Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Warrandice ❯ House Unity ( Chapter 2 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
AN: I forgot to mention it in the last chapter because I`m a bit of a noob, so I'll do it now as I don't want to get sued and have the IRS come and repossess my house. I'll go back and add this in to the previous chapter as well:
Legal Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J K Rowling and not me… I'd like to repeat, not me, I don't own Harry, Draco, Luna…. Heck, I don't even own Dumbledore. The only one to own Dumbledore was Snape. Oh, snap…. Yeah, probably shouldn't have put that last part in… oh, well
Snape also uses the term “Dazzle us”… not mine Helen Mirren's character says it in Teaching Mrs. Tingle… great movie folks
The reception for the first chapter was really awesome… I posted it at midnight (that's Australia time… We do things differently Down Under) and when I checked it the following morning it'd got thirty hits… in the space of seven hours I was very impressed and proud. (I like to believe that the people who opened up the page actually read it as opposed to just getting a paragraph in, going “F**k it, I couldn't be bothered concentrating on this tripe” and then promptly closing the window…)
Thanks for that, `kyootnshort'… I'll try to moderate Luna's insanity. I have a tendency to get rather carried away ^. ^;
(But I personally believe that's what'd be going on in her head)
Thanks José for the kind words of encouragement
And thanks to kelberts for mentioning the Draco-Luna pairing XD
Still keep the reviews coming, this writing machine runs on praise and coffee… and money as well, money's very important ;)
Oh, and another thing that my friends (Lalia and J8 forever) pointed out:
Luna is a year level down from Harry, Hermione, etc. in the book, but in the first chapter I mention that she's in the same year and is in Griffindor… this is purely for the dynamics of the story and has nothing to do with the fact that I may have forgotten…. *cough* Lets say she skipped a year… Or they were all kept down, lol…
SO I SHALL REPEAT: LUNA HAS SKIPPED A YEAR AND IS NOW IN GRIFFINDOR!! I mean… when you think about it, that's what fan fiction's all about, isn't it?? Bending the rules and such?? If you don't like it just read the real thing…
I guess that sort of makes this an AU now….
(Heads up: sorry about the profanity but it seemed necessary and things may get a little steamy…okay, like, PG rated steam…. so only a little.. And only briefly… just a general warning.. I'll stop blathering and get on with a story.. Does anyone read this thing anyway? Probably not :S)
And one last thing (I promise this is the last) for all those who are reading `Second Chances,' the second chapter is coming… it's just that my school friends kept asking about the next chapter of Warrandice so I updated this first.
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Quick Recap:
Harry cleared his throat, sobering slightly.
“You are, aren't you? A couple, I mean.” His words hung in the air.
“I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, we were waiting for the right moment.” Murmured Hermione, staring at her feet.
Harry looked from Ron to Hermione, letting the betrayal sink in.
“It's okay I guess.” Harry said with sincerity he barely felt himself. “I mean, the three of us have faced Voldemort before, so what`s a secret between friends… right?” He plastered a false smile on his face matching those of his two friends.
The train shrill whistle sounded, signaling the imminent arrival at Hogwarts Station
They made their way back to the compartment to ready their effects.
Draco smiled. He'd jumped into an empty compartment within earshot and had heard the entire conversation with mounting glee. He now possessed a powerful weapon in his arsenal... Now how to use it?
He turned the charm around in his pocket. His smile darkened
This year wasn`t turning out so bad after all…
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Chapter 2: House Unity
“Sagen sie mir nicht, class Friede ausgebrochen ist.
Don't tell me that peace has broken out”
- Brecht, Bertolt, `mother courage'
- Brecht, Bertolt, `mother courage'
“… And I hope that this will be the start of a wonderful adventure for each and every one of you. That you will thrive in this fertile environment…” The old coot droned on, while thoughtfully readjusting his half-moon spectacles.
Draco sighed dramatically; he was once again wedged uncomfortably between Crabbe and Goyle in the Great Hall.
The Sorting Hat, having just been taken away, saw the new students taking up residence at their respective house tables, receiving kindly slaps on the back and handshakes from their senior peers.
Draco took more interest in enchanting his cutlery to dance around his plate, having witnessed this pomp and ceremony enough times for it to become dreary and trite.
Besides, he had more important things on his mind than the first years.
He reached into his robes and withdrew the charm for the umpteenth time since he'd got off the train. Draco fisted the dried vegetable and glanced over to the Griffindor table.
He spied her easily enough, her white blonde hair standing out like a bright beacon.
She was sitting next to that simpering fool, Longbottom and directly opposite The Wonder-Trio. Draco willed her to look up and was rewarded, instead with Hermione's ugly scowl. She raised her wand and before Draco could grasp her intensions, his cutlery had fallen to his plate with a loud clatter.
All eyes in the hall turned to him and Dumbledore paused in mid-sentence.
Draco froze like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. For what seemed like an eternity there was no sound whatsoever. The silence was deafening and all Draco could think about was all the ways he intended to disembowel that despicable Mudblood.
He put the charm back inside his robes.
Eventually, Dumbledore cleared his throat and resumed his speech.
“And, as I was saying…” Draco snorted derisively as he watched the scatterbrained fool try to recover his train of thought, “To more important matters… As you all know, the enmity between the four houses here at Hogwarts has become painfully apparent over these past few decades.” Dumbledore stared over his glasses. Some students squirmed guiltily. “It has been brought to the attention of the Ministry and myself that this bitter rivalry can no longer continue.
In these dark times,” this elicited a few sniggers from the Slytherin table, “We must look to you; the young witches and wizards, to set an example and give hope to those with none.”
Draco wondered if the old bat's mind-numbing litany was putting anyone else to sleep. He made the mistake of glancing back to the Griffindor table. Potter, Weasley and Granger sat with rapturous expressions on their faces that only succeeded in setting off Draco's upchuck reflexes. Doltish Mountain trolls; taking everything that spewed forth from the old codger's mouth and believing it without question.
So gullible.
So careless with their trust.
His lip curled in disgust.
“That is why we have thought it best to introduce a new system of education. One that encourages house unity instead of animosity. New class seating plans have been drafted that seat a student with a member of the opposing house, for example; A Griffindor will be seated with a Slytherin, Hufflepuff with Ravenclaw.” A rumble of disagreement spread through the assembled students. Dumbledore stood calmly waiting for silence, as if he had anticipated a similar response. “Quidditch matches and the house and cup will remain, however, house points will be awarded for public displays of cooperation and togetherness between houses.”
He pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose.
“We hope that you can take to the new Hogwarts itinerary with the maturity we know you are all capable of.” Draco rolled his gray eyes, resting his chin in his palm
His droning lasted a solid thirty minutes longer before it came time to introduce the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Draco withdrew his chin from his palm, stopped slouching and paid attention. He was curious to see who'd be stepping into the `cursed position'.
Dumbledore turned to the faculty table, “Cepheus,” He prompted.
A young man with long, black hair pulled back in a queue and deep burgundy robes stood and made his way around the table to replace Dumbledore on the dais. He surveyed the crowd of students through glowing silver eyes that didn't seem quite human. They seemed to withhold wisdom and secrets that belied his youthful appearance.
Draco could feel the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end.
“Devoted Hogwarts students.” He began, “My name is Cepheus Alderwolth, and as Professor Dumbledore said, I shall be filling the position of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” He paused and cocked his head slightly, as if waiting for objections.
When none came he continued, “I am looking forward to teaching you all and I can only hope that you're all looking forward to learning.” His last sentence hung in the air and Draco couldn't help but interpret it as a threat. He shivered involuntarily.
Alderwolth made his way back to the teachers' table and Dumbledore rose one final time.
“Let us feast”
The last thing Draco felt like doing was eating. Ever since he'd been given the Dark Mark his eating patterns had become erratic. There'd been times when he'd eaten ravenously, but mostly, he'd been unable to hold down a solid meal for more than five minutes without bringing it straight back up again.
He looked queasily at the innumerable plates overflowing with food and felt his stomach churn. Crabbe and Goyle, having been made to wait longer than usual for their meal were now attacking the food with their bare hands, Grabbing fistfuls of whatever happened to be within reach and shoveling it into their mouths.
Draco stared blankly at his empty plate.
“sumfin' wrong mate?” Crabbe managed to spit out with a mouth full of pork rib, spraying partially chewed food everywhere. Draco wiped the mess off his face with a handkerchief and leveled his dim-witted companion a toxic glare. Crabbe gulped and tried to shuffle away, holding his greasy hands up in a placating gesture.
Draco tried to rein in his rage. The Dark Mark started throbbing. He resisted the urge to clamp a hand around his arm and gritted his teeth.
“Think before you open those flabby jowls,” he hissed. “Disgusting…”
Crabbe breathed a sigh of relief, hardly believing he'd gotten off so easily.
Draco poured himself some Pumpkin Juice, wishing he had Fire Whiskey instead. He spent the rest of the feast sipping mechanically from his goblet. He ignored the clamor going on around him; the jeering and carefree banter of his peers. His thoughts were focused instead on the conversation he'd overheard on the train.
“You are, aren't you? A couple, I mean…”
How was he supposed to use this information to tear the Wonder Trio apart?
Draco definitely believed Weasley to be the chink in the chain; he seemed to be amazingly susceptible to his taunts with the slightest insult sending the redhead into blind fits of rage. He'd just have cast an aspersion or two about the Mudblood's virtue and the Weasel would leap to her defense, wand blazing.
Although that would be comical to watch, it didn't seem like the most expedient course of action to tear the three of them apart…
No, this called for tact and precision…
He sat on the hardwood bench, waiting for the farce to reach its conclusion.
.:0:.
Luna was so tired by the day's exertions that she was ready to head off to bed as soon as herself, Harry, Hermione, Ron (who still hadn't talked since the train) reached the Common room. Luna could only guess what was causing the tension between the tightly knit group of three but the hostility was palpable as they clambered through the Griffindor porthole.
They stumbled over the threshold with Neville, who had miraculously managed to forget the password and lock himself out within the first five hours of being at Hogwarts.
The password at the present moment was Bat-Bogey, which had been Ginny's contribution. This had brought forth a collective snigger from the Griffindor students as they remembered the curse she'd so cunningly placed on an unsuspecting Malfoy last year.
I must make that boy a memory talisman; Luna cogitated, casting Neville a sidelong glance. Maybe something with the nose-hairs of a Mountain Troll… She remembered reading somewhere once that they seemed to be very effective in regards to memory encoding. The moment she vocalized these thoughts, her friends fixed her with an expression caught between concern and amusement.
This managed to lighten the mood slightly. Ron snorted, Hermione elbowed him in the ribs and Harry watched this exchange with an unreadable expression on his face.
“I'm off to bed.” Luna announced suddenly, wanting to relieve herself of the palpable tension. She headed towards the staircase, giving the trio one last troubled glance over her shoulder before retiring for the night.
Great Merlin's beard, I hope they're stronger than this…
.:0:.
Draco stood in front of one of the mirrors in the boys' lavatories; his pale visage stared back at him from the reflective surface almost mockingly. The feast had long since finished and the students had settled into their dorms to sleep or swap stories about how “eventful” their holidays were.
Draco couldn't care less about what happened to anyone else over their summer vacation.
The last thing he wanted to do was listen to some witless fool carry on about anecdote after redundant anecdote so he had escaped to the blessed seclusion of the toilets.
The room itself, situated relatively close to the Slytherin Common Room, was always poorly lit and a rumor had been circulated that Peeves (most likely by Peeves) had been known to frequent it, it was usually disserted.
He found himself coming here more and more to sort through his frenzied thoughts.
Draco leant heavily on the basin and pressed his forehead against the cool glass. He let out a long breath, clamping his eyes shut.
What am I supposed to do about father?
A pair of cold hands snaked around his chest. “I thought I'd find you here,” A sultry voice purred in his ear.
His eyes snapped open and he stood up straight.
“Parkinson.” He spat.
She grinned widely, watching him in the mirror.
Her hands made their way down to his stomach, moving in a way he could only assume she thought to be seductive. Draco tried to twist out of her suffocating embrace, which only resulted in her tightening her hold.
He grabbed her hands, squeezing painfully, “This stops. Now.”
That gave her pause.
“But Drakey-poos-”
“I told you NEVER to call me that-” He gritted.
Pansy carried on, seemingly unheeded, “What about our betrothal? Ever since we were children we were destined to be together, daddy saw to that... So did Lucius…”
Draco blanched at the mention of his father.
Pansy extricated her hands from his and slid them up to caress the smooth planes of his face, “Last year you couldn`t keep your hands off me… So what's changed? What`s wrong?”
Draco turned sharply to face her, “I don't want to discuss it.” His flinty eyes narrowed, “Least of all with you.”
“C'mon, you sure you don't want to share?“ She pouted prettily moving her hands down his body with renewed vigor.
Does she think this is some kind of perverse game? He thought as her hand reached his abdomen. His fingers dug into the cold metal washbasin behind him.
Take her. An insidious voice in his head demanded with growing intensity.
“I'm serious, Parkinson, back off.” The Dark Mark started to throb painfully as his anger mounted. He felt his control slipping.
She laughed throatily as her hands clumsily groped his crotch.
Draco felt his eyes glaze over.
He grabbed her violently by the shoulders and pinned her to the mirror with enough force to crack the glass. He pressed his body flush against hers, burying his head in the hollow of her throat. “Is this what you want?” He breathed in her ear as he trailed a skilled hand under her pleated skirt and up the soft flesh of her inner thigh.
He lifted his head to study her face.
Draco's hand froze.
Nothing could hide the fear painted across her face. Her breathing was erratic and he felt slight tremors through her body.
He recoiled from her as if stung.
Pansy fell to the floor with an ungraceful thud. She lay motionless, too stunned to move.
Draco drew his hands to his face, examining them as if they were foreign appendages.
What the fuck just Happened?
He looked from his hands to the quivering mess that was Parkinson, then back to his hands again.
Draco had never forced himself on a woman before… he'd never had to, and this experience had left him feeling vile and depraved. It was as if some alien being had temporarily seized control of his body and he'd merely been a puppet, a spectator to its whims.
Draco glanced up at his reflection in the fractured surface. He inhaled sharply. It wasn't his reflection that stared back at him but that of The Dark Lord. His thin lips twisted into a grotesque rictus, his serpentine eyes glinted. He extended a translucent arm, pointing an accusatory finger.
Draco looked away and clamped his eyes shut, horrified.
When he looked back, however, there was nothing but his own face staring back at him through the cobweb of splintered glass. Draco shook his head and turned to Pansy, who'd retreated to a grimy corner of the bathroom, still sobbing quietly.
He crossed the room and bent down slowly to help her up. She shied away from him, emitting a strangled cry like a wounded animal.
Draco sighed, “I'm sorry, look..” He gingerly placed a hand on her shoulder. Pansy shrieked, shoved him away and fled from the room, wailing like a banshee.
Draco watched her leave, his face an empty void.
.:0:.
Luna awoke on her first day of classes in surprisingly good spirits. The omnipresent cloud of evil that had been following her these past few weeks had dissipated, although this was probably due to the Snaffle-Gouger purging she had been religiously undertaking every morning and night, she rationalized.
Regardless, the crisp, predawn air bespoke of the birth of a beautiful day.
.:0:.
Ron seriously doubted that the day could get any worse; he'd somehow managed to sleep fifteen minutes later than he was supposed to (Harry, with malice aforethought, must've let him sleep in), he'd missed breakfast and had now managed to forget the location of the Potions Room. Running late on his first class on his first day back…Ron could almost sense the detentions on the horizon.
Ron knew that Harry was still feeling upset about what had transpired on the train yesterday. He frowned as he passed a group of second years that sniggered at his disheveled appearance. Harry was acting so childish about it; he knew how Ron felt about Hermione and he acted like their blossoming relationship was an abominable betrayal: as if Ron had crawled into bed with Voldemort and asked for a bedtime story.
He stopped and shuddered as the images slithered unbidden into his mind.
Ron mentally shook himself and rounded the final corner, the potions room door in sight. He inhaled sharply, steeling himself, and pushed the heavy wooden door, which groaned loudly in protest.
It didn't take his eyes long to acclimatize to the murkiness. At the creaking of the door all pairs of eyes turned suddenly to him. Ron gulped and hesitantly closed the door behind him; even Grimuld Place possessed a more welcoming atmosphere.
“Mr. Weasley.” Snape crooned, “How nice of you to grace us with your presence.”
There was a spattering of sniggers.
The professor waited for the noise to die down, seemingly encouraged by the reaction, “I was merely instructing your fellow classmates on the importance of punctuality and presentation.” He pinned Ron with a hard, obsidian glower. He gulped, clutching his textbooks tighter fearing the coming storm in the midst of the calm.
Snape's gaze lifted to once again address the whole class. The Professor cleared his throat, “Now, as Professor Dumbledore has so blatantly pointed out, this year is about promoting unity between the houses,” His tone sardonic, “Take a good hard look at your neighbor. If you're not that well acquainted with them, don't fret, for you'll become very familiar with each other throughout the course of the year.”
His penetrating stare returned to Ron. There was a serpentine grin plastered smugly on his greasy face, “Mr. Weasley, say hello to you study partner for the year.” He extended a black-clad arm to the only vacant seat in the classroom.
Ron caught sympathetic gazes from fellow Griffindors as he followed the direction of Professor Snape's outstretched sleeve. His eyes settled on the empty seat and the desks other occupant and he felt his blood turn to ice and his stomach plummet to his knees.
Snape gave one last look of triumph and resumed his instruction.
Eyes as gray and cold as steel challenged Ron's look of utter dismay from underneath flaxen bangs.
.:0:.
Draco couldn't believe he'd been stuck with the Weasel as a lab partner for the duration of the school year! He couldn't wait to inform his father of this horrific injustice. Being partnered to this penniless buffoon for the whole year exacerbated his long list of personal problems that seemed to steadily bourgeoning out of control.
He shot a death glare at the fiery redhead, which was returned with equal ferocity.
As Weasley trudged down the neat row of desks, Draco made no attempts to move his books, which were spread haphazardly over the surface. Ron went to pull out the vacant seat but Draco moved faster, hooking a long limb around the leg, rooting it to the spot, despite Ron's desperate tugs.
He grinned darkly, caressing his quill under his chin thoughtfully.
Ron's soft brown eyes hardened. “Move,” He gritted out between clenched teeth.
“I'm sorry Weasley.” Draco voice dripped with venom, “The space that's left is all you can afford, unfortunately. Considering the threadbare condition of those hand-me-down robes you have on, you're lucky I let you on the desk at all.” He scrunched his nose in contempt at Weasley's shabby clothing.
Draco smiled inwardly as Ron's face went the same shade of his hair.
Their bickering caught the attention of the other students and eventually Snape himself. He paused, “Is everything alright or do you two need to sort it out in detention? I'm sure Filch will be more than accommodating to help you sort out this petty squabble.”
“Nothing's wrong sir.” Draco piped up, his features angelic. He unhooked his foot from around the chair.
Ron muttered something unintelligible and undoubtedly derogatory and gave the chair one final tug. Expecting to meet with resistance, having the seat give way sent Ron and his things sprawling to the grimy floor.
The class erupted into laughter and Draco allowed a satisfied smirk to grace his lips. He took note of how uncomfortable Ron looked under the Professor's scrutinous gaze.
Ron quickly gathered his books off the floor, slammed them down on his side of the desk the look of utter embarrassment never leaving his face.
Draco looked around to see that his witless companions looked equally miserable; Longbottom was seated next to Goyle and he appeared to be gagging. Draco surmised that Goyle must've eaten one-too-many eggs at breakfast from the look of Longbottom's face, which was presently taking on a purple hue.
“Can anyone tell me the function of a Frulisian Mushroom and where they are found?”
Draco didn't need to think twice about the owner of the only hand in the room that shot up. He glanced at Granger, then at Parkinson, who was seated unhappily next to her.
Snape performed two sweeps of the room before settling on the Mudblood.
“Yes, Miss Granger, dazzle us.”
She appeared to be momentarily taken aback by his snide tone, but it didn't take her long to overcome it, not wanting to miss an opportunity to shove her knowledge in everyone's faces.
Draco's lip curled.
“It's an antidote, known to counteract the bite of a Sharp-Tooth Toad, which could otherwise prove to be fatal. They are located in thickly forested areas and are indigenous to the Carpathian hinterland, but can be grown virtually anywhere given the correct environment.”
Draco rolled his eyes at the textbook response.
“Ten points from Griffindor for not cooperating by giving your classmates an opportunity to reply to the question.” Snape smirked whilst Hermione looked mortified.
Draco spied Potter sitting three desks ahead of him. His face was contorted in barely controlled rage. Crabbe, who was sitting next to him, however, broke into peals of laughter.
Snape's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, no longer willing to be interrupted.
Draco seized his opportunity to bait Weasley, he leaned over and whispered, “Maybe it's about time you taught that Mudblood to do more useful things with that tongue of hers... I could give you a few pointers if you like.”
He laughed internally as Ron clammed up, the muscles in his back tensed and a steady tic developed in his jaw. “You take that back.” He spat.
Hermione, who'd been watching the heated exchange, but had thankfully been out of earshot, motioned for silence.
Parkinson's reedy voice cut across the squabble, “Oh stop it Granger. Everybody's sick of your sanctimonious attitude. All because you were cursed with brains instead of boobs.” Hermione could only gape as she looked from her own willowy form to Pansy's over-endowed bosom.
“I wouldn't exactly label brains as a curse, at least Hermione won't get black eyes when she runs.” Came the voice that made all the hairs at the nape of Draco's neck stand on end and shivers down his spine. He turned slowly to be caught in Luna's crystalline gaze. Blaise, who was slouched in his seat beside her, glanced from Draco, to Luna then settled back on his friend and gave a lazy, lop-sided grin, his cobalt eyes shining with mischief.
It was at that moment when things spiraled out of control.
Snape sent emerald green sparks flying from his wand and shouted, “Enough!”
There was a deafening silence, which was blessedly broken by the shrill sound of the school bell.
The students breathed a collective sigh of relief as they began to collect their books, eager to escape the wrath of the cantankerous professor.
“Not so fast.” They all froze.
“Parkinson, Granger, Potter, Weasley, Malfoy, Zabini, Lovegood, Longbottom, for today's sickening display of misconduct and riotous behavior you will each have five house points deducted and receive two months detention.”
“Don't you think that's a slight exaggeration sir, I mean, I wouldn't exactly call our behavior `riotous'” Blaise spoke for the first time since entering the room.
Snape gave the illusion of mulling over the raven-haired boy's unwarranted opinion.
“Make that three months detention.”
Draco quickly grabbed his friend by the hood of his robe and dragged him out of the room before he made the situation any worse, leaving behind the remaining Griffindors and Parkinson, who still refused to meet his gaze since the toilet incident.
Once they'd left the dank classroom Draco dropped Blaise's hood and turned to leave, having made the conscious decision to skip his next class and blow off some pent up steam.
“So… How long have you been sleeping with Loopy?”
Draco nearly tripped over himself, startled by the directness of the question.
He spun slowly, thankful that the hallway was deserted. “What makes you say something so inane? She's a Griffindor, for Merlin's sake.” He put the right amount of upper-class snobbery in his voice, enough to dupe the average person, but Blaise was not to be deterred.
“Oh, nothing… Just the lust-ridden gazes you where throwing at her in class before. You looked like you were ready to throw back your chair and roger her on the desk.”
Draco kept his face impassive, “You have a poet's gift of exaggeration, Zabini. Maybe you should just quit school and spend the rest of your life composing verse.”
Blaise snorted at his friend's dry sense of humor, a side of him, which, Blaise was sure, no other person got to see. “Yeah, I'm sure daddy-dearest'd love to hear that.”
Draco, thinking of no appropriate way to end the conversation simply nodded a silent goodbye and about-faced, heading off in the direction of the lake; brooding seemed to be a much more productive use of his time than spending it cooped up in some dusty old classroom.
His expensive black shoes struck the floor, the sound reverberating off the cold gray stones of the hallway.
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FOOTNOTE:
The next chapter will be called Stuck In A Rut
… There'll be a few D&Ms and the first DADA class
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