Draco
.
.
After spending most of the night together, Pansy, Blaise and Theodore went to bed in the Manor in guest rooms next door. They were so exhausted that all four of them fell asleep with their clothes on, except for Pansy who had borrowed one of Draco's Quidditch training shirts to sleep in.
The next day they didn't emerge until 10am, and after a quiet breakfast, Blaise and Theodore went home. Pansy, on the other hand, stayed for lunch with Lucius and Narcissa, who discussed the previous night's party without noticing that neither Pansy nor Draco had actually attended the reception.
"How's Hogwarts going?" asked Lucius suddenly, addressing Pansy and Draco. "Did you manage to be friends with that Potter guy?"
"No. Certainly not." exclaimed Draco.
He explained at length who Potter was and the people he hung out with. His father listened attentively, a rare thing that gave Draco a sense of importance that he loved. He explained everything that had happened since the beginning of the year and at the end, Lucius shook his head, distressed:
"Then this boy is as despicable as those treacherous Weasleys. If you ask me, you have to be genuinely deranged to be in the kind of profession that Arthur Weasley is in, and not only is he the laughing stock of the wizarding world, but he isn't even paid properly to do it! No, he does it for passion! Muggles! The world isn't what it used to be, when the Dark Lord ruled justly and punished those who deserved it."
Narcissa nodded slightly in agreement, but no one rebounded on Lucius' words, which remained quite etched in Draco's memory, though.
His parents had never really explained the Dark Lord's time, or even who he was. He just knew that he killed impure people, like muggles or people who got in his way. He was more of a vague threat, a dark memory in history, and yet his parents often praised him.
Later, in the garden of the Manor, he and Pansy were lying on the ground, in the only square not occupied by frost. Pansy had pulled on a jumper over the T-shirt Draco had lent her and was silently gazing up at the sky. Draco kept glancing at her.
"What?" she asked sharply as she felt Draco's gaze on her.
"Nothing."
"You look upset about something. What's going on with you?"
"I was just wondering... Your father, does he talk to you about the Dark Lord often?"
Pansy frowned but answered honestly:
"Yes, from time to time. He often says that the world would be a better place if he was still around. And now that we've explained who Potter was hanging out with, they're all convinced he killed the one person who was managing to keep order."
"You really think Potter managed to kill him?"
"I don't think he managed to produce magic, maybe it was channelled into him and he managed to protect himself, or maybe he had some kind of spell on him." she said. "I don't know what to think of this Dark Lord, he used to scare me a bit when I was little. My dad used to use him as a threat when I did something stupid."
"Yeah, me too. But they never really explained who he was, just his name once in writing that they burned afterwards and a series of threats if I dared say anything bad about him. It seems that even though he's dead, my parents are still afraid of him..."
"My father's not afraid." Pansy asserted, as if defensively. "He dreams he's coming back, he thinks he's not really dead and that maybe we'll get a sign soon that he's back. I hope not, he sounds really creepy, even if it is to restore the good. The most important thing is that we keep a low profile, don't talk to the unclean bloods and don't shame our names."
"I only talk to Slytherins, anyway." Draco said. "And a bit to Granger, at the beginning of the year, but she decided to become friends with that stupid Potter, and Weasley, and even Longbottom, so I stopped."
Pansy turned her head towards Draco with round eyes, suddenly completely shocked:
"What? You were talking to Granger?!"
"Yes? Why?" he asked.
"Draco, that's dangerous! How could you risk doing that?"
He frowned and stood up, resting his elbows in the grass to get a better look at Pansy, who was staring at him as if it was the first time she'd ever seen him.
"What do you mean?"
"Don't tell me you don't know? Damn it, Draco, Granger is a muggleborn!"
He widened his eyes in turn.
"What? But no, that's not possible."
"Well, it is! Everyone knows that, Draco."
Draco thought about the interactions he'd had with this girl. He remembered the first time he had seen her, on the train. She was pretty, and very different from any girl he had ever seen before. Her long curly hair, her red cheeks, her constantly changing temperament. Was that why...? Because she was a muggle-born?
It was the first time he had ever seen one in his life. He never thought she could be, he had always heard of them as dirty, sick, illegitimate and stupid. Granger was none of those things.
"But how can she be first in class if she didn't know about Hogwarts?" he asked.
"No idea." admitted Pansy with a shrug. "The teachers must feel sorry for her because of her parents. They're muggles!"
He fell back into thought, trying to imagine the Muggle parents who had raised Granger. How could that be?
"That's why she looks constantly..." he began.
"Crazy? Yes, probably." cut in Pansy.
Draco wasn't going to say that, he was going to say burning, as if she had a fever, as if she was always emanating the warmth around her that made her so different from the icy faces around him. He did not correct Pansy, however. She continued to stare at him, bewildered:
"Draco, you can't be seen in the company of Granger. It's dangerous. Imagine how your parents would react if they found out... You must never be seen with her."
Draco rolled his eyes frankly: to hear him say it, you'd have thought he'd proposed to her in front of the entire Great Hall.
"Relax, I've only spoken to her once or twice, and after I realised that she was also close to Potter and Weasley, I cut her off. Now that I know who she is, I'll never speak to her again."
"I should hope not. I can't believe you didn't know about this."
Pansy lay back down in front of the sky and Draco did the same, still puzzled. Finding out about this from Granger gave him all the more reason to hate her. She was inferior to him, except maybe in class, and he could easily outdo her if he wanted to. Now she disgusted him.
He thought back to when he'd accompanied her to post her letter and realised that she'd probably sent it to her Muggle parents and he got goosebumps. Lucius had always forbidden him to talk to Muggle-borns, but he had never mentioned that they could look so much like him.
He'd expected to be able to recognize them a mile away, scarred by disease, but Granger was living proof that everyone in this school was to be mistrusted. No matter how pretty she was.
Hermione
.
.
Hermione spent the rest of her Christmas holiday with Danny and Mary, who had returned from her Christmas with her family. They went to the cinema, the park, the ice rink, and watched films in the Grangers' living room. They even spent New Year's Eve at her house, and screamed with joy when the clock struck midnight.
But as sad as she was to have to leave her loved ones again, Hermione had to admit that she was looking forward to getting back to Harry, Ron, and Hogwarts. When she was at home, she felt like she was completely cut off from the wizarding world and she didn't like that.
Danny and Mary stayed for dinner the night before she left and they said goodbye on the doorstep of her house. Then Hermione packed her suitcase with a few jumpers and her Christmas presents and fell into a deep sleep.
The next day her parents took her to King's Cross and Hermione said goodbye to them in the car because they didn't have time to go with her before starting work. She took her big trunk and walked across platform 9 and 10, got on the train and sat in an empty compartment for the rest of the journey.
Wrapped in her mum's colourful blanket, Hermione spent her ride alternating between reading, looking at the landscape and eating the sandwich her father had made her that morning. No one bothered her until she reached Hogwarts, except for the Slytherin gang who stopped in front of her compartment to give her looks of disgust.
When she arrived at Hogwarts, Hermione was cold, but very happy to be home. She rushed up the stairs to find Harry and Ron in the Common Room. There she found them playing an Exploding Snap. When she arrived, they both looked up:
"Hermione!" they exclaimed with a smile.
"How was your Christmas?" she asked.
"Not bad." said Ron with a shrug.
"Not bad? Great, actually! I got presents for the first time in my life. Thanks for the Chocolate Frogs, by the way." Harry exclaimed with a smile.
"My pleasure. You've devoured them all already, I suppose?"
"No, you bad mouth !" Ron snarled, "We have presents for you too, we didn't dare send them by owl because of your parents."
"I send letters to my parents every week, they're used to owls now."
He handed her two packages with the same gift wrap. The first was a feather from Ron, a long white one, much like the one they had practiced the levitation spell on in Spells on Halloween. The other package was Harry's, which contained vanilla shortbread.
"Thank you very much, that means a lot to me."
"Now we have to tell you what we did over the holiday..."
Hermione knelt down next to them to listen to the story of their holiday. She had expected to hear some discoveries about Nicholas Flamel, but was disappointed when she realised that they had learned nothing about him. Instead, Harry told her about his discovery of the Mirror of Erised, and especially about his nightly escapades.
"You've been out in the corridors three times?" she asked, scandalized. "What if Filch had caught you?"
"I received a gift that allowed me to escape it." replied Harry with a twinkle in his eye.
He went up to the dormitory and came back down with a strange cloth rolled into a ball. Harry handed it to her, along with a piece of parchment. When she took the silver cloth, she realised it was very light.
"An invisibility cloak?" she asked.
"How do you know?" asked Ron. "Have you seen one before?"
"No, I read about it in a book in the Library. Who gave you this?"
Harry handed him the piece of parchment : "Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you."
Hermione frowned.
"Do you know who this might be?"
"No idea. I wish I knew."
"Your father had it... Maybe your father knew something and you can use that cloak to figure out what it is?"
"I don't know..."
Hermione ran her hand through the fabric, and it disappeared. She gasped. No matter what she could read or learn every day in this castle, she was still shocked by magic, even after months of studying it.
Hermione
.
.
After several weeks of being around the same people, you really start to get to know them. Hermione became more familiar with Ron and Harry, and seeing them every day helped her to understand them.
Harry had a sense of bravery that she had never seen in anyone else, he was braver than any Gryffindor she knew. He was engaging, sensitive, and a good listener. He couldn't stand injustice, perhaps because he had suffered it all his life in his Muggle house, where he often complained about being bullied. Hermione couldn't understand how someone so viscerally kind could be mistreated.
Ron, on the other hand, was a bit more self-effacing. He was funny, mostly cynical, and teasing. He was also extremely clumsy, often tactless, but his intentions were always good. He was admiring, and fit perfectly into Harry's shadow. He was also shy, and very loyal. They were both different, and yet got on extremely well, as if they complemented each other.
Hermione found it hard to fit in at first, but then they managed to integrate her, and she didn't want to leave. She wanted to get to know Harry and Ron and grow up with them.
She spent most of her days with them, from her meals to her classes. The only time she was alone was in the Library. Despite her insistence, Harry and Ron seemed determined to spend as little time there as possible, only during emergencies, such as the search for that famous Nicholas Flamel.
She didn't particularly mind, she liked this time to herself where she was never disturbed to read or do her homework. She spent every evening of her first week of school to make up for the time she had lost on holiday.
On Thursday nights, after dinner, Hermione sat at one of her favourite tables in the Library. Over the months she had built up a mental ranking of the best tables, and this was becoming her favourite. It was round, quite far back, but gave a perfect view of the front aisles and the entrance. It was also under a huge window that looked out onto the Quidditch pitch, where she could see Harry practising with the rest of the team for the next match.
Hermione was studying a particularly difficult paragraph on Uric the Oddball from the last History of Magic class when she felt a lingering gaze on her. Looking up, she saw the icy eyes of Draco Malfoy, next to an aisle. He looked annoyed, but she had no idea why. Unable to concentrate again, she blurted out to him:
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
He didn't take his eyes off her but seemed surprised that she was calling out to him. He approached her and, clearly unable to hold back any longer, ranted:
"How dare you talk to me?"
"I don't know, you've been looking at me funny for a good five minutes, you obviously had something on your mind." she said dryly.
"Last time, you said "I think you'll soon understand why I can't be your friend, Malfoy." Is that what you wanted to talk about?"
"That what?"
"Your Muggle origins."
Hermione sighed and closed her book.
"Yes, I assumed you would find out eventually. Who told you?"
"What does it matter? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I knew it would change your view of me, and I guess I wanted to prove to you that someone's qualities didn't depend on their blood."
"Because you honestly think I was going to want to be your friend when you belong to... those people?" he said, looking around, afraid he'd be caught talking to her.
"I think you have no idea what it's like, and are just talking based on what your family tells you about mine. Do you want me to explain it to you?"
"Explain what, Granger? I know exactly what you are. I don't need your explanation. You disgust me."
And he walked away, leaving Hermione frozen in her chair. No one had ever said such a cruel thing to her while remaining perfectly calm like that. Only his grey eyes were revolted with anger.
She decided to put it out of her mind and put a definitive end to any potential friendship with Draco Malfoy by putting her notebooks back in her bag. He really was horrible, with all his prejudices that he didn't even understand himself.
Hermione made her way to the Common Room where she was pleased to see Ron talking with Dean. She approached them and he turned to her:
"Back so soon? Have you finished all the books in the Library?"
"No, I got tired of doing my homework. What are you doing?"
"Not much."
"I'm going to bed." announced Dean, getting up. "Good night!"
Ron turned to her and offered to play wizarding chess. Hermione agreed and they began to play, Ron was so focused on his pieces that she realised that she would probably have no chance of winning. The first few rounds proved her right: Ron managed to take his queen and two knights.
As he pondered a new strategy, listening to his pieces debate the next tactic, Hermione thought about what Malfoy had said to her in the Library. "You disgust me." She knew that many wizarding families thought that Muggleborns didn't deserve their places here, but Hermione was thoroughly convinced that Malfoy didn't really know what he was saying. He had to repeat what his parents told him over and over again.
She looked at Ron and thought to herself that he was a Pureblood too, but he had never made a single remark about her blood. She opened her mouth to tell him what Malfoy had said to her in the Library, but Harry sat down next to them, a little panicked.
"Wait, don't talk to me right now. I need to concen... What's going on?" asked Ron when he saw Harry's face.
"Snape's going to referee the next game against Hufflepuff, Wood just announced it to the team during practice."
"Don't play." Hermione said at once.
"Say you're ill." Ron advised.
"Pretend to break your leg." suggested Hermione.
"Really break your leg." said Ron.
"I can't." replied Harry solemnly. "There's no substitute Seeker in our team. If I forfeit, Gryffindor can't play at all."
Hermione almost rolled her eyes at hearing such a fuss over only one sport when everyone turned to the door of the Common Room. Neville had just walked in, falling to the floor on his stomach. His legs were stuck together and he was groaning in pain on the floor.
Hermione got up to help him, ignoring the laughter of the other Gryffindors, and pulled out her wand to undo the spell. Neville struggled to his feet and she led him to Harry and Ron's table.
"What happened?"
"It's Malfoy." Neville replied weakly. "I ran into him outside the Library. He told me he was looking for someone to practice that spell."
"Go see Professor McGonagall. Tell her what happened !" Hermione suggested.
"That would get me into more trouble." he muttered, shaking his head.
"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."
Hermione couldn't blame Neville, she wasn't brave enough to carry over what Malfoy had to her either, not even to Ron.
"I know I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy already told me that..." Neville groaned.
Harry handed him a Chocolate Frog and comforted him:
"You're worth twelve of Malfoy. It was the Sorting Hat that decided to send you to Gryffindor, wasn't it? And Malfoy, where is he? In stinking Slytherin!"
Neville smiled a little as he opened the chocolate. Hermione admired Harry for his ease in consoling those who needed it.
"Thanks, Harry. I think I'll go to bed now. Do you want the card? You collect them, don't you?"
Harry took the card as Neville returned to his dormitory. Hermione looked back at the chess set and her poor pieces that didn't even dare to help her beat Ron.
Then Harry let out a shrill exclamation that startled her:
"I found it!" he whispered. "I found Flamel!"
Harry hurriedly read Dumbledore's card:
"I've found him! I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here, listen : Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel"!'
Hermione jumped to her feet as soon as he had finished reading:
"Stay there !"
She rushed up the stairs to fetch one of the books from her bedside table and came back down with it, to the puzzled looks of both boys.
"I never thought to look in there! I'd taken this book from the Library a while ago for a bit of light reading."
"Light ?" commented Ron.
Hermione waved her hand at him to stop talking and looked up the chapter she wanted.
"I knew it! I knew it!"
"Are we allowed to say anything now?" grumbled Ron.
"Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!'" she exclaimed.
"The what?"
"Honestly, don't you two read? Look at this."
She handed them the book so that they could read the paragraph in question. In the end, they seemed to finally understand what this discovery involved, and what Fluffy kept under the trap door. And their theories about the Philosopher's Stone managed to take Malfoy right out of Hermione's thoughts.
Draco
.
.
"I'm not coming, it's too cold."
"But Pans', this is one of the most important games of the year!"
"You say that about absolutely every game, Draco. Go with Crabbe and Goyle, we'll meet up afterwards."
Draco sighed and headed for one of the towers overlooking the Quidditch pitch while Pansy returned to the castle, bundled up in her Slytherin scarf.
Crabbe and Goyle were following closely behind him, but none of his other friends had agreed to come and watch the game. Nobody seemed to like Quidditch as much as he did.
When he arrived, his bad mood evaporated when he saw Weasley and Granger in the stands. He was going to take it out on them while he waited for Hufflepuff to win the match. He gave Crabbe and Goyle an evil grin, and they must have understood his intentions because they too came towards them. Draco elbowed Weasley who turned sharply:
"Sorry, Weasley, I didn't see you."
He smiled at Crabbe and Goyle and the three of them sat down behind Weasley, Granger and Longbottom who were staring stubbornly at the game. The match began, Potter zoned in on everyone looking for the Golden Snitch.
"I wonder how long Potter will manage to stay on his broom. Anyone want to place a bet? What do you think, Weasley?" commented Draco.
He ignored him. Draco was barely watching the game, he was having far too much fun laughing at Weasley who looked so stressed at the thought of his Potter getting hurt. Granger was distraught too. Draco noticed that her fingers were crossed in her lap and she was rocking back and forth slightly as she stared at Potter.
"You know how they pick their players for the Gryffindor team?" continued Draco to further rile up Weasley who looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown. "They go for people they feel sorry for. For example, they took Potter because he has no parents, the Weasleys because they have no money and they'll probably take Longbottom because he has no brains."
Longbottom's flushed face faced him:
"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy."
Draco burst out laughing with Crabbe and Goyle.
"Well said, Neville." said Weasley without taking his eyes off the game.
"If brains were made of gold, you'd be even poorer than Weasley, which is saying something." Draco chuckled, amused.
Draco noticed that Granger was ignoring him royally, he wasn't even sure if she had heard what he had said as she was so fixated on the game. It pissed him off. He wanted her to react and get mad so he could throw an insult in her face, it wasn't as satisfying when her back was turned.
"I'm warning you, Malfoy," Weasley threatened, turning to Draco. His face was as red as his hairline. "One more word and-"
"Ron!" exclaimed Granger suddenly. "Harry!"
"What? Where?"
Draco looked up and saw Potter swooping down, his arm outstretched.
"You're lucky, Weasley, Potter must have seen a coin on the ground." Draco scoffed.
He had expected anything but to be thrown violently to the ground. Weasley had lunged at him like a cannonball and he had time to punch him in the jaw before Draco pushed him with all his might to roll under the bleachers and hit him back. Crabbe and Goyle hadn't had time to see anything either, and soon Longbottom stepped over his row and smacked Goyle's nose fiercely.
Draco stopped Weasley from throwing another punch and instead aimed for his nose, which he felt split in two under his fist. He groaned in pain and blood spurted from between Draco's fingers. In the few seconds that he stared at the blood on his hand, Weasley had time to hit him again, this time in the eye, and Draco fell backwards with a cry of pain. Crabbe knocked Longbottom down and he fell to the ground miserably, next to Draco who struggled to his feet.
"Ron! Ron! Where are you?" shouted Granger above him, jumping up and down. "The game is over! Harry won! We've won! Gryffindor takes the lead in the championship!"
Draco sat on one of the bleachers and spat blood as he grumbled, trying to ignore the joy of Granger beside him as she hugged Dean Thomas. He didn't even want to watch the game, he'd figured out that Potter had caught the Golden Snitch.
"Go! Go to him, Ron!" shouted Granger at Weasley who hurried down the tower stairs, his nose still bloody but with a smirk on his face. Crabbe and Goyle followed him at a run.
Granger's smile faded when she saw Longbottom at her feet, unconscious. She knelt beside him and looked for the person responsible. It didn't take her long to see Draco, sitting on one of the bleachers next to him.
"What have you done, Malfoy?" she squeaked, taking the boy's head in her hands.
"It was Weasley who attacked me, and Longbottom thought he was going to beat Crabbe and Goyle by himself, the idiot." hissed Draco through his teeth.
Granger didn't look angry, but rather disapproving. Her long curly hair was caught in her scarf and her cheeks were redder than ever.
"You caused it!"
Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, anything, a threat, an insult, but he had no idea what to say to her. He met her chocolate eyes and furrowed brow and suddenly found himself unable to think of anything that might anger her, or hurt her. She finally looked down at Longbottom again and pulled out her wand to help him, and Draco stood up to avoid being seen talking to her.
He returned to the Common Room without Crabbe and Goyle, who had disappeared after the Quidditch match. Draco was furious, already at Weasley for hitting him like that without his knowledge, at Potter for another unintentional feat, but also at Granger, without knowing why. The look of disappointment on her face had unnerved him, he would have preferred to see rage rather than that reproachful look she'd given him, as if he were a child to be scolded.
He could feel the anger rising in him, and his deep breaths were struggling to calm him down.
When the door opened, Pansy barely turned her gaze to him.
"Already?"
Blaise and Theodore, sitting next to her, suddenly stood up when they saw Draco's face. Pansy turned and saw him, and she let out a cry of surprise.
"Draco!"
"What happened?!" asked Blaise, alarmed.
Draco sat down in the chair in front of the fire. His three friends turned to him, he must have really had a deformed head for them to look at him like that.
"Weasley. We got into a fight."
"Why?"
"I laughed at him, and all of a sudden he jumped on me. He hit me in the jaw and the eye, and I broke his nose."
"Where are Crabbe and Goyle?" asked Nott. "Aren't they supposed to be here for this kind of situation?"
"No idea. Longbottom threw himself at them. He got knocked out and taken to the infirmary."
Nott and Blaise giggled at this, but Pansy had a blank face. She had the same reproachful look as Granger, but Pansy's was much more icy.
"Was it really worth it, Draco?" she said. "To get your ass kicked for three seconds of fame?"
"It's no big deal." he replied coldly.
"No big deal?!"
"She's right, Dray, you do look like shit." commented Blaise.
Draco took the small mirror that Pansy handed him that she used to apply lipstick and contemplated the damage. He had a large black eye that extended to his temple and almost prevented him from opening his eye, and a large yellow bruise on his jaw.
"I hate him." he said, handing the mirror back to Pansy.
"Yeah, we thought we understood." commented Theodore as he lay back on the couch.
Draco
.
.
Draco was just waiting for the moment when he could get his revenge on Weasley and Potter, and that day came very quickly. He was on his way to Transfiguration class with Pansy when he heard Granger's voice exclaim:
"...trouble. And it will be nothing compared to the trouble Hagrid will get into when someone finally catches on to what he's done."
"Shut up!" interrupted Potter.
Draco stopped short. He waited for them to move away before leaning towards Pansy:
"Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Granger!"
"No? Give me your essay, I haven't had time to finish mine."
Pansy rummaged through Draco's bag looking for his scroll of homework parchment but Draco demanded her attention again:
"Pans', they said that stupid Hagrid did something stupid."
"And?"
"And if I found out what it was, maybe Potter and his gang could get into trouble!"
"Oh, seriously Draco? Wasn't fighting with Weasley enough for you?"
"No, I want revenge."
Pansy rolled her eyes and began to hastily copy her homework before entering McGonagall's class. Draco asked her:
"What class do the Gryffindors have this morning?"
"Herbology."
He didn't ask how she knew, Pansy had a knack for knowing everything about the school. She was able to tell someone's life story in great detail without ever having spoken to them. They entered the room and Pansy proudly placed her parchment on her table while McGonagall called out Accio to retrieve their homework.
Draco didn't listen to a word of the class and as soon as the castle bell rang, he quickly packed his things and ignored Pansy's sigh as he rushed out the door. He headed straight for the gamekeeper's little hut, and looked for a window where the curtains were not fully drawn.
As he had predicted, Potter, Granger and Weasley were sitting around the wooden table. Draco tried to see what they were looking at, but Hagrid blocked his view. Suddenly, he saw sparks burning lightly on the surface of the table, and Hagrid shifted enough to the right that Draco could see what had caused it.
He couldn't believe it. It was a dragon, an all-black baby dragon with big orange eyes.
A dragon?! He couldn't believe his eyes. This time he had them, he was sure he could take all four of them down. He tore himself away from the sight of the creature when Hagrid noticed that the curtains were half-open and rushed to the castle to tell Pansy what he had just seen.
Draco
.
.
This time, even Pansy was excited when she heard Draco's discovery, which he whispered to her in Defence Against the Dark Arts class. That evening, he rushed to repeat his tale to Blaise and Nott in their dormitory, and they were both as scandalized as Pansy:
"A dragon? But that's forbidden by the Wizarding Convention of 1709!" exclaimed Nott.
"You don't need to show off your knowledge, we all know it's forbidden." scoffed Pansy who was sitting on Draco's bed (she was always in their dormitory at night until they went to sleep.)
"That Hagrid is such an idiot." commented Blaise as he folded his clothes. "His hut is made of wood."
"Good point. What are you going to do now?" asked Nott to Draco.
"First, I'm going to have some fun, mentally torture them by showing them I know their secret." he replied with a smirk.
"And then?"
"I don't know yet. But if I do it right, Hagrid can get fired, and I'll get my revenge on Weasley. Hopefully they'll go down too, both of them."
"Three." corrected Pansy. "Granger was there too, right?"
Draco nodded. He'd forgotten that Granger was facing expulsion, too preoccupied with Weasley and Potter's fates. How could she be so stupid? Didn't she know how dangerous dragons were, even though she was from the Muggle world?
For the next few days, Draco amused himself by watching the faces of the three Gryffindors twisted with apprehension as he walked by. They probably knew that he had discovered their secret, but Draco was sure that they had not been able to get rid of the dragon because they still looked as distraught as ever, and spent a lot of time in Hagrid's hut.
One morning, as Draco was eating breakfast with Blaise, he pointed to the Gryffindors' table with the tip of his fork:
"Look at Weasley's hand."
Draco raised his head and looked at the redhead's arm, and saw what Blaise had seen. His hand had doubled in size, he was struggling to hold his cutlery to eat, and he was even paler than usual.
"It's the dragon, don't you think?" asked Draco, excited.
"It sure is." interjected Nott as he, too, looked at Weasley's hand from across the room. "A Norwegian Ridgeback's bite, I'd say."
Blaise and Draco turned to him as he took an orange from the tray in front of him, oblivious to the shocked looks of his friends.
"How can you know that?!" asked Blaise.
"Because I'm more cultured, and intelligent, and gifted, than you." he replied quietly. "You will never beat me, Zabini, even after hours and hours of study, I will always be better than you."
Blaise replied in the same tone and they argued over their grades while Draco remained focused on Weasley's bite. He didn't want to miss his chance to expose him, he had to act fast, before Potter could come up with an idea to clear his name.
During the afternoon's Flying class, Weasley's hand had turned a horrible greenish hue and didn't seem to be deflating, so he went to the infirmary at the beginning of class. Draco seized his opportunity and went to the infirmary instead of going to the next class.
"What's this for?" asked Madam Pomfrey when she saw him coming.
"I've come to visit Weasley. Er, Ron. He has a book I need to borrow for the next class."
The nurse stared at him strangely through her glasses, but let him pass. He approached the bed with a malevolent smile. Weasley was lying there, his hand prominently displayed on the sheet and now so swollen that his fingers were barely visible.
"Malfoy?" the redhead asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to borrow your book. Or at least that's what I told the nurse." Draco said in a sly voice. "What did you say to her to make her let you in like that?"
"A dog. It's a dog that bit me." muttered Weasley as he put his 'hand' under the duvet.
"A dog? And she believed that?"
"That's what happened."
"Hm, I don't think so, Weasley. I think it's more like a dragon, a baby dragon, that your friend Hagrid wants to raise because he's as dumb as a tree trunk. And I'll go and tell Madam Pomfrey about it right now."
He pretended to walk away but Weasley called him back, annoyed but mostly distressed.
"You don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy."
"On the contrary, I know exactly what I'm talking about. You're being really stupid, following Potter around. What do you expect to get in return? Money? Recognition? Stop dreaming, Weasley. Your family's as pathetic as that git Hagrid."
"Shut up Malfoy, or I'll have you..."
Weasley reached for his wand but he could not get his aching hand out of the sheet and groaned in pain. Draco laughed wryly:
"What, are you trying to hurt me? You're not going to do anything with that hand. You couldn't even produce a single spell before this..."
Draco arched a mocking eyebrow and picked up the book from Weasley's bedside table before leaving the room under the stern gaze of the nurse. He returned to the Common Room, gloating.
"What are you smiling about? And where have you been?" asked Pansy who was lying on the sofa in front of the fire.
"I paid a little visit to Weasley. His hand is a mess, and he looks absolutely panicked that I'm going to give away his secret."
"Is that what you're going to do?" asked Blaise who had put his feet up on the chair in front of him.
Draco pushed off his best friend's legs to sit in his usual chair and gazed at the fire crackling in the hearth of the fireplace.
"I don't know yet." he admitted.
"What's that book?" asked Nott, picking up the book that Draco had stolen from Weasley in the infirmary.
"The book Weasley had, I took it to pretend to borrow something from him in front of Pomfrey."
Nott took the book and examined the cover. Anyone who spent more than five minutes with Theodore Nott could come to the conclusion that he had a passion for books. He always had one on hand, and it was hard to see him as anything other than a bookworm since he was at Hogwarts. He was perhaps as much of a Library buff as Granger, and that was an understatement.
Draco stared resolutely into the fire, thinking of a strategy to expose Potter and Weasley in the most beautiful way possible.
"Draco!" cried Nott.
"What? You want to show me another paragraph about a troll that existed two centuries ago?" snarled Draco, who had just been interrupted in his mental plans.
"No, you idiot, look what was in the Weasley book!"
Draco picked up the letter that Nott had found wedged between two pages. He read it aloud and realised it was a letter from yet another Weasley, probably one of his older brothers:
Could you take the dragon to the top of the highest tower in the castle at midnight on Saturday? My friends will meet you there and take advantage of the darkness to carry the dragon away.
Draco's eyes widened as he read this part.
"How are they going to transport a Swedish Ridgeback or whatever at midnight?" asked Pansy, ignoring Nott who obviously wanted to correct her on the naming of the dragon.
"They're crazy, they'll get caught," said Blaise.
"Good for them. I'll personally see to it that they do." decided Draco.
None of his friends replied, and they quickly changed the subject, but Draco could only think of one thing: getting Weasley and Potter on Saturday at midnight.