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Dance of the Faithless	By : Seraphix Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 2354 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Firsts

Draco made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. It was early, barely six in the morning, and since the first lessons only started at eight, it was almost certain that he would be the first one in the hall.
It wasn�t that Draco was a big eater, or a slow one, even though he did have an appetite smaller than the average teenage boy his age. Perhaps this came as a result of him meticulously watching what he put in his mouth to keep himself slim, because as a dancer, he simply couldn�t afford to be lumpy. He wanted to get to the hall early so as to watch everyone come into the Great Hall. He wanted to see who had changed, and who hadn�t; if there was any new faces, or even better, eye candy for the year. And so he settled down at the end of the Slytherin table nearest to the entrance of the Great Hall, and begin to nibble at the chocolate chip muffin that had appeared in front of him as well as his wait for the first students.
The Ravenclaws were the first to arrive, with their oversized book bags and their noses buried deep in the books in their hands. It was no act of stereotyping that the Ravenclaws were bookworms, and from Draco�s point of view, they really hadn�t changed since he left the school. He laughed snidely under his breath when he saw one of the younger ones walk straight into the table and topple right over it, and then started to cry when he realised that his book had decided to join his porridge as part of his breakfast. A quick scan across the ranks of bookworms told him that one of the seventh years had tinted his hair (mmm�looking good) but the bob that a fifth year girl was currently sporting�well, it just didn�t do it for her.
If Draco ever opted to be truthful to the world, the house that he looked down upon most would be Ravenclaw. They were intelligent, you could give them that much, but while Slytherins were criticised for being ruthless to gain power, the Ravenclaws were actually the same, except they did it for knowledge. Thus, amongst the followers of Lord Voldemort, there were actually almost equal numbers of British wizards from the two houses. But the main difference between members of the two houses was that when they got what they wanted, the Slytherins knew what to do with what they had, while the Ravenclaws didn�t.
Contrary to popular belief, majority of the younger Death Eaters from Slytherin actually chose their paths out of their own free will, and not because it was an expectation of the family. They were Pureblood and from old families, proud of their own heritages, but as with anyone else born in the same era, they held free will above all. They used the power that they gained to accomplish things they believed in. Ravenclaws, on the other hand, more often then not ended up as the worker bees in the Death Eater hives. They did the dirty work, as well as the boring work for the Dark Lord, because while the Slytherins found proper joy in torturing Muggles, the Ravenclaws did it because the information they were given, or the knowledge they were provided with, told them that this was what they were supposed to do. They were smart, hell yeah, they were, but they were soft willed and easily manipulated. To top it off, their need to show of whatever they had learnt made them all the better use as servants.
And for this, Draco looks down severely on them.
Then the Hufflepuffs begin to appear, and settled slowly at their table, not unlike how snow flakes drift down to settle on a park bench. They turned their heads up to the ceiling and stared, mouthing silent "Ooohs" and "Aaahs", which was a sure sign of a late night. Draco knew for a fact, that the Hufflepuffs were honestly not a stupid lot � they just didn�t know it themselves. One could say that they chose to "apply" themselves in another manner, and that when they did come in possess of a certain knowledge, they didn�t flaunt it. Rather, they shared it. The Ravenclaws were good with homework, the Slytherins were good at being sneaky, and the Gryffindors were good at being stupidly brave, so the Hufflepuffs have to be good at something, right? The truth was, there was something that this particular batch of Hufflepuffs were good at.
Throwing parties.
Yes, you heard right. They were famous for throwing the most rambunctious, crazy, and enjoyable parties in the history of Hogwarts. While the house rivalry went on strong between green and red, the yellows had long believed in mergers of the houses. So at every party they held, there were no house colors, no Quidditch fights, no brawls. They threw out anyone who tried to instigate inter house fights (Ron Weasley ranks first in number of times thrown out). Another wonderful characteristic of their parties was that anyone above the age of fourteen was considered equal. Which basically meant that since the Hufflepuffs only invited those fourteen and above, it was drinks and weed all round. They held parties for every imaginable reason, but it was obvious that the most important reason of all was that they LIKED holding the parties.
In fact, word has gotten out that they were now arranging one to celebrate Draco Malfoy�s return to the Wizarding fold.
Aah. Finally. The arrival of the Slytherins. You could see a system here, thought Draco. The Ravenclaws were trying to squeeze in as much study time for the day as possible, thus they start early; while the Slytherins turn up precisely on the dot at seven, which leaves them with sufficient time to eat, turn up on time for class, yet not compromise on their sleeping hours nor study hours; as for the Hufflepuffs, well, they were exactly what their parties were like. Spontaneous, subjected to the whim of the house. The Gryffindors were late. But, that, would have to wait to be examined when some of them do finally turn up for breakfast.
The Slytherins have changed, as most of them were now ignoring him instead of fawning all over him. He had received a good share of pats on the back the previous day after taking down the snitch as well as welcome back murmurs, but now, no one was directing any conversation at him. He wasn�t surprised though. In his opinion, Slytherins weren�t bad people. Especially not at this age. As mentioned earlier, they were just people who made controversial choices to get what they want. They were definitely not teenagers with a tattoo stamped on their arms and gifted with their birthright of serving the Dark Side. Undeniably, when they were younger and more impressionable, common beliefs (Uncle Voldie Rawks!) and common goals (Die stupid hairy big cat!) led to their hierarchy where Draco sat comfortably at the top of the pyramid because of his father�s connections. But now with his father�s demise and the loss of power in the Malfoy name, it was pretty obvious why he was being ignored. Money wasn�t an issue here. Power was. The Slytherin families were all rich, filthy rich, maybe not all as much as the Malfoys, but none of them were in serious need of cash. Thus, before they could be certain of Draco's current political status, it was better to remain neutral to him, that is, ignore him.
It's not easy to talk to a Malfoy and neither fawn over him nor start a fight with him.
Then the members of his own clique appeared with Blaise Zabini in the lead. Well, this was slightly unexpected. It meant that the power in the Slytherin house currently lay in the hands of the black haired boy. Whether that was a positive sign or not was an entirely different matter. Blaise had been one of his more trusted acquaintance before his departure, but where his loyalties lay at the moment was unknown to him. From what he knew, the Slytherins from his year had mostly chosen to lay low the past year, taking Draco's disappearance as a sign of weakness from the Dark side.
Right now, Blaise had a funny look on his face, the look that he wore before a match, or when McGonagall was giving out marked test papers.
On the side of appearances, Pansy had improved a great deal. The flat nose had given way to a nice, sharp one, while the baby fat that was originally piled up at the sides of her face and gave her a vague, pug-like look, was gone. In his memory, Pansy was slightly annoying with her endless chatter and the leech-like manner she enjoyed hanging on his arm in, but she was nevertheless, one of the few people he could tolerate having around. He used to just ignore her unless he needed a date for some function, but now� Draco flashed her a slight smile as she approached the table. He had spent the last year growing up, and one thing he learnt was that it paid to be polite to girls. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Vincent and Gregory had obviously been working out, and their layers of adipose tissue turned into well defined muscles. Still, their faces were reminiscent of a phrase a fellow dancer used, "Cannot Make It," or in short form, CMI. Li Min was always one for strange phrases. Blaise sat himself quietly next to Draco, catching the grey eyes with his own brown ones. It was an unspoken question, and Draco gave his answer wordlessly as well.
Blaise's originally nervous face broke into an uneasy smile, while his tensed posture relaxed into a more at home one.
"Morning, Draco."
"Same to you."
And coming in last, but definitely not the least, the Headmaster's pets - the Gryffindors. Don't get him wrong. Draco has always been thankful to the old man for his help, but honest to god, one had to be blind to not see the blatant favouritism. 10points to Longbottom for bravery in standing up to his friends? Utter crap, rubbish, tosh, a load of hot stinky bollocks. The Slytherins spent their lives first standing up against the entire school, then the entire Wizarding world. Do they get any points for it? Nooo... Just look at the shit that Snape goes through for the Order. All he gets in the end is a bunch of students stealing from his private stores and then calling him a greasy git behind his back. It wasn't really his fault that his hair was greasy. When you had to face a creature as ugly as Lord Voldemort for such a long stretch, there comes a point in time when you realise regardless of how huge your honker is or how much your hair looked like an oil tanker decided to take a piss on it, you'll still look better than a psychotic bastard who decides that red contacts and skin coloured lipstick are in fashion. Plus the fact that being a teacher in the dungeons deprives one of all social life, just put the equation together and you get Snape. So it�s only right to say that while Gryffindors are awarded points, the Slytherins like the other houses, have to earn them.
All teachers favour their own houses, it's a fact of life. Everyone understands the idea of not airing your dirty laundry in public, so all punishments were done behind closed doors. McGonagall would give some Gryffindor a session of trophy polishing as detention for failing to hand up homework, but for Slytherins, they would get a session of trophy polishing, but with Filch staring down, or even worse, breathing down on them. Snape knows the extent of his own hair grease and the dampness of the dungeons, so he doesn�t bother to get Filch to help out.
But back to the Gryffindors. Granger appeared to have relaxed her hair over the holidays, and looked much better. She should have done it a long time ago, mused Draco. Draco loved going to the hairdressers when he was living with Muggles. He especially enjoyed the ones with the masseuses, and the feeling when he came out completely relaxed. Potter, he had seen enough of him during the close up "hand to hand" combat they had the day before. Turning his attention away from the Gryffindor table for a moment, he poked his own cheek gingerly before wincing. Potter had a mean right hook. The weasel had grown some more, if it were possible. Standing somewhere around six and a half feet, he looked down on the entire school population status wise. As for the rest of the Gryffindors, they never caught Draco�s attention in the past, so he didn�t have an image to compare them with.
One trait of Gryffindors that Draco noticed over the past years was that they weren�t afraid of being late, which was why they were always the last to appear at the Great Hall for breakfast. They weren�t afraid of any punishment or scolding that the teachers could bequeath them. Sure, they looked sheepish and sometimes, close to tears, but nothing has yet to be able to deter them from sleeping in again the next morning. (Except the wrath of one very angry Hermione Granger.) The Slytherins didn�t find the need for unnecessary pain, so they avoided being late. Hufflepuffs were always on time because they just were, while the Ravenclaws did it because the school told them to do so. Draco lifted his cup of tea to his mouth, and tuning out the noise around him, he finished off his breakfast while keeping his eyes on the Gryffindor table.
***
Ron felt his hair sizzle as he watched Hermione's eyes follow the Ferret's every action. So what if it was his first official day back at school? It didn�t warrant the full concentration of Hermione Granger, aka his Girlfriend, on his breakfast habits. It was unnerving. After all, Ron was the one with the whole family feud thing going on with Malfoy, so why was Hermione so fixated on him? At this time in the morning, should a spiteful gaze or a mouthed "I�ll be watching you" complete with the actions suffice? Yet, the girl sitting right next to him was paying Malfoy as much attention as she usually did in McGonagall�s classes. He tried to escape from his current thoughts by replaying the hot, steamy kissing scene from the previous night, the feel of soft lips against his, that sensation of a warm body pressed into his own, hands wandering to forbidden places...
And the rude disturbance of one very annoying Harry Potter.
Harry the kid he could deal with. Harry the hero he could live with. Hell, Harry the hero helped him keep his life. Harry the best friend was awesome, while Harry the chess opponent was a terrific ego booster. But Harry the diva? That could make anyone want to raise a hand and smack him over his head. But thankfully, Harry the diva didn�t turn up very often. But when it did turn up� well, it would suffice to say Voldemort was a righteous young man who had a good goal in his head. And wasn�t there some sort of rule stating best friends were not supposed to throw tantrums when you were at the most incredible moment of your life? Right up there with the "best friends don�t sleep with your girlfriends" rule? Looked like it didn�t apply to heroes. Ron cast a glare in Harry�s direction, only to see his best friend, soon to be EX-best friend following his girlfriend�s example and staring straight after the Ferret as well. The two of them made quite a picture, seeing that they were sitting opposite one another. Harry�s head was practically twisted a hundred and eighty degrees in a bid to keep the blonde in his sight.
And it didn�t really help that he hadn�t had enough sleep from the previous night, what with the grief of losing the Quidditch match, the strength he needed to hold the team up. And, the little voice in his head said maliciously, the excitement that continuously went southward at the thought of soft brown eyes, long, graceful fingers� Okay. So everything else was an excuse, but he really couldn�t be blamed for losing sleep over THAT right? He felt the power of his glare at Harry grow slack, and his eyelids started feeling heavy. The last thing that ran through his mind was, damn, potions first thing in the morning is not good for anyone�s health�

Splat.
Ron sat up straight in shock. He had washed his face this morning and dried it off, so why was it still feeling wet? And there was a smell of tomato and onions in the water today, someone should go talk to Filch about the school�s water supply. Using such water could seriously screw up potions class, and who knows what detention the potions master could deal out, Ron shuddered. And why was everyone laughing? Normally when the boys get to the toilet, everyone�s still too sleepy to even say "good morning". So he opened his eyes to see what all the humour was about and stared straight into�
A piece of carrot.
And somewhere beyond the carrot, was an extremely distraught looking Neville, with a healthy dose of minestrone on his face as well. Ron felt a blush originate from his neck and slowly spread up to his chin, then soon, he was blushing to the roots of his hair. Dean and Seamus were laughing themselves silly, while Lavender was almost bent double with mirth. And Harry and Hermione were still�
Staring at Malfoy?!?
***

Draco sniggered to himself under his breath as he watched the weasel�s eyes droop to a close, then fall face first into the bowl of minestrone in front of him, splashing the soup onto Longbottom sitting opposite him. The weasel then lifted his head up quickly, splattering even more soup onto his neighbours, then glaring viciously at the little piece of ingredient that was currently stuck to his hair and dangling into his right eye.
Draco got up from his seat and picked up his book bag, murmuring to Blaise that he was heading early to potions. Some things never changed. Like the weasel�s idiocy, Potter�s blind courage, and Snape�s greasiness. These were constants that kept the world turning, he thought to himself as he made his way out of the hall.
Or so he thought.
***
Ron stared in disbelief. In a picture framed by a piece of carrot and locks of his own minestrone drenched red hair, his two closest friends were completely oblivious to his current state and were now gazing in a awestruck manner after the blonde. Okay, so if he looked a little closer, he would have seen that Harry�s manner was more of a "I want to kill him" look, but Hermione�s� It was one of longing, almost as though her sight was inexplicably drawn to the Ferret�s back, and thus it was watching his every step as he made his move out of the Great Hall. Some subconscious part in him told him that they were fixed on the Ferret's butt, but that part could go disembowel and hang itself. That was just wrong on so many levels. but Ginny�s words from the previous day kept ringing out in his mind.

"�she was gushing and cooing and shrieking over Malfoy and Harry�"

He could feel his temper boiling up. Ron reached up and pulled the offending piece of vegetable out of his hair and threw it angrily down on the table. The sounds of laughter begin to die down, as the sight of a furious red head taking his temper out on a strip of carrot, as ridiculous as it sounded, was actually quite a menacing sight. He stood up abruptly, and reached for the collars of Hermione and Harry�s robes, meaning to shake them back to reality. But as the fates would have his, just as his right hand was about to close over Hermione�s collar, the girl got up and ran after Malfoy, slipping just out of his grasp. Ron�s hand was knocked aside by her shoulder, and with his left hand stretched straight across the table towards Harry, he promptly lost his balance and fell over onto the table.
Straight into the tureen of minestrone in the middle of the table.
***
Draco heard footsteps thundering behind him as he made his way to the dungeons. A small smile crossed his lips, as he begin to count under his breath.
"Five�four�three�two�"
On the count of two, Draco braced himself for impact, but he still staggered when it hit him proper. He struggled to stay upright, while his hands instinctively went down to where long legs were now around. The soft scent of freshly cut grass in spring invaded his delicate senses, as he stumbled two steps and finally regained his balance, though he looked quite different from what he did earlier. The blonde hair was still in place, the robes still immaculately worn, but now there was a brown haired girl clinging to his back, and to anyone who looked at him now, he was giving her a piggyback ride. He continued his journey to the Potions classroom, as if he hadn�t had an extra brunette on his back.
"Good morning Miss Granger. This is highly improper of a young lady like you, jumping every good looking young man that comes along the way."
Draco felt the figure on his back shake from the giggles that were bubbling up in her.
"Oh, pray do keep your mouth shut, Mr Malfoy. For nothing good really comes from it," came the sharp retort presently, followed closely by a hand whacking him across the head.
"Ouch," Draco saw stars dancing across his eyes. "Hermione, the first thing you say to me face to face, wait, the first thing you say to me face to the back of my head after so long pops my ego AND THEN you injure me? You�re an evil, evil woman�"
"Malfoy, don�t get me started. In all those emails, you never even said a word about coming back, and you just pop up out of no where all smug and sassy and then you beat Gryffindor in Quidditch, then you decide to�"
They had reached the Potions classroom by now, and Draco gently lowered Hermione from his back onto the ground, before turning around and embracing her.
"Thank you," he said softly.
"�beat him up." Her voice lost its reprimanding edge and the look in her eyes softened. "For what?"
"For everything. For being my correspondence in the Wizarding world, for helping me out with my research, for accepting me after what I�ve done. Everything."
"You�re welcome. I�m just glad that you�re back, Draco. At least we can continue our research properly now."
"But you do realise that since I�m back�"
"The war. Yes, I know."
A sombre mood settled itself over the corridor and they separated, and they fell into silence, waiting for Potions to start.
***
"Where the fuck is Snape?! I refuse to be taught by anyone else but him in this class! Especially not by any poncey half wit in a barely decent robe and mmph mmmphhff�"
Draco rapidly shrilling voice was brought down to a muffled noise as Pansy clamped her right hand over his mouth. She twisted a hand into his robes and drag him back into his seat, her horror giving her strength to overpower his squirming and struggling. No one, no one ever makes a ruckus in Potions, no matter who you were. Or at least no one ever made such a din in the class and got out unscathed. Draco, being the Malfoy heir that he was, regardless of where he had been the past year, walked into class, took his usual seat at the front of the room (even though Blaise had occupied it for a while now) saw that the teacher whose back could be seen dimly in the light of the supply closet didn�t look half familiar, and decided to throw a tantrum about it. The person in the closet had been wearing black slacks and a navy blue form fitting robe which ended somewhere mid thigh. And to top it of, there was no sign of matted greasy hair whatsoever.
Bratty Draco she could understand. She had grown up with him after all, and watching the blonde pout after a particular expensive toy was a daily occurrence. But the Draco which she saw this morning was not the Draco she knew. She knew her behaviour used to be quite unsightly around him, but Draco in the past had arrogance and an air of superiority around him, and added with the blonde good looks, she stumbled and fell head first into the category of people who fawned over the blonde when they spoke to him. Willingly, too. Yet the Draco that she saw this morning had grace and amiability added to the package, and this was enough to start her prattling again. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing a sincere smile on his face, or maybe it was the fear that Blaise, who was the leader of the pack now disapproved of him, she hadn�t dared to speak to him over breakfast. When she had stepped into the Potions classroom and saw the seat next to him empty, she had shyly approached it, waiting for his not of approval which came in the form of a nod, before she sat down. It was disconcerting that even though he was skimming through him potions text, he nodded and hmm-ed at the things that she said to him. It had been aimless rambling, sure, but in the past he would have wither told her to sod off or just ignored her. She herself had became hesitant in her speech when she saw his responses, but the appearance of Draco the Brat when he saw the teacher in the closet and his subsequent yelling had almost made her sigh in relief.
The figure made his way out of the supply closet, backing out of it cautiously so as not to topple any of the ingredients in the huge tray in its hands. Once out of the closet though, he fluidly turned around to look at the old newcomer in the class.
"And good morning to you too, Mr Malfoy," Professor Snape said with a smirk.
***
Draco felt his jaw fall right to the ground where his well worn Adidas three-stripes were. His world was currently tilting off its axis, for before him stood a well-groomed Professor Snape. Saying he had changed over the last year was an understatement. For the first time in his life, the old bastard didn�t look like he was a� well, an old bastard. He looked like what he should, a forty-something year old teacher with a lines etched into his face by having to face a whole lot of annoying students everyday.
"Well Mr Malfoy, it�s good to have you back. Do close your mouth. I am quite sure if anything which Longbottom explodes from his cauldron today and enters your mouth, your health might take quite a toil," and he swivelled his gaze onto the boy.
At this, Neville Longbottom dropped his head onto the stone table and let out a little whine of despair. Seven years. Seven long years of potions, and because of the bloody Howler his Gran sent the school after he failed potions in the OWLs, he was still stuck in Potions.
"I find it fit to make an announcement which has been itching at me the whole year and holding one of your fellow students down to extra workload which she does not need. Draco Malfoy," Snape beamed and Draco felt his eye twitch from how disturbing a sight it was, " and Hermione Granger," Snape�s forehead creased slightly and the corners of his mouth took a downward turn, "have both obtained Outstanding results for their Potions in NEWTs�"
Ron nearly fell off his chair at hearing this, while Harry who was sitting next to him was glaring at Malfoy and doodling on his Potions text at the same time. He sputtered in an undignified manner before he started to speak.
"What the hell are you going on about? Hermione is in our year, and the NEWTs aren�t until�"
"Weasley, kindly allow your elders to finish speaking before breaking into stutters in their presence. I believe it�s something called �courtesy�, obviously a concept that you have failed to acquire even as you step into your supposed adulthood," Snape said while glaring at the redhead. "Back to the matter at hand."
"Over the last summer break, these two students approached the school to take some of the NEWT exams for their subjects, and as I am only concerned with what happens within my class, they shall be working together for research this year. Miss Granger, you have been offered an apprenticeship as well as a scholarship in Potions in USA, while Draco, yours is in France. Whether you two wish to take it up or not is really none of my business, but I feel that it is my duty to advice you that it would be better for the two of you, should you wish to take up the offers, to do so only after you have finished your last year good and proper in Hogwarts."
Draco turned around in his seat and met Hermione�s eyes, and they grinned in unison. Of course, as clichéd as it may seem, Ron's sizzling red hair completed the scene. The others looked shocked as well. Draco Malfoy grinning at a mudblood? This had to be a first. Still, it was not like Draco cared about their opinions. Hermione and him had decided to take the exams for Potions and DADA early so that they could go on and focus on research for the war, and they had been waiting for their results ever since. It took the combined effort of Draco and Dumbledore in pulling strings with the school board and the British examination authorities to arrange an examination in the middle of the year, as well as a for the examination to take place in a Fidelius charm protected area. But they had pulled it off, and the month of cramming before that had obviously paid off.
"On to today�s lesson. You�ll be working in pairs on poisons this term, and I�ll be expecting both of you to know how to brew the poison, the effects it will have on the person being poisoned and then later on, the antidote� if there IS one," and the class shuddered at the full force of the wide, leering grin on the professor�s face. "And for the first time in my life, though I�m frankly disgusted by the change in my own behaviour, extra credit will be given to students would develop alternative antidotes."
The class stared incredulously at the Potions master. They were in seventh year and expected to find antidotes?! The smile on their teacher's face really wasn't helping either.
"Now, for the pairs. Besides Miss Granger and Draco, the rest of you imbeciles please divide yourselves into pairs, hopefully with people you trust and can work with. Wouldn�t hurt if your intelligence complemented each others too," the teacher said, looking thoughtful for a moment.
"Today�s potion is called toxicum ventris," and he turned around and begin to write the instructions on the blackboard behind him. "Miss Granger, do put your hand down. You are not exactly eligible to answer questions in this class anymore," he said without even turning around. At the back of the class, Hermione drew her lower lip out in an indignant pout. "And Draco, if you won�t stop that abominable sniggering of yours this instant, I will be giving you detention, first day back at class or not," he added without breaking step.
"Loosely translated, it means �poison the stomach�, and it begins to react with your body when it reaches the stomach, and then spreads down to the intestines, and in these places, it alters the structure of the tissues of these organs, breaking down the cement between the cells, and then your cells will start to fall apart, and eventually, you�ll be left with nothing but a mass of indistinct cells in your stomach cavity." At this point, Snape took a pause in his speech and an almost dreamy look came over his face. The class sat quietly in anticipation of his instructions, when the man broke into maniacal laughter, the kind which you would describe as �an evil overlord wannabe�.
"Well, what the hell are you all staring at?! Get moving!"
The class broke out of its frozen state and there was frantic movement as they scrambled to sit with their partners. Draco sauntered over to where Hermione was sitting to make space for Blaise next to Pansy, tuning out the complains and whines of one very red Ron Weasley. The pathetic noises went up a notch when Hermione actually told the Weasel to �scoot, and let Draco sit�. The Weasel was strangely reminiscent of his namesake as he slinked off to sit with Potter. Draco smirked inwardly.
Potions was swell.
***
Harry was still partly in his diva mood as he set up the cauldron. Horrid, horrid, Malfoy. To steal his limelight again! Snape hadn�t picked on him since the start of the lesson, something which he usually did after he was done with Neville. It was awful, to be bested by the blonde bastard twice in a row, first in Quidditch, then in the potions class where the class was just SO impressed by Malfoy doing so well in his potions.
Notice, my dear readers, as Harry is unable to pick up the fact that one of his two best friends got the same results as the blonde git.
Now that, signals the obvious start of an infatuation.
He lit the fire under the cauldron and begin adding the starting ingredients, mumbling curses under his breath about how he was destined to live his life in the shadow of the dark lord and his evil minions.
"Ron, could you pass me the vial of cocaine? Ron? OEI!" he all but yelled when he realised that the red head was currently ignoring him and the task at hand in favour of glaring at Malfoy, who was standing right beside Hermione as they worked. The Boy Who Lived threw his hands up in despair.
"Okay. That�s it! I�ve had enough of this. I risk my fucking life year after year for your sorry asses and this is what I get?"
Cauldrons bubbled cheerfully, Pansy was describing her new lingerie set to Blaise, Neville completely ignored his lack of a partner as he meticulously measured the distance his ladle was from completing the sixty-eighth clockwise turn, Seamus posed and Dean tried to carve a portrait of him onto the table top with his scalpel, Goyle grunted while Crabbe snorted a reply.
In short, everyone was ignoring Harry.
He say back in a huff, before a look from Snape told him �Finish off the potion of I�ll have you scrubbing the cauldron bottoms every night with your bare hands until Christmas�. That made up his mind to complete the assignment that day for himself.
And to think that he didn�t even have to open his mouth.
***
Hermione leaned back into the sofa, cradling the cup of hot chocolate in her hands. The boys were out at Quidditch practice, and she was waiting for their return so she could, politely putting it, speak to Ron about his behaviour. Hermione Granger was, and is, a smart girl, and a nice one as well. She wasn�t judgemental, and she most certainly didn�t compare people. Because if she did, she wouldn�t like what she saw in the mirror, wouldn�t like the people she lived with, and everyone would be stupid.
That�s right. Instead of "I see dead people", it would be "I see stupid people".
But she couldn�t help comparing today. To be more precise, she hadn�t been able to help herself from writing compare and contrast essays between her boys and her study partner in her head. He was refined, they were coarse. He was graceful, they were, to be frank, clumsy. At least on the ground. In the air, it would be justified to say that Harry was more graceful than Draco, at least before yesterday�s match. He had a fashion sense, they didn�t. He was naturally smart in all aspects, while they weren�t. Give credit where credit�s due, she has always told herself, and so she had devoted an entire paragraph in commenting on Harry�s bravado and Ron�s ability at strategies. It wasn�t fair to her boys, she knew it, and she called them �her boys�, because she knew they were. They would never part as friends.
But sometimes she couldn�t help but imagine if it were four of them instead of only three. Maybe Ron would get even better in chess because Draco enjoyed it too, maybe the standard of their results would be much better with the help of the blonde. Or maybe Harry would finally admit to being gay, after all these years of dating girls and getting out of their beds high and dry.
And maybe You-Know-Who would have been gone earlier.
Drawing herself out of her sombre thoughts, Hermione allowed a smile to grace her lips when she recalled Potions. She had worked with Draco on a direct assignment from the Headmaster, and the theme today had been � drum roll please � fireworks. They had spent the lesson at the bench right at the back of the class, developing magical firework potions for the old man, and it included creating explosives from herbs. It was quite a lesson, as after they had managed to create something similar to gunpowder, Draco decided that it would be funny to use it to launch things at their classmates. Before she could stop him, he had fired a newt�s eye straight into the back of her boyfriend�s head, and when Ron had turned back to yell at him, he fired another one of his creations into the ceiling, resulting in a beautiful firework in the shape of a white rose that gradually turned pink and finally red, and drifted down to earth as rose petals. The class, in its state of amazement had stared with their mouth wide open, while Draco had sat back into his seat and started giggling hysterically behind his hand. That was when she realised that the rose petals were falling into the simmering cauldrons while everyone was thinking he was some sort of genius at the art of making fireworks. Strangely, Neville, who had been directing all his attention to his potions brewing was the only one in the entire class who saved his poison by covering it with his potions text. He had also been oblivious to the rose and everything else not within an inch of his cauldron.
Even worse, was that Draco actually KNEW what would happen to the poison that everyone was brewing after he had cast the firework.
He had timed his little antic at the point just before the class had put in the catalyst, arsenic, for the poison, and just before the first rose petal fell into the cauldrons, he transfigured his pen into a wide brimmed umbrella and sheltered himself and Hermione form the shower of potion that rained through the class.
A shower of kissing potion.
It made everyone who was sprayed by it grab wildly at their partners and start smooching them passionately, with complete disregard for anyone else around. Snape had jumped up, yelled himself silly before slipping on a puddle of the potion and falling on his bum squarely into the puddle. He had then spent the next fifteen minutes kissing his own reflection, which was in a cauldron bottom that had been in his sightline. The blonde boy next to her had almost laughed till he was sick, howling with the kind of laughter that you normally hear in a kindergarten. Of course, being Hermione, her first reaction was to be horrified, but as she watch her boys suck faces, she couldn�t help but start chuckling as well. As kissing, besides the sucking noises, and the occasional disturbing moans, or the clanging of metal in the case of Snape, was a relatively quiet activity, and the fact that the dungeons for the seventh years were quiet isolated from the rest of the school, no one else walked in on the spectacle.
When everyone else was kissing and oblivious, Draco had grabbed the rose firework he had created and said to Hermione cheekily, "Well, our task is finished. I say we go turn in the final product to the taskmaster!" With that, he dragged Hermione out of the classroom towards the Headmaster�s office by her hand, careful to avoid any contact with the potion. When he was at the door, he suddenly turned back.
"Silly me. How rude was I to forget to leave a note to the Professor to explain our disappearance."
And when they finally left the classroom of kissing people, the blackboard read:
GONE TO HAND IN OUR ASSIGNMENT.
And in smaller writing:

Love is in the air. Don�t swear and pollute it.

About thirty seconds after they had left the classroom, the clanging sounds produced by Snape and his reflection fell silent. Draco had whispered at her to run, and as they ran, they could hear the buzz of noise that grew louder rapidly, polluting the air of love in the classroom.
Draco had changed. He had changed so much from the torturous brat that he had been, to the young man that he was today. During one of the breaks in the year Draco had disappeared, she had gone with her parents to watch a modern dance performance. Just imagine her surprise when she saw the blonde dancing, and damn, was he good. At first she thought she had been hallucinating, but it turned out that when Draco danced, magical folk like her could see the waves of magic pouring off him. It was, clichéd as it seemed, pure magic to watch him move. You felt as if you could see his magical aura just flooding off him. Later on she had asked her parents if they saw anything, and had found out that for Muggles, they felt inexplicably drawn to the emotions that the blonde dancer was trying to portray with his moves. Unable to help herself, she had somehow transfigured her ticket stub into a bouquet of roses without her wand. It was the first time she had ever done wandless magic, and she had tossed the bouquet right at Draco�s feet when he took his final bow.
He had stepped off the stage on his own accord, approaching her first for forgiveness, then asking if she was interested in being his study partner. She saw the change in his eyes, and accepted the offer without hesitance. She knew that studying could be done alone, but being out in the Muggle world without access to knowledge sources like the library made things difficult. Studying with the Slytherin was like a dream come true. It was the work companion she never had. He was meticulous in his work, eager to learn and had the depth of thought that her boys never had.
Speaking of her boys� well, Ron had pulled quite a surprise on her when he asked her to be his girlfriend. She still blushed at the thought of the snogging session in the corridor. He had certainly waited long enough, and she was extremely thankful that he did it finally. She had been about to give up on him after waiting for him for more than half her life at Hogwarts, but now that he had made his move, the only thing she heard in her head when she saw him was �hot, sexy kisses�, and then she would blush scarlet. Well, that was another plus point about Ron, except it couldn�t be put down in her mental essay.
See, without kissing the other two boys, there was no information for compare and contrast. Hermione sniggered to herself.
In front of her, the screen of her magically modified laptop lit up.
"Bingely bingely bong beep! You�ve got mail!"
Hermione leaned forward and clicked on the Inbox link.

To: hermes@magix.com

From: drancingdragons@dungeons.com
Hey Hermes.
Just wanted to say goodnight.
See you tomorrow. =)
XOXOX

Draco

Hermione sat back with a smile, and finished off her hot chocolate.

~~~~~~~~~~
Well, that's the new chapter up. Apologies for the long
wait, but this had to be re-written four times over and over again before I was
satisfied. Reviews would be much appreciated!

Until next time...

XOXOX

Seraphix
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Dance of the Faithless