of revenge where obviously no more worse than that of a baby kitten.
It was a mistake.
He had thought that now that his snakelings were Malfoy's responsability and that he had defended Potter when the brat was chosen as a Champion, he had atoned for his crimes in Nott's eyes.
Another mistake.
He could feel it now, the thread of Karma hanging around his neck, waiting for the perfect moment to strangle him. His body shivering and covered in cold sweat, his eyelid twitching because of his nervousness, he barely refrained from packing his things at once and flee the country. He knew, deep down, that no place on this plane of existence would be safe from The Devil.
Sitting on his sofa in his private apartments, watching in despair as his glass tumbled out of his fingers, flooding the carpet with cheap Butterbeer, he knew he was living one of his last night of happiness. Soon, the World wouldn't be worth it anymore. He glanced longinly at the crystal bottle enshrined on his shelf, the last he had left of his favorite blend of Nuclear Vodka. But no, no matter how much he wanted to lose himself in its pure and welcoming waves, it was wiser to keep it for when shit truly hit the fan.
Sighing, Snape cleaned up the mess with a curl of his wand. Tomorrow would be the day of the First Task, probably his last safe day on Earth.
Sitting in a corner with his head down, Cedric Diggory could only let out a pitiful sigh. The First Task was incoming and he wasn't ready at all. To be fair, he had only put his name in the Goblet of Fire as a joke, he never expected to be chosen. And it really said a lot about Hogwart's other students that he was. Slumping and curling into a ball, he soon felt someone sit by his side.
"Are you down because Chang is crossed with you ?"
It was Wood. And he sounded as awkward as his arrival made him. Shit. What did the « Being a common teenager » manual said about talking to your crus- Wait. No. Not admitting that.
"I'll have to face a dragon in the First Task." Mumbled Cedric. "Will probably have to get something from it too. I doubt I'll have to fight it outright though since, you know, it's an endangered species."
"Oh."
Yeah. He wouldn't have found anything to say to that either.
"Well, you could try to out-fly it... ?" Tried to advise Wood with doubt in his voice.
"Out-fly a fire breathing flying XXXXX classified beast on a wooden broom... ? Really ?"
Sweet Morgana, did Cedric just sass his crus- Nope. Still not admitting that. Ever.
"Hm... This is hard." Pondered the older Gryffindor. "Let's think about it from a Quidditch perspective, shall we ? You're the only Chaser in condition to score but the Quaffle is in your friend's hand and there is the whole ass opposite team between you and him. So you should... Have the third Chaser of your team play decoy and sneak behind your opponents to discreetly get the Quaffle... ?" He sighed before smiling sadly. "Yeah, no. It won't work for you since you're facing the dragon alone... Sorry I couldn't be more of help to you, Diggory."
Cedric was looking at him, utterly dumbstruck.
"Oliver, you glorious genius !" He exclaimed, kissing his fellow Quidditch fanatic on the lips in his excitement.
"Uh... ?"
"Oh shit ! Sorry ! I didn't- I just-" Panicked the Hufflepuff before fleeing at the speed of light. "SORRYIGOTTAGOBYE!"
Wood was left here alone, completely mystified.
"Weird..."
Slowly, he realized what had happened and a fierce heavy blush coated his face.
"I low-key wish he would do that again though..." He whispered to the surrounding silence.
This evening was getting worse by the second for the young Malfoy. First he hit his poor innocent toe on a table leg. Then he noticed that his magic was going haywire. In the panic that ensued he lit up a Library book on fire -Madam Pince was so going to kill him for that-. Fire that, of course, spread toward a cauldron that Crabbe -or was it Goyle?- left bubbling in a corner. Then the cauldron exploded. Then the room heating system exploded and doused the whole place. Twice.
Exhausted beyond measure and covered in a random sugary slime atrocity, Draco sat on his bed and took a cold, deep breath.
Breath in. Exhale. Recap.
His toe hurt like nothing before, he was slimy and wet and sticky and freezing to his very core, the room was covered in whatever the Goyle-Crabbe duo was brewing, he lacked so much sleep he could probably sue the very inventor of sleeping pills into an early demise, Nott and Potter were making his life Hell by simply existing, he was allied with a Weasley, the whole Slytherin House was full of idiots with no survival instinct, the following day would probably sign the genocide warrant of a whole endangered species he was named after... And he still had to leave his dormitory to put the first years and the Head Boy to sleep. Honestly, the only good news was that his magic wasn't going haywire from Nott-induced-revenge but from stress.
Breath in. Exhale. Stay strong.
Draco mechanically removed the watery sludge from his body with his strongest vanishing and drying spells. Ended up naked. Conjured the most comfortable pajamas ever -it still looked like his uniform because he was too tired to have any imagination-. And sighed in a weary relief. Then he left the room and closed the door on the epic disorder that was now his dormitory, a somewhat shameful and ridiculous glee ailing him. Let the House Elves deal with that. He didn't have to be the only one suffering, right ?
He tried to go downstairs as regally as he could, but apparently he missed a spot of sludge on the sole of his feet and could only tumble and trip his way down. He landed on his butt of course -and it was saying a lot about his day that he saw not landing on his face as a sweet reprieve-. Sighing once again, he stood up and dusted his camouflaged pajamas, only to see his whole House staring at him in disbelief when he raised his head -a shitty day to the end, in short... Wait. Why were they all there?-.
"Well, at last you arrive, Malfoy." Coughed out Anisa purposefully ignoring how messy he was, setting the rule for everyone.
Draco groaned, passing a heavy hand on his face in aggravation. He was starting to get a headache.
"What do you want this time... ?" He whined.
"We want you to stop getting in Our way." She scorned. "The King Himself is moving now, and your pitiful attempts to protect Potter are shaming the Slytherin House !"
"Nott ? Moving against Potter ? In your dreams !" He laughed before snarling. "I'm trying to save you, you despicable bunch of twats ! Don't you feel your magic going out of control ? Your nails biting into your very flesh ? Don't you see your hair leaving your poor empty heads ? Nott isn't moving against Potter, he's moving against you !"
"Again with your nonsense..." Sighed The Scribe in disdain. "You have to face reality, Malfoy : The King will eat Potter alive. Whether you stand with us or not."
"They. Are. FRIENDS !" Screamed Draco out of frustration. "Fuck it ! I'm going to save you lot from yourselves even if I have to beat you to death for it !"
As he took out his wand to summon his boxing gloves to counsel his fellow snakes into oblivion for their insanity, the Head Girl that had kept silent until now jumped to her feet :
"Haa !? Are you ready to die by these words ?!" She threatened sharply while taking out her own knuckle-dusters.
Before they could throw down in a brawl worthy of Godric Gryffindor himself, the entrance of the Common Room opened on a very distressed Pansy Parkinson.
"Oh Merlin, Draco you were right !" She cried in despair. "I saw Nott and Potter sharing snacks near the lake earlier today ! He was smiling ! I nearly died ! They are- they are friends !"
A hush fell on the Slytherin House, every eyes widening in stupor and turning toward her in abject horror.
"Ha !" Cackled the young Malfoy in schadenfreude. "I totally told you so !"
AN : Okay. It is now my headcannon that to hold a position of importance in Slytherin you need to know how to brawl better than Gyffindors!