Year 4.2

Journal,

I got a rather unsettling letter from Father today. Apparently he still has a "remnant" (his word) from the war and it's "acting up". Can't imagine THAT being any good. In the post script, Mother encouraged me to begin lessons with Professor Snape on occlumency.

On top of that, I had to explain to Zabini and Nott AGAIN that I had been watching Krum at the yule ball, NOT Granger. (I still need his autograph to complete my collection of professional seekers.) I was simply stunned when they arrived because I couldn't believe he would bring somebody like her.

Then I explained to them that I'd met with Krum in the library since then and explained the whole thing to him. Now he knows to stay away from her.

Besides that, I made a discovery when I found a rare beetle with an abnormal aura of magic. It was Rita Skeeter. I used her to share about the turmoil between the champions and even encouraged Parkinson to talk down Granger a bit. There's no way they'll still be asking me when they read what I did to her in the Prophet.

Surely everyone will have moved on from this by the time spring arrives.

Journal,

We went to Hogsmeade this Saturday. I need to replenish my jelly slugs stash and Crabbe insists that I owe him a shot of fire whiskey since his is out. Not my fault...he shouldn't offer if he doesn't want people to partake. Anyways, Rosemerta is rather sweet on me so it shouldn't be difficult to get a discount.

Who should we run into on main street but the boy-who-is-always-in-the-way Potter and his two cronies.

Apparently, Weasley got another humiliating sweater and a hat to match. They must have just had an interaction with something foul because Granger was practically sizzling with fury while Potter and Weasley were tramping around in their usual gorilla fashion grabbing some last minute sweets from Honeydukes. I sent my mates off ahead, pretending to catch attention on a new broom being advertised, and I noticed Granger muttering off to the side like a lunatic.

["Silly little girl? Who does she think she is?"

"Finally accepted your inner psycho, Granger?"

Hermione's burning brown eyes fix upon him with a frown. "Do yourself a favor, Malfoy, and ferret off."

"Ooh, someone took their fire flakes this morning."

"I'm serious." She crosses her arms looks back over to where the boys were finishing up. Her expression suddenly shutters and her nose wrinkles before she glanced uneasily back at him.

Following her line of sight, Cho Chang can be seen walking past, adjusting her scarf. The vision narrows on Potter's red face as he stares after Cho before returning to Hermione. Her expression is pinched, her eyes hard. A coldness creeps over the memory even as a dark chuckle can be heard.

"Oh, this is rich. Pining after your champion, Granger? The jealousy game not working out quite as you thought?"]

I thought she might slap me as she had in third year, but instead-

[Granger sighs in exasperation, as one might for a small child.

"Malfoy," she starts, "I am aware of your desire to be involved in every aspect of our lives, including ratting us out to Rita Skeeter." She hisses the name like a curse. "I am also aware of this strange infatuation and obsession you have with beating Harry."

The view rears back, but Hermione holds up a hand.

"No matter the reason, let me be very clear." She steps closer, the scent of flowers stings through the memory. "If you make fun of Harry, or hurt his chances with Cho in any way, I will find out." Her gaze narrows. "And you will answer to me."]

Journal,

A couple of hours ago, Theo came trouncing into the common room with six stoppered bottles and a wide grin. He asked us if we wanted to play a "game". I should have known to leave right then and there. After we had agreed to play, he told us what it was.

I can only really blame myself.

In one of our tutoring sessions, I taught Theo how to brew polyjuice potion (because he didn't believe I knew ho to and I had to prove him wrong.)

Inside each of the bottles was a single swig of polyjuice potion with a random stranger's hair included. He expected us to choose a bottle and then spend an hour (give or take) as somebody else. We would then be given a challenge and the winner would get a prize. An aged bottle of Ogden's firewhiskey smuggled onto campus by the Weasley twins themselves. He refused to tell us the pool of strangers, insisting that the mystery is what made it 'fun'. Who did he think we were? Gryffindors?!

Crabee, Goyle, and I were ready to walk away when old, idiot Zabini started talking about how he was going to use the whiskey to earn the favor of all the Beauxbatons.

Well, we couldn't very well walk away from that. No honorable snake could. So you see...we had to.

Bottom's up.

As expected, everything went to sh*t.

First of all, the people we had changed into were all Gryffindors. (Theo said it was random, but I don't believe him for a second.) Blaise turned into Ron Weasley, apparently his potion tasted like butterbeer that had been left out for a day. Vince turned into the muggle-born Dean Thomas. It was funny to watch him sprout up to the Gryffindor's height. Greg was the pyro, Finnigan, and Theo became Longbottom. That left me as perfect, boy-who-draws-attention-by-walking-in-a-room saint Potter.

We didn't ask where Theo got the hairs. We didn't WANT to know.

Secondly, our assignment was to break into the lion's den and return with the most Gryffindor item we could get our hands on. Nott had his discretion to determine the winner.

Flipping an hour glass, we all went our separate ways. First thing I did when I was alone was transfigure my tie. Couldn't be walking around with Slytherin colors if I was going to pass as Potter, but why would I ever give the others that kind of advantage? I knew the Gryffindor common room was somewhere on the seventh floor of their tower, so I headed that way using the secret passages I'd discovered in years previously. The issue came when I arrived on the floor because I knew they entered through a painting that required a password. (Longbottom's voice carries quite well in the great hall.)

You know, Professor "Crackpot" Trelawney talks about luck. We had to write a paper on the factors in a wizard's control over fate...I may have to reread that chapter.

["Harry?"

With a spin, the view settles on Hermione Granger walking up the hallway with a stack of books held in her arms.

"What are you doing out here? Are you working on the egg problem again?"

"Er," Draco rambles. "Yeah."

"Did you figure out what you're going to do, then?"]

Potter still hadn't solved it? Despite the fact that the task was DAYS away?...Figured.

["I think so, but I'm still mulling it over, y'know?"

She gives a long suffering sigh, then indicates down to her stack of books. "I've just been picking up all these books that could cover underwater spells. We could look through them together for a bit?"

"Sure." He looks around aimlessly for a moment of awkward silence then asks, "Do you need help with those?"

Hermione looks confused for a moment, then surprised.]

Merlin's beard. Someone needs to give Potter and Weasley some healthy whacks over the heads if she's surprised by THAT.

["Oh, that would be lovely, thank you."

With a little bit of a struggle (because Draco is trying not to touch her) they end up sharing the stack evenly between them, though Draco was sure to grab a few extra.

Hermione looks substantially happier. "I'll get the portrait hole then, shall I?" And Hermione turns to a nearby painting Draco hadn't notice before.

"Good evening, Lady," she says.

"Cutting it a bit close, dear," the woman in the portrait responds.

Hermione sighs. "I know...there were just so many options and I didn't want to miss out on the one with the answer. You know how I lose track of time in the library."

The woman nods. "Better than most." Then her eyes turn on Draco. "Potter. Another late night? Thank you for appearing around the hallway this time, I'm tired of being woken by your sudden appearance. Just like his father." She mutters the last part.

"Er...you're welcome?" Draco shrugs.

"Hungarian Horntail," Hermione states clearly and the lady swings out, almost smacking Draco in the face.

"Watch it, Harry," Hermione giggles, stepping in ahead of him.]

Blaise brought back a pillow with the house crest, Vince brought back a red mug, Greg got a torn piece of the wallpaper, but nobody contested that I had won when I returned with the great Hermione Granger's hair scrunchie. She'd taken her hair down somewhere between 'Working Wonders with Water' and 'Tricks for Taking the Plunge'. I hadn't thought I'd spend the entire hour studying with her, but the full bottle of firewhiskey on my bedside table (next to the red and gold hair tie) declared to everyone that it was a lucrative hour spent.

I also found out the cat I'd been studying with was Granger's cat, by the name of Crookshanks. Half my trousers have orange fur on them at this point because of that foul creature snuggling on my lap, though I've no idea how he's been able to find his way into the Slytherin common room.

Journal,

The second task was rubbish.

The champions were sent into the lake while we stood and watched NOTHING happen for an HOUR in the FREEZING COLD. It wasn't until the end that we got to watch the champions emerge. The Delacour girl didn't last more than twenty minutes. We had to wait for Diggory to even figure out what was happening: people they cared about had been stolen. Cho was Diggory's target, Krum resurfaced with Granger...and Potter's was Weasley. Even though he was well outside the hour, the boy-who-the-rules-don't-apply-to was still awarded second place.

For a hero complex that should have proved he was an idiot.

Bloody Gryffindors...

That tied him with Diggory going into the final task. I'm missing quidditch for THIS? Absolutely ridiculous.

Journal,

There were definite highs and lows of today. I'll start with the lows then, shall I? Mother always says to end with a flourish.

Lows.

I knew...but I didn't think while I was talking to Skeeter...I was angry. It was an annoying start to my morning to see Granger cry. Everyone's been saying the most horrible things about her. Only I'm allowed to say horrible things about that monstrous, flower-scented, Gryffin-swot. She was missing for all of our morning classes and I overheard that she'd been forced to go to the hospital wing. I couldn't believe the boys hadn't gone after her when she'd run out of the great hall. What kind of friends do they call themselves?

After that, I overheard Granger talking about revenge. That girl is terrifying, mind you. Father says he has nightmares about empty vaults, but I can't imagine anything more frightening than a vindictive woman.

Highs.

The giant (and I MEAN giant) oaf actually had a decent lesson today. My niffler, whom I named Draco jr. because he had the traditional Malfoy blonde hair, was one of the most successful nifflers out there. He was only beaten out by Weasley. (I hope he gets fat eating that chocolate.) Plus, Pansy almost got bit by the things nearly three times. Serves her right, she's been downright nasty to me and my mates since the ball.

We played Theo's game again as well, only the Hufflepuff rendition this time. I never knew they were so close to the kitchens. (Yes, I found the kitchen, obviously.) Crabbe won this time, though I will say it felt far less challenging. All you had to do was ask a Hufflepuff for something and they would give it to you. The worst part was having to spend the hour as stupid McMillan.

Journal,

Exams weren't that bad. I spent the entire week in the library pouring over texts and my notes for the year. Granger was in her usual cubicle on the opposite side. She even asked to quiz with me on history of magic since apparently the wonder twins didn't even bother to take notes. I obliged, but only because I wanted to see if her notes were as comprehensive as mine (they were) or if she had any study habits I wasn't already employing (she wasn't).

Out of obligation, I offered her one of my chocolate frogs. She didn't know who Bridget Wenlock was, but as soon as I explained, she started rambling off the many magical properties of the number seven she'd already read about. Potter and Weasley must be incredibly thick to not have become geniuses with Granger prattling off information all the time.

She must have gotten a new scrunchie. Her hair looks quite a bit different when it's up or braided...and she still smells as she did at the yule ball, like flowers and sweetness. (We didn't talk about it. I could tell she wanted to at one point, but must have decided not to. I'M certainly not going to bring it up. I'm still riding on the train of 'it never happened'.)

((Disclaimer: Dumbledore's quotes taken from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire))

Journal,

Sorry for the delay, it's been a couple days of chaos since the third task. Just like in the second task, the champions disappeared for an undisclosed amount of time. A couple hours later, Potter appeared clutching Diggory's lifeless body. Instead of assuming the obvious that had occurred, Potter started spewing that the dark lord had returned.

It had never been more apparent to me that he had not grown up in the wizarding world. Didn't he know what that meant? Didn't he know what kind of panic that would incite?

Did he even bother to think about what kind of retribution it would mean against Slytherins? I can't go anywhere without being stared at. People move away from me as I walk past.

At least Potter I can explain as being a complete and utter idiot. The old fool has no such excuse.

["Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."]

I was sad to hear the news, truly. I liked Diggory. He was smart, not bad to look at, a good quidditch player...

Then there's Harry Potter. Escape artist extraordinaire.

["Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort. He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."]

Of course you do. You've been honoring him for four years. Not like Potter was just trying to save his own skin or anything. Does Dumbledore care what's happened to the Slytherins since Harry's outburst? Does he care what his announcement will incite?

No. Just Potter.

Honor him? I will not.