Temeritas

Trouble

Fri, 20 Feb 2009 11:27:09 GMT

As a matter of fact, I have trouble with the current site I'm frequenting. The people there just piss me of and I don't want to have anything to do with kids and even grown-ups behaving like kids.

For Christ sake, that man is 37 years old and behaves like a grade schooler!

Well, I think I will switch to lifejournal then, but I hate that my name here is Mokurable.

I've been Moku since I joined internet-, anime-, writers-world. I don't want to switch to being Mokurable. I don't even really like that name, man.

Internet communities are becoming a pain - but I still love the people I met through them and it makes it easy to stay in contact, and it's just so fucked up that some people only get by through hating and bashing and flaming others on the net. It's pathetic. And I hate it.

Even though the rules are so easy to understand, even the biggest idiot should understand that.

If you don't like it then just stay the fuck away, for god's sake!

No matter where I go: youtube, lifejournal, ffnet - why are there so many people just talking shit about everything? Why must there always be someone insulting another for the simple reason that they like, I don't know, "Kiss"? Or because they are gay? Or emo? Or seem to be emo? Or punks, or cosplayer, or good at painting, or - I just don't get it.

Am I to naϊve or something?
Am I just stupid to not understand?

It's not like I'm getting worked up over - oh, forget it, I do get worked up over it and thus I must be stupid to even think about something like this, because I should just forget it and live with the fact, that humans are just hateful creatures.

Maybe I'm not even better than anybody else.
I'm probably even worse for complaining - for being a hypocrite.

I think I just have dirtied myself...

ֻּׁ¨ֻּׁ۫ﱢﻩﻭ◘ мỡҚụ ◘ ֵֶ۫ﱢﻩﻭ¨ְֱֲֻּׁ

Egoist Chapter 06

Tue, 29 Jul 2008 14:55:54 GMT

Title: Egoist
Part 6/22(33)
German Title: Egoist
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: HP/DM/HP
Warnings: slash, humour, later on romance and a bit angst
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but to JKR. I don't earn any money with this.

Summary: Singing, cross-dressing, cheerleading, potions and irritated Slytherins - just your everyday Hogwarts life. Or maybe not.

Thanks again to my betas meicdon13 and Sinister_Bra

Comment: It's not one of the best chapters. The two after this one aren't, either, but then it will get better. So please be patient.
I wrote this because I wanted to give an insight into the poor students of Hogwarts confronted by the harsh reality that yes, indeed, Draco Malfoy is gay – or at least, that’s what they think.

Interlude I: Tirade of Hate
Point of View:
3rd Person; Tristan Taylor

I hate Draco Malfoy. Not because he is a Malfoy, a Slytherin or a Wannabe-Death Eater, no, my hate is of private nature. Why, if not because of the aforementioned reasons? It’s quite simple:
Draco Malfoy is gay.
How do I know?
Everything started when Malfoy went mental, for whatever reasons, and pretty much destroyed the whole Great Hall. While he was occupied with repairing everything, Parkinson revealed that Malfoy was gay. That again was not really a big shock, because everybody thought that Malfoy had something going on with Potter but now it was official.
I merely wondered why Potter’s friends reacted in a rather strange way, which makes me wonder, whether the rumour about them was really true. Although Potter reacted rather sensitive when Hermione pulled the magazine from her bag. But back to Malfoy’s homosexuality.
Now, under normal circumstances I couldn’t care less, but these are not normal circumstances I’m currently living in!

“Come out, Tamara! Everything is going to be alright!” Tristan shouted, despereatly knocking on the door, hoping against hope, that the girl would open up.
“She is not going to come out,” Dina, Tamars best friend, said. “You know, the coming-out of Malfoy just… took her by surprise.” The eyes of the boy turned dark because of hate and the blond girl took a few steps back. “That bastard is going to pay for this. How could he do that to her?” Saying this, he stomped out of the common room, ignoring the girl trying to stop him.

Tamara, my big sister, hasn’t showed up since the coming-out. She cut classes, wouldn’t come to meal times and doesn’t speak to anyone. She is a very sensitive girl and suffers because of her lovesickness. That wouldn’t be the first time, when something like this happened. When she was in her first year, she was in love with Professor Quirrell, but that one turned out to be one of the bad guys.
Even though I can’t understand what she sees in that Slytherin Malfoy, I still have to accept her feelings. With his sexuality he had broken the delicate heart of my sister and he would atone for this sin.

“Ah, Potter!” Tristan heared Malfoy calling. The addressed Gryffindor turned around, throwing a sceptical look at the blond boy. “What do you want, Malfoy?” A sardonic smile crept over Malfoy’s lips. Tristan fearfully flinched back. However, he was going to get his revenge, no matter how scared he was of Malfoy!
Quietly he drew his wand, opening the book laying next to him. “Pacifing … packing… pain. There it is!” The boy skipped over the paragraph until he found the incantation. “Dolores Commovēre is the basis for every spell inducing pain, if only with limited effect. To cause severe pain one has to resort to the formula of the particular pain.” The boy pursed his lips, gently swearing. He wanted to make Malfoy feel real pain, pain he would never be able to forget. He skipped further over the text. “Known Dolores-formular are ‘Doleres Capite’ or ‘Tormina’.” Happily, the boy closed the book. Now, he only had to wait for the perfect moment and he could attack.
“You really are enjoing this, aren’t you?” Potter asked the blond Slytherin, raising one eyebrow but the addressed boy didn’t response, instead bent his head to the side, smirking. The Gryffindor’s gaze changed into an sceptical and slightly confused expression, yet the blond only shook his head, looking to the right.
Tristan recalled the formula in his head, mumbling it a few times, before he extened his wand. “Doleres Capite!” he whispered quietly and a white flash left his wand. Both youths noticed the gentle glowing out of the corner of their eyes, retreating a few steps. “Tormina!” he threw after, standing up and hidding in the shadows of an alcove.
Malfoy had exspected the first spell, avoided it and the flash of lightning hit a Hufflepuff first year, strolling along instead. However he wasn’t prepared for the second one, leaping backwards and barely preventing the ray from hitting him.
Potter’s eyes widened in astonishment when he glanced at Malfoy, who’s indifferent look was fixed on the small, hidden alcove, then turning towards the first year who was bending over in pain, starting to cry. A sadistic smirk played on the blond’s lip.
“Malfoy? Everything alright?” Potter asked, approaching the other boy concernedly, however the blond only put the dark-haired wizard off. Slowly he drew his wand, pointing it at the niche.
“Retineō,” his voice reverberated in the corridors.
“Cunning, Malfoy,” the dark-haired wizard commented, walking towards the alcove. Yet Malfoy ignored him and walked into the opposite direction.
“Hey! Don’t you want to know who it s?” Potter asked when he noticed Malfoy distancing himself. The blond only shook his head. “Probably some jealous little boy.”
“How can you tell it’s a boy?”
Malfoy turned towards the approaching Gryffindor. “Honestly, Potter, what kind of girl would attack such grace and handsomeness that I assuredly am?”
“Not cocky at all, are we,” the wizard muttered, slowly walking beside the other boy.
“What did you say, Potter?”
“I wanted to know, what you have in stove.”
“I will let stay him in that alcove until he get’s out of it.” Potter shook his head and followed the Slytherin into the dungeons.

That I am absolutly not enthralled by this turn of events, shall be rather obvious. Whenever I wanted to leave the alcove I hid in I was repelled, as if I would walk against an invisible wall. After I had looked up the spell Retineō in my book I discovered that the counter-curse I tried to use, but quite patheticly failed to, was an counter-action that only could be perfomed by the wand that had previously executed the charm. WHY DO SUCH CURSES EVEN EXIST?

“Malfoy?”
“Yes, Potter?”
“Retineō can only be—”
“I know, Potter.”
“… bastard…”
“And proud of it.”

It had been three hours and I have missed two lessons. If this is going on even longer, I will miss lunch. I’m hungry.

“So, Malfoy captured someone with Retineō?” Hermione asked with one raised eyebrow. “Clever.”
“Retineō?“ Weasley asked with a stuffed mouth. “’s tha’?”
“A curse, enprisoning a person wherever he is,” the girl responed, turning back to Potter. “Do you think you can find the alcove again?”
“Not me,” the dark-haired wizard reckoned, continuing to eat, unconcered.

Now I have missed dinner. Malfoy will have to pay for that – as soon as I get out of here. I hope Tamara is alright.

“Malfoy?”
“Hm?”
“It has been half a day, won’t you let him out?”
“Who?” the blond asked, confused, looking up from his book.
“I take that as a ‘no’.”

I’m beginning to get bored, and strangely enough simultaneously desperate. Malfoy is never going to let me out of here, but if I ever get out of here, he is dead! And if he get’s by me I’m going to knock him out. It will somehow work out.
What Tamara is doing now?

“Malfoy still hasn’t released him?”
Potter shook his head while he happily played with his pudding.
“Is that the same person we talked about yesterday?” Weasley’s friends nodded. “Can people survive without food so long?” When he heard this words, Potter finally stood up. “I will talk to Malfoy.”

Hello? Is there anyone? Help… help? HELP!

“Malfoy, this has to stop.”
“What? Our bets?” the addressed boy asked, confused, looking up from his potion.
“Wh—No! You have to release him.”
“Who?”
“The one, who attacked you.”
“Which one do you mean?”
Potter glanced at his school mate and current partner in Potions cunfusedly.
Malfoy sighed, laying the stirring device down. “Potter, within this week I have been attacked about six times by four different people. Could you be a bit more precise?”
“Wh… What are you talking about? Why?”
“Potter, in case you haven’t noticed, I am a Malfoy and a Slytherin.”
“…”
“Oh, forget it. Who are you talking about?”
“Doesn’t matter.” The dark-haired boy answered, turning away. Malfoy only shrugged and continued stirring the potion.

The Hufflepuff first year who had been hit by my curse passed by. I asked him whether he could tell Malfoy that a duelist was waiting for him. The boy just walked onwards. So much for Hufflepuff being all bountiful and such stuff.

“And why not?”
“Because he deserved it.”
“Harry, nobody deserves enprisonement for almst two days,” Hermione said, irritated, looking disdainfully at Weasley who continued to stuff food into his mouth. “Why do you even sympathize with Malfoy? If he hadn’t been such a git these last few years, something like this wouldn’t even happen.”
“Six times in seven days?”
“Alright, I admit that this is exagg—”
“I think they should keep it up,” the redhead interjected, still chewing on his potatos. “Maybe he will turn into a better person.”
“He will turn into an invalid.”
“As I said.”
Potter rolled his eyes and stood up.

Potter came today and brought me something to eat. He said he had been accidentally walking by and wouldn’t have found me if he had looked for me, which he didn’t, by the way. Then he asked my why I hated Malfoy to jinx him and I answered, because he is gay. After that, Potter took the remaining food and disappeared. At least I got some.
I’m wondering what my sister is currentely doing.

“Malfoy, where are you going?”
“Releasing someone at your insistence. If you hand’t mentioned that guy I would have already forgotten him but two days are enough, don’t you think?”
Potter’s eyes sparkled and he seized the blond’s arm, dragging him into the opposite direction.
“Potter… What?”
“Let him rot in hell.”
“Okaaay…”

I’m really wondering, why she looks at me with this amused gaze. Really.

“You are an idiot.”
“What?”
“Telling Harry Potter that you attacked Malfoy because he is gay. How stupid can you be?”
“That is not of your concern.”
The girl sat down on the floor, watching Tristan with hawks eyes. A few minutes later she sighed. “They are both so cute, don’t you think?”
“I think I’m going to puke.”
“I’m waiting for a kiss for months. Though they are so sneaky.”
“Scratch that. I am going to puke.”
“You know, latest rumours say that they are only acting and still like each other like they did at the beginning of the year.”
“Not at all?”
“I know! Idiots! Ah, Draco and Harry – together. What is left to wish for?”
“Your death?”

I’m really wondering why nobody is looking for me AND SAVES ME FROM THAT WEIRDO!

“Harry, it’s been two and a half days. Won’t you—”
“No.”
“But—”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because that guy is a bloody homophob!”
“… Alright, if you are not going to talk to Malfoy, I will.”

I hope Tamara is doing alright and has overcome her lovesickniss. After all I’m in this situation because of that. My lovely, docile sister.
The girl hasn’t showed up yet. Fortunately.

“Malfoy, free him!”
“Who?”
“You know who!”
“… Granger, if you haven’t noticed, Voldemort has been freed two years ago. Furthermore, I can’t comprehend why of all people you insist on freeing him.”
“I’m talking about that boy, you—”
“Ah, yes, it has been how long?”
“Two and a half day.”
“Quite enough, I do believe.”
“…”

I’m hungry. And thirsty. Maybe I’m going to rot here. My lovely Tamara wouldn’t survive this. So many strokes at once!
Oh, Malfoy is coming. Together with Hermione?

“Hey.”

Tristan looked up, feigning indifference, completely ignoring the girl besides Malfoy and turned towards the boy. “Hey,” he answered, leaning back against the wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Suddenly he noticed a brunette shock of hair and scardyl pressed himself against the wall. The Girl aka The Horror of Hogwarts!
“Malfoy! Look at what you have done! He is completely emaciated and scared!”
“Potter’s fault,” the blond Slytherin said, smirking and then turned towards the boy to address him. “Whatever you did to aggravate Potter, it worked.” He paused, frowning, started anew. “I could nearly say that I was proud of you, if you were a Hufflepuff. However as a Ravenclaw, truth be told, you failed.” Tristan’s eyes dangerously sparkled, but Malfoy ignored it. “You tried to hex me, allowing me to enprison you. You are unable to find a counter-curse and let a girl fight your fight.”
“Hey!” Tristand and Hermione protested together.
“Whatever. You annoyed Potter so much that he was willing to let you rot here and this is the only reason I release you.”
“Do you always talk so much?” the Ravenclaw asked, rolling his eyes. Malfoy smirked. “One has to keep their hands busy, right? Liberō!” Malfoy lowered his wand and took a few steps back, while Hermione approached the boy and supproted him. “Pustularis,” the girl whispered. Tristan understood immediately, and waited for Malfoy to turn around. Slowly he raised his wand, gleeful smile on his lips.
“Pustularis!”
Jauntily, Malfoy turned around, wand still in his hand. “Reflectō!” he shouted, leaping to the side in case his counter-curse wouldn’t work, but smiled contently when the Ravenclaw was hit by his own curse. “Lingaturame!” The girl’s eyes widened in horror when she heard the incantion, trying to push Tristand away from here, but she wasn’t fast enough and the spell hit them both. The sardonic smile on the blond’s lips broadend.
Hermione and Tristan both lost their balance, crashing to the floor. Malfoy waited patiently for them to collect themselves again.
“Well, well, Granger, that was not nice.” She glared at him destable. “Now, what would you say if I would finish my spell with Inaeternum?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Care to find out?” He raised his wand, pointing at the two teenagers.
“Inaeter—.”
“Malfoy, don’t!”
“Potter. Always the hero!” the Slytherin muttered, turning around. “And why not, Potter?” The addressed boy slowly approached them, trying to come up with a decent reason. “Uhm… because of Ron?”
“… Inaeter—!”
“Alright, okay! Do it for me! Please! If yo do this it’s irreversible!”
“Not that I care…”
“It counts… as a lost bet?”

I have no idea what Malfoy did to us or was planing to do to us and I had no idea what they were talking about, but the words seem to work and Malfoy just walked off without further ado and disappeared along the corridor. I was still alive and I could flee from The Girl!

“I can’t believe he has the audacity to use such a spell!”
Potter flicked an annoyed glare at Tristan whose face started to develop small bisters, and turned back to his friend. “You didn’t have to do that, either.”
“Compared with his spell, ours was benign.”
“Pustularis? Hermione, you know that acne for Malfoy would be like the loose of all his wealth.”
“It would have been limited to one week!”
Tristan looked at them, surprised, because he had used the spell without knowing what it was.

Just aminute. Acne? Reflectō?

“Look what he did to us! He spellbound us!” The girl stood up, walked ten steps and stopped, turning around. Then she did another step backwards and at that moment Tristand stood up stepped closer one step.
“I know, Hermione,” Potter sighed. “It could have been worse.”
“For example inaeternum? In perpetuity?”
The Gryffindor nodded and the started to speak up. “I could stop him, alright? We just have to go to Madam Pomfrey and ask her to un-bin you and to pep up this jerk, because his face…” Potter stopped in the middle of the sentence as Tristan looked at him, terrified. “Reflectō! He said Reflectō, right?”
The dark-haired wizard contemptuously raised an eyebrow, looking down at the shorter boy. “You are a really smart guy, aren’t you?”
“Don’t worry,” the brunette girl said soothingly. “It’s only for a week.”

That doesn’t help me of course and I stomp away, forgetting, that Hermione had to stick no further than ten steps to me else she was dragged after me, no matter what obstacle (for example Potter) in the way and I wondered why someone suddenly hit me with a Stupefy to stop me from walking.
Angry and annoyed I let myself be brought to infirmary by Potter, while Hermine chided me for my lack of consideration.

“I lifted the band even though I cannot understand how you can accidently bind someone. However, in consideration that you, Mister Potter, are involed, I think I do not need to wonder.”
Potter’s tips of the ears tinged red and he looked at the floor in shame.
“Concerning your acne, Mister Taylor, you will have to endure it until it’s stops. That’s all, you can go.”
The three students lefted the infirmary together, closing the door behind them.
Potter and Hermione were just about to turn around to the other boy, when Tristan already fled the scene.
“Strange boy,” the brunette girl mumbled. Potter, walking beside her, nodded. “Malfoy should have let him rot.”

Safely in my common room! My refuge, my domicil! My one and only! Now, here can’t happen strange things! Now, where is Tamara?

Trsitan looked around in the common room, but didn’t spot his sister. Sullen, he sighed and went into the direction of the stairs, which lead to the grils’ rooms. Yet before he could enter the first step, he heard a female voice calling out to him.
Surprised, he spun around and saw IT! The Girl a.k.a. The Horror of Hogwarts!
“Trsitan! Your friends have let me in, when I told them that I wanted to talk to you.” A demonic smile played on the brunettes lips. Everyone had their own revenge.
Potter wanted to let him rot in the niche because of the attack and the girl wanted to verbaly abuse him by telling him about her Malfoy-Potter fantasies.
The black-haired boy dashed up the stairs to the boys’ rooms, slapping the door behin dhim shut and locked it with every spell he knew.
“Tristan?”
The heart of the boy stopped beating and half-petrified, he turned around. Then his eyes widened.
“Tamara?”
My beloved sister! Here! In my room! Pah, Malfoy! Nobody griefs for you forever! And my revenge had probably finished you off! Hahahaha!
“Trsitan, your are grimacing. Are you alright?” the girl asked hesistantly as she moved closer to her brother.
“Tamara! You have left your room!”
“Yes, I have finished!”
“That’s great, that you have finally finished with Malfoy!”
“Eh?”
“I know, you had hard times and I couldn’t even help you!”
“Uhm… yeah, hard times… somehow…”
“You don’t need to tell me! Let us forget this episode and start a new beginning!”
“…Yeah… okay…,” the girl mumbled incertainly, not knowing, what her brother was talking about. Instead, she tried to change the topic. “Do you want to read the story?”
“Story?”
“The one I have written.”
“When?”
“When I was in my room. I just couldn’t stop!”
“Ah! To compensate your lovesickness you have written a story?”
“Lovesickness?”
“You weren’t… lovesick?”
“…Why would I?”
“Because of… Malfoy?”
“Oh, no, Draco Malfoy was my inspiration! Without him I couldn’t have done it!”
“…”
“Please? It’s really important for me what you think of the story! Oh, and where have you been these last few days? And what had happened to your face? … Tristan? Why are you approaching me with… such an… murderous look? Tristan?”

Please do not kill me

Sun, 27 Jul 2008 15:43:18 GMT

Alright folks, it's like this:

I'm actually rather busy with one of my German fanfictions. It's three chapters long and each chapter has a page count of 95. Right now, I'm stuck at chapter three, page 62 and I try to work this scene out since forever. And I will do it. Really. But I told myself that I would not do anything else until I finished this stupid last chapter.

BUT thanks to Amie I will be able to upload a One-Shot called "It's all about cookies" rather soon and thanks to bra-sinister and meicdon you will get a new chapter of Egoist, as soon as I have worked this stupid LJ-functions out again.

So, no, I'm not sitting on my ass doing nothing, I'm sitting on my ass pretending to do something but doing nothing...

Love
Moku

I'm Back - Second Comming?

Sun, 17 Feb 2008 10:34:52 GMT

Well - a lot happened these past months and I wasn't really active. Neither in translating nor in reading.

But I have one problem I'd like to talk about. One of my betas left the sinking ship, and now I'm alone with meicdon13, who I adore, I do. But I think, because English is not my mothertongue, two betas would be better than one. So, if someone is willing to be my beta (and this will not be an easy task), I would really appreciate that.

Second think is, I started working, and I try to write on my German Ffs as much as I can, so there is not a lot of time for translating, so if there is someone, who speaks German (preferably as second language with English as first ^^°, but I'm not picky...) please, please, if you have the time, could you help translating?

I know, that's a lot I'm asking for but it seems like I have no time on my hands, so I would be grateful for any help.

And meicdon13. I'm sorry, I neglected you these months, but I have the feeling I neglected everyone - even my family.

Moku

I'm Back!

Sat, 10 Nov 2007 18:24:48 GMT

Or something like that. Internet-less these past month, I have my 64kb internet back... Don't laugh. At least I can start posting again. >_>

Egoist Chapter 05 Part Two

Wed, 19 Sep 2007 12:15:29 GMT

Veritaserum Part 2

oOoOoOo

Blaise Zabini was not a stupid Slytherin.

And precisely for that reason, the wizard tried to ward off everyone who was prone to have ill intentions towards Slytherin, from talking to Draco. Unfortunately, this was easier said than done, since that was, oh, about everyone in the remaining three Houses. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, there were many infights in Slytherin, which Draco always won more because of his sharp tongue than because of his abilities with his wand, though they always emphasied his threat nicely.

“Today, Malfoy is so… edgy,” one Slytherin said from the other end of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall.

“Maybe he had bad sex?” His friend remarked, relaxed and continuing to eat.

Blaise glanced at Draco who was acting as if he hadn’t heard anything. Both Slytherins probably didn’t notice that the blond could actually hear every spoken word of theirs, and Blaise hoped against hope, that their conversation wouldn’t take a bad turn.

“I thought Malfoy was still a virgin.”

Blaise cringed, choking on his food. After that sentence, he made it his duty to carefully watch the blond sitting opposite of him. Vincent and Gregory had likely heard everything as well, and they were slowly creeping closer to the blond Slytherin.

“Malfoy? A virgin? I bet he lost his virginity as soon as he knew how.”

“His parents wouldn’t approve of that,” a third interfered. “They are Purebloods. Girls have to stay virgins until marriage.”

The three conversing students burst out into broad laughter which they tried to suppress. While the three Slytherin enjoyed themselves, Blaise nervously shifted around on his chair, and Gregory and Vincent crept even closer to stop movement of hands or objects that might hurt other students in the near future.

“If you really want to know,” a girl said, smirking, “just ask him yourself.”

“I might be crazy, but I’m not a Gryffindor,” one of the boys shot back.

“At least we are not cowards!” one Griffindor shouted from his table. The faces of the three Slytherins turned pale, as they finally noticed that they hadn’t talked as quietly as they had believed. Suddenly they paled even more, when it occurred to them that if a Gryffindor two tables away could hear them, Draco most certainly would have heard them, too. Their perfect timing showed it. That they looked up at exactly the same time that Draco fixed his firm gaze on them, proved they had been caught. The sound of chairs scraping on the floor was followed by the sound of hurried footsteps and the slamming of the door.

Draco stared silently at his food. Blaise was not a coward, but he thought that the perfect place he could be right now was somewhere very, very far away from Draco… or under the table. And that was precisely the location he seeked, when he heard the first glass shattering on the floor.

“Hey Blaise,” Millicent mumbled, hiding herself under the table as well.

“Hey Milli.”

“Greetings friends!”

Both looked to the side and spotted Pansy, who began scrambling towards them. “Where are Greg and Vince?” the girl asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor. All three suddenly cringed when they heard a plate – or more – shattering on the floor.

“Probably trying to stop Draco.”

“Look, Greg is coming,” Millicent pointed out, making room for their friend.

“Vince said he wanted to go diplomatic, but Draco has been wound up to a high pitch all day long. This is just—” He was interrupted by a bowl, which, through the table, smashed just a few inches beside him. “Even the table isn’t safe anymore!”

“Well, Draco has never been this angry before.”

“Or powerful,” Blaise added to Pansy’s statement.

“Hey guys.”

“Hey,” the Slytherins welcomed Vincent who sat beside them.

“I don’t understand. Normally he would have his temper-tantrum at the end of the year,” Vincent commented.

“Usually, Draco is not running around with Veritaserum in his blood, if I’m not mistaken,” Pansy snarled while withdrawing a phial of nail enamel.

“Veritaserum?” Millicent asked, taking the nail enamel away from the other girl and putting it in her own pocket. “One of these days, those fumes will get to your head!”

“Is it my fault that painting my nails calms me down?” The sturdy girl was just about to answer, when…

“Bloody hell, Malfoy!”

The assembled Slytherins looked up, but couldn’t really see anything through the hole in the table, so they hesitantly peeped out from under the table. They saw the red-headed Gryffindor standing and throwing an angry glare ar Draco. “Just because you are pms-ing doesn’t mean you have to harass us!”

“Ron!” the bookworm exclaimed, while the others Gryffindor started to laugh.

“Ah, my bad, it was the bad sex, wasn’t it?”

Blaise was not stupid…

He knew at that moment, that those three Slytherins that had started the uproar off, wouldn’t survive the day. He guessed that the house dragon of the Malfoys’ hadn’t had anything to eat for a very long time.

Suddenly the Weasel started to laugh, and Blaise asked himself what the reason for his amusement was.

“Malfoy is blushing! You are acting like a virgin!”

That’s it! Indeed, Slytherins thought about themselves first, and then others, but when it was about friends, even they wouldn’t take this lying down and think about how they could avoid trouble.

“Vincent! Do something!” Blaise hissed towards the other boy, who only responed by shrugging. Subsequently, Blaise turned to Gregory, who responed by shrugging as well. Irritated, Blaise stood up and positioned himself beside Draco.

“That might be, because I—”

Perfect Timing, the dark-haired wizard thought, covering the blond’s mouth with one of his hands, although the answer came as a shock to him. Draco? A virgin? And he had thought that Pansy and Draco…

“What? You are what?” Potter curiously asked, compelety ignoring the havoc surrounding him.

“Angry! I’m angry!” Draco shouted, after he pulled Blaise’s hand away from his mouth and shoved his friend away.

Millicent nodded, and Pansy indifferently observed her nails that were in dire need of a fresh coat.

“Say Malfoy, are you a virgin?” The Hero of the Wizarding World shamelessly exploited the situation to satisfy his own perverted curiosity.

“No!” Draco shouted, and he could even make it sound like he was insulted because of that question. The answer, again, was true: Draco was a Sagittarius.

For the blink of an eye, something akin to shock or anger - or maybe a mixture of both – crossed Potter’s face, but Blaise dismissed it as a delusion on his part. Anyway, what had Potter expected? Draco was a normal (… …) sixteen year old boy, who naturally would engulf himself in the pleasure of a woman’s embrace. Though, he had just found out that Draco had never done that… Actually, that made Blaise think, and he sat down on a chair, contemplatively looking at Pansy who just shrugged.

“He didn’t want it. I didn’t want it. I was rather happy with the arrangement,” she said, snatching the phial out of Millicent’s pocket. “And even if he had wanted it,” she added, unscrewing the small bottle, “I certainly wouldn’t have been manly enough.”

Perplexed, Blaise glanced at Millicent, who was currently pulling on Draco’s leg to force him to clean up the mess he had made. However, Draco didn’t need the demand. During all the years they had stayed at Hogwarts, Draco had always cleaned up after his annual outburst of fury.

“Milli?” Blaise squeaked, covering his mouth with one hand, eyes wide open in panic. “Millicent Bulstrode?”

At first, Pansy looked puzzled, but then she burst out laughing. And she wouldn’t be stopping soon…

“Milli,” she choked through her laughter, trying to supress tears of mirth from ruining her make up. “Merlin.” She said, slowly breathing in and out. “Bitzy! That is just—Wuahahaha!!”

Millicent let go of Draco, who was currently busy with repairing several broken plates and glasses, and she turned to the other two Slytherin watching them sceptically. Pansy lay laughing on the floor, phial of enamle besider her as she tried to wipe tears from the corner of her eyes with a handkerchief, as Blaise watched her stunned, until he shrugged, determined to wait for the end of the laughting fit, to continue the conversation with the girl.

“I knew they would go to her head sooner or later,” Millicent sighed and walked towards Pansy, snatching the phial back.

“Milli, Bitzy! Draco most certainly is not in love with Milli, you nitwit!” The brunette girl snickered, wrestling for her self-control, yet miserably failing, and starting anew.

Fortunately the laughter wasn’t heard over the noise the other students in the Great Hall made; otherwise, she would have incurred Draco’s interest, and he would have asked the reason for her behavior. (How could someone be happy, while Draco Malfoy was suffering?)

Meanwhile, Draco used every charm he knew to fix the broken dishes and to put the tables back to their original shape. The students brave, or stupid – the same thing when talking about Griffndors - enough to stay in the Hall, wondered why the annual spectacle had been moved half a year earlier, and whether it would, nevertheless, take place again at the end of the year, while they happily chatted and created an all over rumpus, which disturbed Draco’s concentration.

“Bitzy!” Pansy started again, slowly calming down. “Draco is gay!”

Milliseconds before Pansy had uttered that disastrous sentence, the whole Great Hall mysteriously fell silent. It was just like in classes. Everybody was amiably chatting, but if you suddenly sneezed, everything went silent. Or you would get hiccups, and at that very moment everybody would quiet down.

Blaise stared, aghast, at Pansy, and his eyes flickered to Draco, who stood stark and stiff a few feet apart from them. Suddenly he lowered his outstretched arm and slowly turned around. Pansy jerked, well aware that she had overstepped the mark. However, instead of hexing the girl, the blond Slytherin stomped out of the Hall, shouting something that suspiciously sounded like, “I hate Murphy!” and en passant insulted Pansy, Pansy’s parents, Harry Potter, Dumbledore, and the whole world, with the rudest cusses, Blaise had ever heard.

“So,” Blaise began nervously, throwing a shaky glance at Millicent. “Does that mean I will never be able to become godfather of little Draco-Devils, whom I could bestow books about torture upon?”

Silence reigned in the Great Hall.

Suddenly…

“Wouldn’t have become true anyhow, Bitzy.”

Millicent nodded in agreement. “It’s common knowledge: Draco is a pure-blood … They hate Christians.”

“Something you should have known, being a pureblood yourself,” Gregory added, reproachfully, pinning the poor boy with his glare.

They fell silent again, not knowing what they should say.

“This is too good, Harry! Malfoy is—”

“Ron! Quit joking! Homosexuality is a serious illness you should take very seriously! However, I have read that you can heal it in America now!”

Granger withdrew a magazine from her bag, handing it to the Weasel. “Degayification” he read out loud. “Homosexuality is curable. It is believed in the USA these days …” He couldn’t get further because Potter wrested the magazine from the redhead’s hands and skimmed the text with his eyes. Suddenly, he shouted Incendio, and the magazine bursted into flames. “What a load of rubbish,” he mumbled and left the Great Hall.

Blaise was sitting in his chair, sighing.

He had the feeling that this day was going to rob him of all his senses.

oOoOoOo

Blaise Zabini was not a stupid Slytherin.

And precisely for that reason, the wizard knew that the silence in Professor McGonagall’s classroom should be feared. Draco and Blaise sat at the outermost end of the room, very far away from the Griffindors – or as far as possible…

McGonagall watched the calm before the storm suspiciously, gaze drifting back and forth between the two Houses to make sure that nothing would happen. Though most of all, her eyes watched Draco Malfoy, who was, encircled by his friends, fidgeting on his chair, and Harry Potter, who sat on the opposite end, concentrating, and seemingly rather angry.

The teacher sighed, closing her book. “Mister Potter, Mister Malfoy. Please stand up!” she ordered impatiently. She would get rid of the problem right away, because with her class split between two fronts (literally), she wouldn’t get through her lesson.

“Mister Potter, I came to the realization that your behavior influences the class, especially the mood,” McGonagall explained.

The dark-haired wizard looked up, noticing to his surprise that a large part of the class (the Gryffindor part) was throwing devilish looks at the Slytherins, as if wanting to say, We know it’s your fault that Harry is in a bad mood!

“Mister Malfoy. The same goes for you.” Draco rasied one eyebrow and looked around. The Slytherins actually acted like always. Some raised an eyebrow as an answer to the Gryffindors’ glare as if wanting to say, What if?. Others scratched placidly on their tables. “Maybe not so much the Slytherins, but as we all know, you affect Harry Potter and, in turn, the Gryffindors. And, not least of all, does this disturb my class.” Over the lips of the Slytherin ran a devilish smirk. “So, what is the problem with you?”

The eyes of the blond widened and he bent over, biting his lip. Blaise stood up, intending to lay a hand on the blond’s shoulder, but he was held back by Vincent.

“I lost a bet and had to drink Veritaserum,” Draco croaked. Everyone in the classroom froze. Potter turned his head, looking straight at Draco with an apologetic gaze, but the other boy simply ignored him.

“Don’t make fun of that, Mister Malfoy!”

Draco didn’t answer, hissing once before he sighed, “Besides, I’m currently undergoing an identity crisis – not in the sense of cross-dressing, mind you.” The blond stood up tall, impassively leaning back, sadistic smile playing on his lips. The Slytherin side of the room started to laugh, while the Gryffindors growled. “Earlier today, I had to listen to one of Vincent’s indoctrinations and shortly after, I was told that Millicent actually has a boyfriend. I had to hear that Snape actually has a thing for my father, although he is hooked up with Dumbledore. The whole class got to know that I’m not as asinine when it comes to Care of Magical Creatures as they had believed. At lunch, some nonentity Slytherins had nothing better to do than to discuss my virginity, after they had decided that I am actually a girl. Furthermore, I am beginning to loathe Murphy, and Pansy has nothing better to do than to declare my still unclear sexual orientation for which my father would kill me over, by the way, that is, if my mother doesn’t get ahead of him, because she now can throw her marriage plan into disarray, although she had wished for little Malfoy-heirs, preferably with Pansy.” Draco grimaced while the aformentioned girl rolled her eyes.

“Did I mention that I have lessons with Gryffindor the whole day long? Oh, and this girl seems to have stalked me for weeks now!” The blond pointed at a girl with long brunette hair that was trying to inconspicuously leave the room. “What did I ever do to you? – No! Wait! Don’t answer that! What do you want from me?” he asked annoyed. The girl spun around, smiling. She threw a kiss at him, before repeating it with Potter, and then she left the room.

For a few minutes, the students stared after the girl, then they blankly turned back to the blond Slytherin.

Again, silence controlled the room, as nobody dared to say anything.

Suddenly, Potter started to laugh, though he tried to surpress it with one hand. “What’s next, Malfoy?” he asked, grinning. “Crabbe and Goyle aren’t as stupid as they act, and Parkinson is a hotshot in Arithmantics? Tell it to the navy!”

“It’s ‘marines,’ Harry,” Granger threw in.

“Actually, that’s true. Gregory and Vincent are really above average, and Pansy is currently studying quantum physics.” Potter shook his head in response, chuckling.

“Sure. All these years both of your little pets just acted,” the Weasel joined in, laughing.

“Yep, exactly.”

Meanwhile, even the other students started to chuckle, taking Draco’s responses as a joke because Professor McGonagall more or less requested for Draco to sob his heart out in front of everybody.

“Mister Malfoy! As I see there is no way I can help you, sit down and do not dare disrupt the class again!”

The blond boy elegantly sat down, a mocking smirk on his lips. “What was the saying? ‘Tell the truth. Nobody will believe it!’”

“The only mistake in your logic, Draco,” Blaise said, leaning forward, “is that Potter knows you said the truth.”

“Harry is not a problem. He is far too noble to break our agreement.”

“Hm… What I had wanted to ask you is this: Since when is it ‘Harry’?”

“Since fourteen days, thirteen hours, thirty minutes and four, five, six—”

“Okay, I get it. That was the duet, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Blaise, shut up.”

“Now, I have other questions: Have you ever told anyone that I am a Muggle born?”

“No – why should I?”

Blaise sighed in relief. Throughout the whole school, there were only three people, who knew, that he wasn’t a pureblood, and if someone else were to find out about it, his life might turn into hell; although, he doubted that his friends – meaning Pansy, Gregory, Millicent, and Vincent – would start to avoid him because of that.

Anyway, the three people?

They were, of course, Dumbledore, Snape, and Draco Malfoy.

The blond Slytherin found it out in their third year, two years after they became ‘allies.’ Malfoys, after all, did not have friends – they had ‘allies.’ Yet, Draco told nobody about his origin, and he never broached the subject in their discussions (Blaise said that they would quarrel and fight, but Malfoys didn’t fight or quarrel, they had ‘discussions’), and Blaise was really grateful for that.

Once, Blaise had asked him why Draco was still ‘allied’ with him, and the other boy had just answered calmly that Blaise was ‘useful.’ In the beginning, Blaise wasn’t really happy with that answer, until he learned that Malfoys had their own language.

Being ‘useful’ actually meant, in normal language, that someone was ‘important’ in the sense of ‘friend,’ meaning ‘ally.’

So, if a Malfoy would say, “You are a usefull ally,” they actually meant “You are an important friend,” or something along those lines, but Blaise had gotten slightly off-topic.

“Do the Purebloods really hate Christians? And if so, why?”

“As you might remember, the Christians hunted wizards and witches down, see Holy Office. Blaise, if you really want to be seen as a Pureblood, you really should learn more about our customs. It’s a wonder you have survived these last six years.”

“Mainly because of you,” the dark-haired boy answered, ignoring the uneasiness of his friend because of those words.

“So, Pansy and you, you have never slept with eachother? Maybe kissed? Is it because you are gay? Are you, by the way? If yes, are you crushing on Harry Potter, because I have felt some slightly disturbing vibrations…”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. I don’t know! Maybe. – Blaise!”

“Snape really is interested in your father? How do you know?”

“Yes. Ugh! Because he interrogates me about my father and writes the answers down. Blaise Zabini!”

The dark-haired boy didn’t even listen anymore, as he was trying to assimilate the answer. While Draco complained in the background, Blaise ignored him with a clear conscience, sifting through the different answers.

“You have no idea whether you are gay or not?”

“—crazy. Yes! Blaise! I thought you were my ally, so work with me, not against me!”
“Hey, Bitzy,” Pansy whispered, leaning forward from behind them. “If you have finished with Draco, can I have him?”

“Sure, take him.” Saying this, Blaise turned around, rethinking what he had learned during that day.

“So, Dracy-Poo,” Pansy began as a malicious smile spread over her lips. She took out a piece of paper and began searching for her Quick-Quotes Quill. Draco flinched, but he bumped against his table - running beneath it would have been too inelegantly and not worthy of a Malfoy. “Is it true that you hated me the very moment you first saw me? Do you still not like me? Do you think I’m attractive? Would you go out with me? Was it ever your intention to tell on Vector and me? Are you in love with Harry Potter? What was your most embarassing moment? And what are you doing with your freaking nails that they are so untarnished?” With the last question she gripped his hand, jealously inspecting his fingers.

“Yes. No. In a hands-off-sort-of way. No – once bitten, twice shy. No, of course it wasn’t. Maybe – why is everybody asking that? When you proposed to me, when we were eight. In front of my parents, even! You know, that really was embarassing. My mother sends me a potion every month. Now would you please leave me the bloody hell alone?”

The girl looked over the answers, nodding. “You know, it’s your fault for drinking that potion and keeping so many secrets from us. I’m attractive in a hands-off-sort-of way?” She looked at him, annoyed. When Draco thought she would leave him alone, she started speaking up again. “How do you know about her and me?”

“On one of my rounds, I saw you in the Arithmancy room. I never intended to use this as black-mail material, but it was my only choice. Really, I wouldn’t want to see either Gregory or Vincent in a skirt!”

Pansy didn’t respond, finally whispering a quiet ‘Thank you.’

“Mister Malfoy! Are you listening?”

“Not really, no.” The Slytherin paled, which fortunately wasn’t obvious because of his fair skin. Some of the Slytherins sniggered when they saw McGonagall’s glare, but Draco was far from amused.

“Mister Malfoy!”

“Would you kindly refrain from using my name?” Draco responded, annoyed, as he stood up. “Though it’s nice that you’re trying to remind me of my name, but I doubt I would forget it, because everybody in this school thinks it’s their duty to remind me that I am a Malfoy.” During his tirade, Draco packed his books into his bag and moved towards the door. “Give me detention until I graduate, I don’t care. Just leave me alone.” He turned towards the class, eyes fixed on the dark-haired Gryffindor. “Everybody!” Saying this, he left the classroom. However, he didn’t slam the door shut, like some would have expected. Instead, he left composed and calm – as if nothing had happened.

Draco knew that this would leave a greater impact.

Blaise guilty looked at Pansy who lowered her eyes.

oOoOoOo

Blaise looked at the unoccupied seat between Gregory and Vincent, while nervously shifting on his chair. For the remainder of the day, Draco did not make an appearance – neither in the Slytherin common room, nor at dinner, and slowly Blaise started to worry. Worrying wasn’t something one would put together with a Slytherin, which worried Pansy, and which worried Gregory – it was a vicious circle.

Potter seemed troubled himself, because his gaze flickered every once in a while to the Slytherin table. He probably blamed himself. Damn Gryffindor.

After dinner, the five friends went to Draco’s room, only to discover that the door was locked and couldn’t be opened with any spell they knew.

“Draco?” Millicent asked hesitantly, lightly knocking on the door.

“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to take advantage of your situation, and Bitzy did not either. Right, Bitzy?” Pansy asked when they heard no answer.

Blaise nodded enthusiastically. “We didn’t know you’d take offense.”

“And Vincent didn’t mean to lecture you,” Gregory apologized.

They stood, indecisively, in front of the door until they lost hope for a response.
“You know what the worst part is?” a voice suddenly asked from the other side, and the door slowly opened. They looked at each other and then entered the room, finding Draco sitting at his desk, reading a book. The blond looked up, turned around on his chair, and bent his head to the side. “I actually didn’t expect you to do it.” An embittered smile played on his lips. “Sometimes I forget that we all are Slytherin.”

His friends guilty glanced at each other, but Draco ignored them as he stood up and wandered to the other side of his room and sat down in a beanbag chair. “Sooo,” he drawled, cupping his chin with one hand. “You came all this way from the common room to disturb me when I’m working, hoping I would do what?”

“Uhm… Shorten your vengeance? Maybe just one, two months?” Pansy asked hesitantly, while the others nodded, supporting her statement.

Draco’s revenge was kind of complicated. At times it would last months, but if he was really angry it would last years. Blaise guessed that Draco was still plaguing the student who had turned his hair color lilac last year, from time to time. That the whole thing had only been an accident, Draco ignored fastidiously.

Draco leaned back in his beanbag chair, eyeing his friends, but then he stood up again, planting himself in front of the other Slytherins. Suddenly, a sardonic smile graced his lips.

“The favour of a Malfoy is something one has to earn,” he started. Blaise swallowed, because Draco sounded just like his father at that moment. “Though, for the time being, I have better things to do. After our midterm examinations—” which would be over in two weeks “—I will take care of you.”

Everybody knew what that meant. Either they had to serve Draco during those two weeks from top to bottom, or they had to suffer. A lot.

Draco might have been their friend, but that didn’t mean he would put up with everything. He had his limits, and on this day, Blaise and Pansy certainly had surpassed them – Vincent might have as well. Still, Draco tended to decide on paybacks that included all of his friends, which was setting them on edge.

Sometimes Blaise wondered whether Draco really thought of them as friends or more like a kind of guinea pig or exercise material.

“And now,” the Prefect started, jauntily turning around, “I have to change. So, if it doesn’t bother you, leave, or do whatever you always do.” Hanging around in Draco’s room, that was what they usually did, because the room was huge. And the five Slytherins loved it: lurking around the room, and using Draco’s so-called library or other things Draco hid somewhere in his room.

Blaise was awoken from his thoughts when he heard Draco’s yelp.

“Guys,” the blond Slytherin said, standing in front of his deluxe walk-in-closet. “My clothes… are missing. Meaning—”

“Your For-Meetings-With-Potter-Clothes?” Gregory asked.

The blond nodded, and the temperature dropped a few degrees, before suddenly rising to about twice it’s original. “Who was the last one in my room?”

Pansy whimpered quietly, hiding behind the desk chair. “I locked the door! Really!”

“With a key?”

“Uhm…”

“Argh, you! What should I wear now? Always the same! I’m going to go to Dumbledore and lodge a complaint! No, what am I talking about? I will go to Snape… On the other hand, I don’t want to see him anytime soon…”

“How about Potter?” Millicent asked, occupying the beanbag chair.

“… Harry! I’m going to be late.”

Blaise had always thought that Draco had a rather strange definition of ‘being too late,’ completely different from everybody else. A minute too early, was late, according to the blond boy, and to actually be late was really confusing, Blaise thought and shook his head. And now Draco feared he was running late, instead of early, and therefore too late.
Now, Blaise had confused himself, which was the reason why he turned his attention towards the on-going monotony.

It was always the same before Draco went to meet Potter: Draco would throw a fit because he would either run late (meaning too early…), and he couldn’t find his clothes, and the other Slytherins would act as if he hadn’t messed up the room like a tornado.

“I hate when I am too late,” Draco said. “Usually I would be the first there, so I could see him walking into the room … I hate this Veritaserum.”

“Why…,” Millicent started, interrupting herself as soon as she caught the meaning of the phrase, and smiled. “Draco, Draco. But you are right; he has a great body.”

“I meant to say that.” Draco shook his head. “I mean, I meant to say that. Say. He has a great body. Argh, damn it…”

“In ten minutes,” Vincent interjected, looking up from his Spelling Dictionary. “You have your date with Potter.”

“It’s not a date!”

“We are just messing with you,” Pansy murmured.

“That’s why I actualy like you… I mean… Argh…”

His friends snickered.

Nevertheless, Blaise started to ask himself, how many secrets Draco really had.

“So, how many secrets does the Boy-Who-Lies-As-Soon-As-He-Speaks, have?” Pansy asked, fixing her friend with a firm gaze.

“One-hundred-fifty-six… Why do I know that?”

“What?”

“Tell me!” Blaise demanded, while Draco threw the door open.

“First: When I was three years old, I still wet my bed. Second: At five years old, I couldn’t sleep with the lights out. Third: Still at five years—” The voice of the blond softened when he pulled the door behind him shut, though Blaise opened it again and followed the fleeing boy.

Suddenly the blond boy disappeared behind a door, and Blaise halted in front of it. Angry, he pulled on the handle, and then it suddenly turned into the head of a snake and attempted to bite him. “Password,” it hissed disdainfully, red eyes dangerously sparkling. “It’s the only way, you twerp.” The portrait beside the door snarled, and Blaise looked up, sighing.

Discontent, he sat down on the stone floor, thinking about a way to get in there. Suddenly, he remembered a spell Draco had once taught him out of boredom, as he had claimed. He mumbled the words, but instead of hearing what Draco said, he heard what was said in every room surrounding him. Startled, he shouted Finite Incantatem, and everything fell silent again.

As a matter of fact, the spell should have made evesdropping easier, but apparently, Draco hadn’t bothered to tell him of a tiny, little fact: How to use it on only one room!

After a few minutes, Blaise tried to combine that spell with another one. He grinned while whispering the words, and he waited…

And waited…

And waited…

“It doesn’t work?” He asked himself, looking at his wand and shaking it.

Suddenly… “He is late again!”

Aha! It did work! The blond just hadn’t said anything.

Content, Blaise leaned back and waited again, until suddenly the door was opened right in front of him, without him noticing it. Scared he looked around, and was about to stand up, when the door closed again.

“Do you always have to use that cloak, Potter?” Draco suddenly snapped, and Blaise could tell, by the tone of his voice, that he was startled.

“Yes, because right in front of the door, is one of your friends.”

“He is still sitting there?”

Blaise didn’t hear an answer so he assumed that Potter had nodded in response.

“You know Malfoy, concerning that Veritaserum and what happened in the Great Hall… well… I wa—”

“Save me your apology. I never would have done the same. I mean, I would have done the same – never. ARGH!”

Blaise heard a quiet chuckle, moving closer to the door.

“Shouldn’t you have gotten used to it by now? After all, the potion should wear off soon.”
“You have absolutely no idea, do you? The effect decreases over the course of time, but increases again at the end.”

“Don’t worry, it should wear off in about fifthteen minutes, and then you can walk around, acting as if you are an evil Death Eater in training.”

“I am evil.”

“It frightens me that you honestly believe that.”

Draco didn’t answer – at least not with words.

“Did your friends take advantage of your situation, as soon as they had figured it out?”

“No.”

“Oh…”

Yeah, really, ‘Oh!’ Personally, Blaise thought that they had taken advantage. Presumably, Draco refered to other friends or maybe they weren’t Draco’s friends at all, and because of that, Potter’s phrasing was wrong. That was it! Must have been secret number one-hundred-and-twenty-six.

“Though, Blaise and Pansy thought it was their duty to ask some questions, but otherwise, they tried to prevent me from saying uncalled things.”

“So, you Slytherins really are normal.”

‘I won’t stand that,’ Blaise thought internally, scandalized.

“No, we are not.”

“Aha.”

Silence.

“Concerning Transfigartion – and this is not going to be an apology or a speech of thanks, so wipe that grin off your face, Potter – that is… it was kind of … sporting that you helped me out in that situation. If you hadn’t suddenly started laughing, who knows what they would have done… Honestly, I have no idea what I would have done.”

Blaise smirked. Draco thanked Harry Potter and sounded like he would rather kiss a Hippogriff. The dark-haired boy would love to see the blond’s face.

“Do you know what you want to do after graduation?”

‘Cunning change of topic, Potter,’ Blaise thought.

“… Yes. And you?”

“Not really. I hope I will survive until then.”

“Oh, stop that! I hate it when you start self-pitying yourself.”

“You are going to do something that has to do with potions, aren’t you?”

“Something like that.”

“Would you tell me what exactly?”

“No.”

“How long?”

“Five minutes.”

“You know, I’m pulling myself together here.”

“Yes.” Blaise could actually see Draco’s smirk.

“Next week,” Potter spoke up, and then stopped himself.

“Next week,” Draco repeated. “Next week, one of us is going to suffer, and I think I know who it will be.”

“And what are we going to do?”

“Do you remember the wager we had planned three weeks ago?”

“Hmhm…”

“That, it is.”

“Not that, I didn’t like that one back then, and I don’t like it now!”

“Veritaserum is worse. And even cheating. Tsk…”

“… Alright, okay, but one question.”

“The potion still works.”

“I know.”

“What are you—”

“Are you still a virgin? And I’m not talking about your astrological sign.”

“Yes. Potter, that’s not fair!”

Blaise heard laughter again, and suddenly the door was opened a few seconds later. “I’m going to kill you for that one, Potter! Even if it’s the last thing I’m going to do!” Draco glanced up from the floor, spotting Blaise who was about to cut and run. “You are still here?”

“See you, Malfoy.” Saying this, Potter walked by and behind the blond, grinning.
“How dare he asking me that question?”

“It is quite simple,” Blaise started, completely ignoring the fact that his best friend was already angry and about to kill him. Even without the following comment. “He is in love with you, obviously. The thought of you being touched by someone else, makes him rather jealous.”

“Blaise.”

“Yes?”

“I’m counting to three. Until then, you have time to make a quick getaway. One…”

“Draco… I only…”

“Two.”

Blaise retreated a few steps, then turned around and started to run.

“Three. Densaugeo!”

“Not my—”

“Furnunculus!”

“Not my face!”

Blaise Zabini was not a stupid Slytherin…
… but sometimes, he just didn’t know when to shut up…

~Fin / Chapter 05 ~Veritaserum~

[Next] Tirade of Hate

Egoist Chapter 05 Part One

Wed, 19 Sep 2007 12:02:09 GMT

Title: Egoist
Part 5/22(33)
German Title: Egoist
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: HP/DM/HP
Warnings: slash, humour, later on romance and a bit angst
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but to JKR. I don't earn any money with this.

Summary: Singing, cross-dressing, cheerleading, potions and irritated Slytherins - just your everyday Hogwarts life. Or maybe not.

Thanks again to my betas meicdon13 and KunoichiAddy

Comment: This is one long chapter, so be prepared. But it’s one of my favorites, so please be nice. ^^°

05. Veritaserum
Point of View:
3rd Person; Blaise Zabini

Blaise Zabini was not a stupid Slytherin.

And precisely for that reason, the wizard took a few steps backwards – 50 to be accurate – when he saw Draco Malfoy in the center of the common room. This by itself wasn’t a clear indication that something was wrong. However, the fact that no other student was daring to get closer than 70 steps was a broad hint. Normally, it would have been only 20.

Blaise glanced around nervously, looking for his friends who stood at the other end of the room. To go to them, he would have to move 23 steps closer to Draco.

72 – 23 = 49 < 70 = certain death.

See? Simple math.

For that reason, Blaise tried to make eye contact with his friends, but Pansy only sent him a sneer and then fixed her eyes on the middle of the room.

Vincent and Gregory paid him no attention as well, and they were otherwise enganged, anyway. Blaise averted his eyes before he went blind.

Therefore, he surrendered to his fate and sighed quietly. Apparently, that noise wasn’t quiet enough, because the boy in the center of the room suddenly turned around and focused a murderous glare on him. Blaise swallowed, avoiding the eyes of his friend.

“You!”

He squeaked.

The common room was deadly silent, even the breath of everyone present seemed to have stopped, as nobody dared to make any noise.

The trembling of the blond was notable to everybody’s eyes, and his knuckles paled white from his clenched fists.

Faster than anybody could blink, Draco had drawn his wand from his pocket and mumbled a charm. The tip of the wand started to glow, but in the blink of an eye, the glowing stopped and Blaise could only feel a breath of wind on his cheek. His shallow breathing soon turned into panicky panting, chest heaving.

Blaise was not stupid…

He knew that if Draco had aimed at him, he would have hit, but that didn’t help to stop his rapid heartbeat, harsh breathing or the panic spreading throughout his whole body. With a slow motion, he turned his head to see who the unlucky victim of Draco’s combined spell had been.

He spotted a scared first year, huddling on the floor, hand on his head and pathetically whimpering and trembling. It wasn’t him.

His eyes wandered further, detecting a girl that had fallen off her chair. Eyes wide, she sat on the floor, staring up at Draco who leisurely set himself into motion and calmly walked up to her. His cool composure belied the anger raging in him, but if someone had spent a lot of time in Draco’s company – just like Blaise had – he would have noticed the dangerous glimmer in his eyes and how the silvergray irises slowly turned dark-gray.

The girl couldn’t move, but her eyes darted back and forth panic-stricken, desperately screaming for help which she would not find among the Slytherins when it came to Draco Malfoy. And even though Blaise could see that the girl felt like crying, tears didn’t form at the corner of her eyes. Draco must have noticed, too, because his expression changed slightly, turning more arrogant.

“You!” Draco repeated, pointing his wand at the girl’s throat. “Repeat it, once again.”
She swallowed, and tried to open her mouth, but she couldn’t make a sound because of the spell Draco had used, and everybody in the common room knew that. A sadistic smile fleetingly ran over the blond’s lips.

“I will slowly count to ten, and if you haven’t spoken up…” He didn’t finish his threat, making it even more dangerous.

“One – two – three…”

“Malfoy!” Blaise hissed, and the blond Slytherin abruptly turned around, but kept his wand pointed at the girl’s throat.

“Break the spell, if you really want to hear—”

Draco wouldn’t even let him finish his sentence, instead aiming his wand at the dark-haired wizard, and whispering a few words. Blaise suddenly felt a pang in his side. Draco knew quite well where Blaise’s most sensitive spot was, and he shamelessly took advantage of that knowledge. An amused smile played on Draco’s lips, and with a fling of his hand, he lifted the spell from the girl.

“Pro… Professor Snape…” The girl gasped, pulling herself together, “and Professor Trelawney… they kissed each other and a Hufflepuff saw it and… was traumatized…” Saying this, she stood up and fled the common room. This news had brought giggles and laughter into the common room a few minutes earlier, but when Draco had stopped in his steps and the temperature had noticeablely dropped a few degrees, everybody in Slytherin had fallen silent.

“It’s his fault,” Draco mumbled, clenching his fist, turning around and walking towards the staircase leading to the Prefect’s room. Blaise went after him, still hurting, and Pansy followed with Gregory and Vincent close on her heels.

After everybody had entered Draco’s room, the blond calmly closed the door, put a Silencing Charm on the room, and started:

“That dirty little bastard,” he shouted, and Pansy, who had been getting cozy on the bed, looked up from the book of quantum physics she had pulled out from her robes and raised an eyebrow in question. Gregory didn’t even pay attention to the exclaimation of his friend and continued looking on the desk for his magazine with the crossword puzzles he had left behind the last time he was in Draco’s quarters. Vincent took the Spelling Dictionary. Blaise, however, sat down on the floor, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

Out of his room, Draco Malfoy was to be feared, because he was under social pressure, but inside of his room, the blond would never attack anyone – it wasn’t worth the effort if nobody saw it.

“I will kill that little piece of dirt! And when I have finished with him, the Weasel and the bookworm can scrape the last pieces of him togerther, if they can find them.” Though the threat was more or less laughable, none of the other Slytherins said anything. Inside his four walls, Draco would drop his guard and mask, just like every other Slytherin. To build a mask, was one of the first things the students of Slytherin learned. Draco had his since the first day of school. Blaise would even go so far as to claim that Draco had been born with it. And it was an honor for every Slytherin to see how The Demonic Dragon dropped his mask – yet the people Draco had gathered around himself didn’t really care; after all, they were friends.

“C’mon, Draco,” Pansy spoke up, languidly closing her book. “It can’t be that bad. I mean, four weeks ago we literally left our pride behind when we stood—”

“It is figuratively, not literally…,” Vincent corrected nonchalantly, but Pansy ignored him.

“—on the Quidditch field, cheering for Harry Potter. How much worse can it get?”

Draco glared at her with a significant look, and Gregory started to snigger. The girl threw a drity look at the brawny boy and fell back on the bed, streching like a cat.

“No, really now. You dragged us out there—”

“I could have taken Vincent and Gregory, but I doubt anybody would have been keen on seeing those two in a skirt, Blaise! No offense.”

“None taken,” the addressed boys answered in unison.

“—and we have absolutely nothing to do with your bets! Anyways, you owe—”

“It’s ‘anyway’,” Vincent interrupted, turning a page in his book, as his interjection was ignored.

“—an explaination! What did you lose?”

“A bet,” Draco answered wryly.

The dark-haired wizard shook his head, stood up, and sat down beside Pansy on the bed. “Tell me something, I don’t know.”

“Who could have guessed that the Chudley Cannons would actually win a match again?”

“Quidditch? It was about Quidditch?” Pansy shrieked, sitting up and angrily glaring at Draco. “And what kind of ridiculous bet did you lose this time?”

“Who said I lost?”

The room fell silent, but then Gregory cleared his throat, looking up. “An infectious disease with twelve letters. The first is a ‘T’ and the sixth is a ‘C.’”

“Tuberculosis. Honestly, Greg!” Pansy said, turning her attention back to the blond. “Draco Malfoy, you really can be a downright—”

“Colloquial despicable person, with five letters.”

“Creep,” the girl answered without thinking.

Gregory smirked, while Pansy paled.

Draco looked at the brunette Slytherin, while narrowing his gaze. She stared at him with wide eyes, backing off. “I mean prat! I wanted to say prat!”

“That doesn’t change anything. And if I had to choose, I’d rather be a creep,” Draco answered.

“A MISTAKE!” Vincent exclaimed, leaping up from his chair and taking a quill from the desk, meanwhile looking for the red ink, and when he found it, he circled one word in the Spelling Dictionary. A content smile appeared on his lips, and he sat down in his chair again, motioning for the others to continue their discussion.

His friends clapped briefly, but they soon returned to the really important things in life.
“Where were we?” Blaise asked, bored.

“Draco wanted to kill Potter,” Pansy suggested.

“Funny, I could have sworn that – ouch!” Gregory interjected until he was hit by a book thrown at his head. He picked it up, rubbing his wound with one hand, and read the title before throwing it back at Pansy.

“Potter!” Draco smacked his forehead with his hand, looking around. “What’s the time?” he asked, while he took off his shirt. He threw it in a corner, and started to unzip his pants.

“Oh, Draco! I love it when you do that,” Pansy purred, but Draco paid her no attention, instead looking for his For-Meetings-With-Potter-Clothes he knew he had somewhere in his room.

“Bottom left,” Blaise reckoned without looking up. He heard a rustling, and sighed. “The other left.” Following these words, someone dropped several pairs of pants over his head, and he fought his way to the surface.

Draco Malfoy, clothed in boxer shorts, stood before his friend, legs apart and hands on his hips. “For your information, Zabini, I do know where left is! However, I do not know where my clothes are!”

“The house elves probably washed them,” Vincent interfered.

“Or maybe, one of your fangirls sneaked into your room to steal them – wouldn’t be the first time,” Gregory said, sighing.

“I don’t understand! We lock the room with every charm possible, and the psychos still get in here,” Pansy complained, rolling back onto the bed and crossing her legs.

“Maybe you should lock the door with a key, when you leave the room,” Draco snapped, turning towards his deluxe walk-in-closet… “What am I supposed to wear? My school robes would be improper – one might think I don’t have anything else. The other robes are only for special occasions – and we don’t want Potter to believe that he is special, do we?”

“How about just your boxer shorts? I’m sure Potter would love it.”

“Pansy, Darling, shut up.”

“By the way, it’s half past nine,” Vincent answered the aforementioned question.

“Damn it,” Draco cursed, slipping into faded jeans and a gray wool jumper. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Saying this, Draco opened the door, alter ego intact as soon as he stepped out of the room, calm and self-assured.

“Whenever it comes to Potter he is a mess,” Pansy said, opening her book of quantum physics again and sighing.

“There is a comma inbetween, Pansy, take a breath at least once in a while,” Vincent interjected and the girl rolled her eyes. “However, apart from that you are right. A mess.”
“I’m wondering what could be so bad that he would become so angry,” Blaise pondered, more to himself than to the other Slytherins.

“When he had to act like a cheerleader, he seemed perfectly fine.”

“Greg is right. It must be something really bad.”

Silence fell on the room, while everyone present smirked.

“I would like to see that.”

“WOOHOO! Another mistake!”

“Professor, eight letters. First one is an ‘L’?”

“Lecturer!”

oOoOoOo

Blaise Zabini was not a stupid Slytherin.

And precisely for that reason, the wizard kept his distance from Draco Malfoy as soon as he noticed that his friend was conspicuously taciturn and that every attempt to engage him in conversation failed. Blaise wasn’t the only person whom—

“‘Who’, Blaise, ‘who!’”

The dark-haired Slytherin ignored his friend who was giving him helpful grammatical hints, and Blaise let his thoughts wander back to the blond, who sat beside him, chewing on a piece of toast.

Blaise wasn’t the only person, who could guess what the reason for Draco’s behavior was.

However, the noble Gryffindor would never use something like Silentium Compellere on Draco… Would he…?

“Draco, did he steal your voice?”

“Who?”

Surprised, Draco’s friends looked up while the blond Slytherin bit his lower lip.
“Potter… But you just answered my question. What’s wrong? Why won’t you talk to us?”

“Because, I don’t want to.”

“Something happened?” Pansy asked, a glimmer of worry in her voice. Blaise knew what the answer would be – just like the other three Slytherins – No!

“Yes.”

“Wh… What?” Blaise stammered, while Gregory clapped Vincent on the back after he choked on some bread, and Pansy tried to apologize to the boy whose face she had just spit her orange juice on. “Did you just say ‘yes’?” the dark-haired wizard pressed on, not believing what he – and obviously everybody else – had heard.

“Yes,” Draco pressed through clenched teeth, grip thightening around his knife so that his knuckles paled. Suddenly, Blaise remembered that Draco had to fullfill a wager.

Blaise was not stupid…

He knew, that there would be only one thing that could force Draco to tell the truth and consequently, make him say atypical things - Veritaserum.

“Where did you get it from?” he asked, bending forward.

“I don’t know.”

Draco wasn’t even a bit surprised that Blaise had figured it out already, but he still seemed slightly sour.

“Merlin!” Pansy shrieked suddenly when she figured it out as well. Gregory and Vincent kept their dimwitted personas and acted as if they had no idea what was going on, as they continued to stuff food into their mouths. Nevertheless, they followed the conversation attentively.

“Do you mean to say, that this was his idea?” Blaise whispered to not attract attention.

“Yes.”

“My Drakie-Poo, what did the mean Gryffindor do to you?” Pansy screeched hysterically, pointing with one hand at the dark-haired Gryffindor who upon hearing those words, looked up and smirked.

Blaise slapped the girl on the arm, hissing “Avoid questions, you idiot!”

Pansy sighed, and looked at Draco who was firmly biting his lower lip before loosing the fight anyway and was forced to answer. “Nothing,” he said and Blaise nodded.

Technically, Draco had taken the Veritaserum voluntarily due to the bet. Potter didn’t force him to drink it, but the blond’s pride as a Slytherin did.

Blaise loved it when he could reconstruct Draco’s thoughts.

“Hopefully, nobody will find out.”

Draco didn’t answer, but lifted his head. “If he doesn’t tell anybody, nothing should happen.” Saying this, he threw a withering look at his friend, and Pansy screeched again to keep her public image.

“How long?”

“Twenty-four hours.”

Blaise nodded, looking around to see if somebody had heard them.

“He is going to pay for this,” Draco promised.

The worst thing about that statement was that it was true…

oOoOoOo

Blaise Zabini was not a stupid Slytherin.

And precisely for that reason, the wizard kept himself in the background when Vincent and Draco started to raise their heated discussion.

“You can’t be serious, Draco! The first three hours are Potions, then Care of Magical Creatures, and then Transfiguration. Everything is with Gryffindor, and you just had to go and drink Veritaserum today?!” Vincent shouted, running back and forth in Draco’s room.

“If you are bent on running a rut into the floor, do it in your room,” Draco snapped, sitting cross-legged on his bed, watching his friend running back and forth. “Furthermore, do you believe I feel comfortable in this kind of situation? Gryffindors all day long, just what I need! Don’t think it’s a breeze for me! And under the influence of that potion, it will be worse than ever! So, spare me your bloody sermon, because I gave it to myself for hours, and I am fed up with it!”

“However, I believe that you should hear it from somebody else, and preferably not from some coward who can’t get the courage up to tell it to your face,” Vincent stated, pointing at Gregory, who was calmly sitting on a chair and reading the latest issiue of “Holy Office” – a magazine for all kind of enigmas. Afterwards, Vincent pointed at Pansy, whose foot was posed on a chair as she comfortably painted the nails of her toes. Lastly, the aggitated boy shifted his finger towards Blaise, who was lying on the bed behind Draco, trying to appear like he was following the going-ons indifferently.

“I believe they are just not tired of living, Vincent,” Draco commented.

“Come back from your ego trip!” Vincent exclaimed, causing Pansy to chuckle quietly. “Under Veritaserum you can blurt out things nobody should know! And I’m not talking about your secrets—”

“Because you are of no importance, Draco, Darling,” the girl snickered.

“—but about our secrets! Somebody just has to ask the wrong question and—”

“Bang!” the witch accentuated.

“—everybody will learn our secrets!”

“Do you think I’m that stupid?” Draco asked and Vincent sent him a clear look. “I know how I have to act on Veritaserum, because, unlike you, I have experience!”
“Oh, don’t give me that, ‘My father forced me to drink Veritaserum’-speech, again. Just because he did that, it does not constitute you being an expert in the field!”

Draco’s eyes sparkled dangerously. “Don’t say more than you were asked. Keep your answers brief and terse. Pay close attention to what they ask and how they phrase the question. Besides, I have developed some kind of tolerance against Veritaserum – which Harry fortunately does not know of, and which is the reason why I can talk to you the way I want! Which—”

“—still does not mean that you are able to lie!”

“Did he just say ‘Harry’?” Gregory asked, looking up from his magazine.

“Who is talking about lying?”

“Draco, as soon as you open your mouth in public, every second word is a lie! You will never make it through the day!”

“… Yes… Definitely, ‘Harry,’” Blaise answered.

“And when I’m angry, nobody dares to talk to me. And believe me, you have no idea how angry I currentely am.”

Blaise was not stupid…

He knew that Draco was just a tad away from exploding, and that was a lot worse than one of Longbottom’s failed potions. Vincent must have noticed too, but he ignored it. “Malfoy—”
“Oh please, Crabbe.”

“Boys!” Pansy suddenly interrupted, throwing one last look at her toes, before she put on her socks. “If you’re going to continue, we will run late for Potions class.”

“Pansy is right,” Gregory interjected, standing up. “And it doesn’t matter how much Snape adores you,” he added, pointing with his chin towards Draco. “If we all run late, he is going to take points off.”

“Even if it kills him,” Pansy grinned, throwing one arm around Draco’s neck, leaning against his shoulder. “Moreover, Millicent said that we are having a quiz today.”

“Speaking of Millicent, where has she been all this time?”

The witch smiled mysteriously, bent forward, and whispered into Draco’s ear, loud enough that the other boys could hear her as well. “Has a boyfriend.”

Every male in the room looked at each other in shock. Blaise suddenly stood up, grabbed the door handle, and pulled the door open with full force. “Whoever that guy is,” he said furiously, stomping out of the room, “he is in for the shock of his life.” The other three boys nodded in agreement and stood up as well.

“Nobody is allowed to touch Milli!” Saying this, Gregory followed Blaise out of the room together with Draco and Vincent. Pansy rolled her eyes, and pulled her robe down slightly to show more of her cleavage.

oOoOoOo

Blaise Zabini was not a stupid Slytherin.

And precisely for that reason, the wizard tried to protect Millicent Bulstrode from the malicious and cruel clutches of the male society. The brusque and sturdy girl had grown dear to the boys’ hearts after all the years, and they had developed some sort of protective instinct towards her.

“Bulstrode!” Blaise shouted as he walked towards the brunette girl who was about to enter the classroom. She halted in her steps, glancing at him questioningly, before she noticed the other three boys and slowly retracted a few steps.

“Pansy Parkinson!” Millicent called out. “You told them!”

Some of the Gryffindors, who had wanted to enter the classroom, stopped and watched the small group of Slytherins, from whose center Draco Malfoy stepped forward. The blond approached the brunette girl, towering about one head over her.

“Who is it?” he asked with a calm and dangerous tone, yet Millicent shook her head.
“That’s none of your business!”

“You bet,” Blaise scoffed, stepping a few feet forward and stopping shortly before Millicent. “Whoever wants to touch you has to go passed us.”

“Back, Zabini,” Draco commanded, pulling the dark-haired wizard back by his shoulder.
Gregory and Vincent watched them, like the dimwits everybody thought they were, from a few feet behind Draco, while Pansy looped her arm around Draco’s, leaning forward. “Drakie-Poo and I just worry about you, Milli,” she sulked, leaving Draco and throwing herself around Millicent’s neck.

The poor Slytherin girl didn’t answer and let herself be lead into the classroom, and the boys sat around her so that nobody else could sit beside her. Millicent sighed in frustration.

“Hey, Malfoy. You should be happy that someone would touch her with tweezers,” the Weasel shouted. Apparently, the Trinity – as Draco liked to call them - had heard everything. The same moment that Draco stood up, drew his wand, and pointed it at the red-headed toad, Potter elbowed his friend.

Professor Snape entered the room, and after seeing Draco with his wand drawn, the man raised an eyebrow.

“Is there a problem, Mister Malfoy?”

“Yes, Professor.”

Blaise heard Draco swear quietly after his admission.

“Oh, and what problem is it, that requires taking up valuable brewing time, if I may ask?”
“Nothing that concerns you… Sir.” Again the blond answered and swore, while Potter chuckled. Suddenly Blaise noticed what Draco had wanted to tell them earlier about his tolerance: He could give answers, which were true but didn’t quite answer the full question – but he could still answer them enough to satisfy the inquirer. If that made sense…

Snape narrowed his eyes, stepping in front of his desk. “Care to elaborate?”

“No.”

A few Slytherins started to whisper amongst each other, but after one glare from their dark-haired teacher, they fell silent again.

“Mister Malfoy, is something the matter with you?”

Blaise closed his eyes, Pansy stopped breathing, Vincent grumbled something like, “What did I say?” while Gregory pinched him on the leg because of that comment, and Millicent frowned in question.

Draco bit his lip. “Yes.”

“I would like to talk to you after class.” Everybody besides Draco sighed in relief, until: “Is that acceptable for you?”

“No.”

Blaise knew that Draco was mentally slapping his face for that answer, but it didn’t matter. That was how it was.

“What did you say?”

“I said ‘No,’ but I will be there, Sir.”

Snape nodded and Draco sat down, slightly exhausted. He propped his head on his hand and sighed, while the professor watched him with dark and skeptical eyes.

Blaise looked at Draco, a smile running over his lips, and turned around, looking at Potter. The Gryffindor threw a smug look at him, and Blaise raised one eyebrow, showing Potter a thumbs-up. “Brilliant,” he formed with his lips, and the smug grin disappeared from Potter’s face, changing into a confused expression.

Blaise was Draco’s friend indeed, but he was still Slytherin enough to acknowledge such an ingenious idea.

Blaise was not stupid…

He knew that Draco must be extremely proud of Potter, in that he came up with the idea and somehow simultaneously twisted the outcome to his advantage so that Draco lost the bet – whatever it was.

“So,” the dark-haired wizard said, nudging the blond. “Potter cheated, hm?”

“Yes.”

“And it was his idea, drinking the Veritaserum, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

Blaise was waiting for Draco to drop his guard, even just a little – that would be enough. Shortly before the end of class, he launched his attack.

“You are proud of him, aren’t you?”

“Yes – Blaise!” the blond snapped, turning his head. Blaise simply grinned.
After classes, Draco only had to answer a few questions from Snape:
“Veritsaerum?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, does your father like the dark type? What does he think about flowers? What kind of quilt cover does he prefer? Would you say that your parents have an open relationship?”

“Yes, he hates them, silk, yes. Would you stop asking me that?”

“Alright, here’s the last question: Would you say your father prefers the chase or the catch?”

“The chase.” Draco grimaced, disgusted that he even knew the answer to that question. Suddenly he noticed that Snape had written it down in a small notebook.

“And stop writing it down!” he yelled.

oOoOoOo

Blaise Zabini was not a stupid Slytherin.

And precisely for that reason, the wizard kept Draco Malfoy’s mouth shut with all his might after a certain Ronald B. Weasley had asked the Slytherin how his Death Eater education was coming along, and before Draco could say something very, very wrong. Something like, oh, maybe, that he couldn’t care less than if he was watching the grass growing? No Death Eater at school would take something like this lightly, which was the reason why Blaise thought it was his duty to circumvent that answer.

Potter kindly stayed out of the conversation, although Blaise could clearly read from the dark-wizard’s face that he really wanted to hear the answer which Malfoy gave through clenched teeth and was lost in Blaise’s hand.

Before, Draco had boasted about how well he knew how to act under Veritaserum, but unfortunately, the blond tended to forget everything when he was angry. And at that moment he was really angry…

However, before something could happen, Draco took a deep breath, turned around and walked to the other end of the meadow. Before his friends could follow him, Blaise heard the Weasel asking what Draco’s problem was. Millicent nodded approvingly and looked at the others in question, yet they only shook their heads as an answer.

In Care of Magical Creatures, Draco tried everything to avoid other students, whereby his pejorative poise, and especially his fierce expression, were tremendously helpful. Yet Hagrid had already faced more dangerous creatures than a furious Malfoy, and he turned towards him.

“Could yeh tell me what color of fur the unicorn has, Mister Malfoy?”

Blaise shrugged resingedly. Draco loathed Care of Magical Creatures and probably couldn’t answer one single question, even if he always acted as if he was omniscient. There were a couple of reasons why Blaise could claim that:

1) Draco disliked animals.
2) He always ignored Hagrid’s questions.

“Yes.”

Blaise didn’t know who was more surprised from that answer; Hagrid, who must have reckoned that Draco would ignore his question, or Blaise, who was stunned that his friend could answer that question.

A pause followed, and everybody gazed confusedly at Draco. The blond had answered the original question… Nothing more was demanded.

“And what is it?” the bookworm asked, prompting Draco to say something so she could correct him or tell him off for having no idea.

“Golden.” Seconds after, the hand of the brunette Griffindor girl flew up, and something in Draco’s eyes blazed. “Unicorn foals are golden. After two years, the fur’s color turns silver. After seven, they are fully grown and are pure white. The reason for the transition of colors is the silver-blue blood, which contains an enormous strength. Chemically speaking—”

“Alright! Stop!” Millicent shouted, completely overwhelmed by the flood of words coming from the blond on the topic.

“—it’s said, that the blood of unicorns posesses a hormone that increases with age and induces a default of pigments. This is the reason why the drinking of potions, which have unicorn blood as an ingredient, could lead to albinism, which can only be reversed with the aid of melanin, a tannin, obtained from an African plant. But back to the unicorns.”

“Malfoy!” Blaise exclaimed, stunned as he moved to shut his friend up. However, one dark look from the blond, and he removed his hand before it was bitten off. Draco fixed his glare on the bookworm – challenging, drawling, never breaking eye contact.

“The blood of unicorns has a bearing on the physical functions as well. It’s the reason why unicorns are photophobic creatures, mostly appearing at night time, and it even derogates the ability of vision. Moreover, it leads to nystagmus.” Draco’s lips molded into a smirk, and Blaise took a few steps back.

“On that account, erroneously used unicorn blood can have disastrous consequences for the consumers. On this account, it is so seldom applied, despite how it could revive dead people.” The blond Slytherin’s glare shifted from Granger to Potter. The smirk adopted something diabolical. “On that account, certain villains live, and it is exactly on that account that it is used for extremely dangerous potions.” Saying this, Draco threw a significant look at Potter. Blaise knew this look. His friend used it very often. It was his You-Endangered-My-Life-and-You-Will-Suffer-Thousands-of-Agonizing-Deaths-As-Soon-As-I-Have-Found-a-Potion-That-Will-Revive-You-and-Will-Not-Turn-Your-Body-Into-Dust-During-The-Process-Glare.
Out of the corner of his eye, Blaise could see that Pansy was about to speak up, but when she looked at Draco, who glanced at her, she only shrugged without saying anything.

The dark-haired boy smiled.

Blaise was not stupid…

He knew that unicorn blood was not an ingredient for Veritaserum like Draco wanted to imply with his glare. However, Potter didn’t know that.

“Oh, and Granger. Do you remember what you said about unicorns in our fourth year?” The girl nodded, startled. “That was wrong. I actually wanted to correct you, but then I thought, why should I, if our so-called professor didn’t say anything.” He shrugged coolly. “It’s not like I care. Why should I bring a bunch of dunces a piece of wisdom closer?”
Blaise asked himself, again, who was more surprised about this statement: The whole class and Hagrid, or Draco’s friends. Eventually, he decided on his friends. That Veritaserum had let Blaise learn more about Draco than the last six years together.

“How do you know all of that?” Pansy asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest. While Blaise only slapped his hand against her arm, and Vincent leapt up, which brought a mumble throughout the class that only got louder when Draco announced – to his own dismay – that he had read it. Since everybody had assumed that the blond Slytherin wouldn’t even so much as glance at anything concerning animals, silence reigned over the students.

“Where?” The Weasel suddenly asked, sceptical.

“I subscribe to ‘Bedtime stories of Veela, Fairies, Unicorns and Other Magical Creatures’ ( - though it sounded horrible, it was still a very well-known and very scientific magazin - ) every once a month together with my Daily Prophet so nobody would find out about it. Usually, you can find such articles in there, most of them actually informative – though, on second thought, you wouldn’t know that.”

Blaise smiled amusedly.

Draco was the only one who could make the truth sound like a sarcastic remark.

The Slytherins broke out into laughter, while the Weasel and the bookworm rolled their eyes, turning their attention away from Draco. However, Potter suddenly started to cough, turning away when Draco stabbed icicles in his back with cold eyes. Too bad, Potter knew that everything Draco had said was the truth.

Draco would be in a bad mood for the rest of the day, unless something happened that would worsen his mood even more.

[Continue to Part Two]

Egoist Chapter 04

Tue, 11 Sep 2007 12:20:54 GMT

Title: Egoist
Part 4/22(33)

Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: HP/DM/HP
Warnings: slash, humour, later on romance and a bit angst
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but to JKR. I don't earn any money with this.
Lyrics: B*Witched „Hey, Mickey“, probably know from „Boys and Girls United“

Summary: Singing, cross-dressing, cheerleading, potions and irritated Slytherins - just your everyday Hogwarts life. Or maybe not.

Thanks again to my betas meicdon13 and KunoichiAddy

04. Cheerleader, Hey!
Point of View:
3rd Person; Harry Potter

“Hey, Potter.” Harry glanced up with a firm look, knowing what was going to come. “Rather hot last night, wasn’t it?” Before Harry even had the chance to raise an eyebrow in question, one of his best friends just fell off her chair. Briefly distracted from the blond boy, Harry turned to look at Hermione Granger, lying on the floor. However, as soon as That Crazy Girl’s laughter sounded, Harry looked back at Malfoy and suddenly noticed what the situation must have looked like to Hermione.

He had been out almost the whole night, and he couldn’t really sit the next morning until Hermione gave him a pillow to sit on. Suddenly Malfoy appeared and started talking about hot nights, which had been – to be perfectly honest – freaking cold!

Harry wondered why Malfoy was in such a good mood anyway. The Slytherin was the one who had lost the bet and had to fullfill the wager, which Harry changed just out of vengence.

The only condition had been ‘few clothes and two friends,’ which was why Harry had been a little unsettled. The winner could decide on ‘What, Where, When and How’.

Harry decided the bet would be fulfilled on the Quidditch field, Friday, 4 pm – the same time the Hufflepuff/Gryffindor Quidditch match would take place.

But he didn’t have a guilty conscience for choosing that point of time and place, because he knew, that if Malfoy had been the winner, the blond would have choosen the same date – or at least something as public, whatever the agreement.

Furthermore, he still had to take revenge on Malfoy for that cross-dressing.

After Malfoy’s temper tantrum when he had heard that he had lost the bet, Harry decided to tell him what he would have to do: Malfoy had to cheer for Harry. How, Harry didn’t care, as long as the blond would tell him what he would do and the dark-haired boy had time to mentally adapt to the situation without a surprise – because Malfoy was all about surprises.

So, when Malfoy demanded that Harry meet him at the Quidditch field with his broom at 11pm sharp, Harry had waited at the agreed spot. Shortly after his arrival, the lights in the Slytherin stand lit up and he was told to ‘move his goddamned ass onto the the broom and get the hell up.’ Harry had grumbled but set himself into motion to get a better look at the person that had spoken to him – and immediately fell off his broom.

At the beginning Harry had thought that he was hallucinating, but after he had heard Parkinson’s and Zabini’s bickering, he was sure it was real.

Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy were going to be Harry’s cheerleaders for the game the next day.

In retrospect, Harry was really glad that he had insisted that Malfoy showed him what they were going to do, because he would haven fallen off his broom at least twelve times while he was watching the three Slytherins dancing on the stands.

After the demonstration, Harry had stumbled back into his bed, ignoring his maltreated bottom from constantly falling of his broom.

The next morning, he could hardly move because of the pain, yet he dragged himself out of the bed and thought about how he could sneak into Madam Pomfrey’s infirmary without attracting attention.

Harry looked at his unconscious friend. Hermione had always known exactly what he needed.

Standing up from his seat, he lifted the brunette girl up and went to the entrance of the Great Hall.

Walking past Malfoy, he smirked. “See you at the game, cheerleader,” he hissed, and Malfoy shrugged as if it was not of his concern.

But if Harry had turned around once more, he would have noticed the frightening glimmer in Malfoy’s eyes and the flinching of everyone standing around the blond boy.

oOoOoOo

“Change of plan,” Malfoy said to Zabini and Parkinson.

Harry spun around when he heard the voice.

“What change of plan?” Parkinson asked, apparently still angry at Malfoy for dragging her into the situation. “And how do you even know about me and Professor Vector?”

“We will change the song,” Malfoy answered, ignoring her last question.

“What?”

“Which one?”

“Hey. Harry.”

Initially, Harry thought that Malfoy had noticed him, but then he understood that this was the title of the new song.

“You are crazy!”

“Pansy, Darling, do you know what people get for seduction of minors?”

“You snake!”

“Touché. Blaise, any objections?”

“Just the usual ones.”

Harry continued on his way.

As long as Malfoy was only changing the song, nothing could happen.

oOoOoOo

Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff wasn’t really an evenly-matched game. Everybody assumed that with Harry as their Seeker, Gryffindor would beat Hufflepuff. Nevertheless, Harry took that game very seriously just like every other Quidditch match.

“Welcome to the first match in our new season!” An enthusiastic Gryffindor six year exclaimed. “The Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff…” At that point, the Gryffindor seeker stopped listening to the words, concentrating on the snitch Madam Hooch had let free before it disappeared from his sight in the following seconds.

A few minutes into the game, Malfoy and his two friends still hadn’t shown up. Harry was beginning to get bored. The snitch was nowhere in sight, and he didn’t need to avoid bludgers flying at him, because the Hufflepuffs were too nice to do something like throw balls at their opponents’ head. And the quaffles were only flying from right to left.

Harry knew why he loved playing against the Slytherins…

The only person enjoing the game in all its boredom was Colin Creevey who was skipping from one end of the Quidditch field to the other, taking pictures of Harry almost stretched out on his broom.

“And Boodenbrock has the Quaffel. He avoided the Gryffindor keeper, and … it’s in! Finally! Potter still hasn’t spotted the snitch and treks Squiggly Wigglys, while a sluggish fight is going on on the field! If nothing is going to happen really soon, then – Oh! Potter accelerates! It looks like he has spotted the Snitch!”

The crowd slowly woke up from their apathy and stood up, hoping, that Harry would catch the Snitch, and they would be freed from that boring match. The Gryffindor seeker moved closer and closer to the hovering yellow ball, almost tasting the victory on his tongue. Only a few inches, only a few inches!

The audience was cheering for the Seeker and bending forward, breathlessly.

“The tension is palpable; everybody is waiting for the alleged victory! Potter, get that snitch and save us from our misery!”

And then it happened.

Something only Harry could have forseen.

“Oh Harry! You’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind. Hey Harry! Hey Harry!” Pansy Parkinson shouted from her location in the Gryffindor stands, where she was waving with her pompoms and lifting her legs, pushing up her skirt. At the end of her exclamation, she looked to the Ravenclaw stands where another person stood.

“Oh Harry! You’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind. Hey Harry! Hey Harry!” Blaise Zabini declared, clothed in a longer skirt than Parkinson… To the delight of everyone present, the skirt wasn’t pushed up when he did his cheer.

The audience and the players themselves stopped paying attention to the match the minute Zabini did his little performance, and nobody noticed that Harry didn’t catch the Snitch because he was too surprised by Parkinson dancing on the Gryffindor stands. Bewildered, he looked at his hand where the small, golden ball should have been, yet – nothing. He growled quietly. He should have known that Malfoy would change more than just the song. Speaking of the devil, where was that petty snake?

The dark-haired boy looked up, glancing at the two Slytherins who repeated the first sentences together.

“Oh Harry! You're so fine, you’re so fine, you blow my mind. Hey Harry!” both shouted in unison, clapping two times to the ‘Hey Harry’ and stood, legs apart and with uplifted pompoms, at the higest spot of the stands, both looking at the Slytherin stand.

Instinctly, every eye turned towards it, while a happy, cheery music started to play in the background.

“Hey Harry!” a very well-known male voice shouted, but the person the voice belong to was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, a silhouette appeared, and the boy was in plain sight.

Harry’s jaw dropped, and he had to fight really hard to stay on his broom, by forcing both hands in a firm grip around the broomstick.

Draco Malfoy showed himself in a red miniskirt that was shorter than any word one might use to decribe it. He was wearing a slinky, red T-Shirt with two red stripes, at each side and befitting to his clothes, and he held two red-golden pompoms in his hand. Legs apart, one hand at his hip, the other outstretched, he slowly lowered his outstretched arm, putting it at his hip as well. “You’ve fooled around all night and that’s a little long!”

Harry lifted one eyebrow. Either Malfoy was trying to tell him that Harry was not giving his all to win, or that Harry better start playing earnestly or he would never get the snitch.

The students in the stands awakened from their shock and nodded, while some of the Slytherins whistled and cheered for Malfoy.

“You think you’ve got the right, but I think you’ve got it wrong. Why can’t you say goodnight, so you can take me home, Harry?” the Slytherin asked reproachfully, desperately waving with his pompoms, hand on his heart. “’Cause when you say you will, it always means you won’t. You’re giving me the chills, baby, please, baby don’t! Every night you still leave me all alone, Harry!” The desperate exclaimation was followed by angry looks from the crowd aimed towards Harry, because there was a recent romour of him dating Malfoy. Harry swallowed. But if he had paid attention to Malfoy instead to his own health, he would have noticed the evil smirk on the blond’s lips.

Instead, he thought about how he could escape the soon-to-be-mutinying mob.

Parkinson and Zabini started to imitate Malfoys movement, but instead of a reproachful and despreate dance, they performed an encouraging, hopeful one. “Oh Harry, what a pity you don’t understand!” All three shouted together.

“You take me by the heart, when you take me by the hand!“ Malfoy continued alone, taking a few steps forward, and leaving the highest spot on the stands to get to center, where his house mates made room for him to stand. For the following lines, Malfoy’s lackeys joined in again, throwing heated looks at Harry. “Oh Harry, you’re so pretty, can’t you understand?”

“It’s guys like you Harry! Oh, what you do Harry!” The blond Slytherin languished and looked up to the dark-haired wizard yearningly. Harry couldn’t take his eyes of off the figure in the Slytherin stands.

“Do Harry!” Zabini and Parkinson shouted.

“Don’t break my heart, Harry!”

“RIGHT!” several students, who hadn’t fainted from loss of blood, shouted.

Harry’s grip around his broom tightened, and his knuckles tinted white, but he would not fall of his broom. He had seen Malfoy once before like this, precisely the night before. Although he was wearing pants and a white shirt and no mini-mini-miniskirt! Furthermore he had not sung that song! And he hadn’t been giving Harry wistful and seductive looks!

“Hey Harry!”

“Now when you take me by the – who’s ever gonna know?”

Harry lost his balance when Malfoy glanced up with a shy smile, bending one knee and slowly pushing his skirt up. Some students in the Slytherin stand seemed to have fainted or gotten a nosebleed, though most of Malfoy was hidden by his pompon. Probably, it was the notion that sent the blood to the wrong regions of the body and resulted in the brain getting not enough oxygen to function properly.

“Every time you move, I let a little more show!” Malfoy whispered, leisurely pushing the skirt further upwards.

“Move that pompom,” an exstatic Gryffindor sixth year shouted. His words were followed by an outcry from other students, who were watching the show with hungry eyes.

Harry forced himself to suppress the suddenly arising protective instinct for Malfoy, and to not fly up to Malfoy to cover him in longer, and especially more concealing, clothes. Instead, he shifted his eyes to Zabini, who smiled lasciviously, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. As soon as Zabini noticed Harry’s reaction – pale face, slight wavering and bending forward on his broom – he smirked, throwing a look at Parkinson. The girl was smiling as well, but she looked at the teacher’s stand, flashing a smile at Professor Vector.

“There’s something we can use, so don’t say no Harry!”

The seeker turned back to Malfoy, and his staggering was becoming more obvious. Still, he put up a fight to not fall off. Parkinson and Zabini joined into the performance again.

“Use Harry!“ they repeated with a suggestive and obscene undertone.

“So come on and give it to me anyway you can!” Harry persuaded himself that Malfoy did not just do that hip movement, and that it was only a coincidence that the blond simultaneously pulled his arms back. “Anyway you want to do it, I’ll treat you like a man. Oh, please, baby, please!” The blond Slytherin begged, moving forward and bending over the banisters to get closer to Harry. “Don’t leave me in a jam, Harry!”

The dark-haired wizard laid down on his broom, steadying himself, while he pondered what kind of ‘jam’ Malfoy was talking about. He soon arrived at the conclusion, that no matter which kind Malfoy meant, it was still rather suggestive.

“Oh Harry, what a pity you don’t understand!” The three Slytherin continued together, trying to hide their obvious amusement from their voices. “You take me by the heart, when you take me by the hand!” Malfoy repeated, while Parkinson and Zabini changed the lyrics into “You take him by the heart, when you take him by the hand!”

The blond Slytherin took a few steps back, turning around. Harry was a bit relieved, but mostly disappointed – but at that point of time he ignored that fact and would never think about it again. “Oh Harry, you’re so pretty, can’t you understand? It’s guys like you Harry! Oh, what you do Harry!”

“Do Harry!”

“Don’t break my heart, Harry!”

“Harry!” Initially, Harry wanted to ignore that interjection until he noticed that Ron was calling him. Searching the ground for his friend, Harry found him at the edge of the field, pointing with one finger at Malfoy, as he spun around and shouted something Harry couldn’t understand because of the loud music. He mused that Ron was just throwing insults at Malfoy, and Harry decided to just nod and ignore it.

Suddenly the music changed, and the three Singing Slytherins started to clap.

“Oh Harry! You’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind. Hey Harry! Hey Harry!” Parkinson started again, rhythmically clapping with her pompoms. To Harry’s shock, even the onlookers joined the clapping, and some even sang along. The Slytherin girl pointed, after her part, with one pompom towards Harry and with the other towards Zabini.

“Oh Harry! You’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind. Hey Harry! Hey Harry!” Harry was sure that with his sixteen years he had seen everything, but when he saw the Bloody Baron and Nearly Headless Nick through the windows of Hogwarts, happily singing along, he had the feeling that it was going to be a very long day.

Zabini smirked after his lines, pointing at Harry with one pompom and with the other towards Pansy.

Suddenly, in front of Harry, a person materialized and the dark-haired boy already had a good idea who that person was – and he was proven right. Malfoy was sitting on his broom, both legs on one side, firm grip around the broomstick, and he leaned forward, smiling.

“Oh Harry! You're so fine, you’re so fine, you blow my mind. Hey Harry,” Malfoy whispered but because of the Sonorus Charm everybody could hear his words. Some of the girls (and boys) cried out and McGonagall started to fan herself with a piece of paper. However, Harry only had eyes for the breath-taking quicksilver eyes and the pink lips, tongue moistening them, before they formed into an evil smirk.

Malfoy leaned back. “Hufflepuff has the snitch!” he shouted while the music continued in the background. “So naïve, Harry,” the blond purred, flying away on his broom.

Shocked because of the message that Hufflepuff should have won, Harry ignored the last comment, and turned around, desperately searching for the Hufflepuff Seeker, who really held the snitch in his hand. However, the Seeker was as surprised to find the golden ball hovering in his hand as everybody else was. He didn’t even have to search for it, and to be honest, he had been too distracted because of Malfoy’s performance to even care.

However, what nobody present knew, was that the Snitch had been fed up with the situation of being ignored and flew towards the next best living object, which had been Harry Potter. Under normal circumstances, someone would immeaditely start chasing him, but he was ignored. Pride demaged, and a tad jealous/angry, the snitch had gone to look for the next kind soul that could convey comfort, which, incidentally, had been the Hufflepuff seeker.

Harry’s mouth wide open, he now remembered and realized what his best friend had been trying to tell him when he was ranting and raving on the lawn.

An instrumental interlude followed, which Malfoy used to position himself with his broom between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor stands. Glancing first at Parkinson then Zabini, the blond smiled, nodding his head. Girls were about to fall over the banisters in their attempts to get closer to the blond Slytherin.

Harry growled, protective instincts subconsciously kicking in.

Suddenly, Malfoy rose, standing on his broom, and Harry’s eyes widened as he slightly admired Malfoy’s courage, lost game already forgotten.

“Oh Harry, what a pity you don’t understand!”

“You black out from the world, when I promise you my wand?” Malfoy smiled and unmistakably pointed out which “wand” he was talking about, but his eyebrows soon furrowed in concentration as he tried to keep his balance on the broom. “Oh Harry, you’re so stupid, can’t you catch a snitch? It’s just like you Harry! What did you do Harry?” And Harry could hear from the tone of voice that the blond boy used, that he was scolding him as if he were a little kid.

“Do Harry!” The audience suddenly shouted and he looked around, surprised.

“You lost the game, Harry!” Again, an amused smile crept over Malfoy’s lips and he turned to Parkinson as well as to Zabini, nodding once again as if that nod was some kind of signal for the other two Slytherins.

“Oh Harry, what a pity you don’t understand.”

“You think you are the man, when you catch it with your hand?” The salacity in this sentence wasn’t lost on Harry, his ears reddening.

“Oh Harry, your so stupid, did you work it out? I hope for you Harry! Be ashamed Harry!”

“Shame Harry!”

“You lost the game, Harry!”

“AGAINST HUFFLEPUFF!” someone from the audience shouted and the flush spread from his ears to his face.

“But Harry, what a pity he will understand.”

“You think he is your man, giving you his helping hand?”

Slightly bewildered Harry looked around questioningly, trying to figure out whom Malfoy was talking about until he noticed that the pompoms of the Singing Slytherins were directed towards Dumbledore.

“Oh Harry, your so lucky, he will help you out! Yes, good for you Harry! Still shame Harry!”

“Shame Harry!”

“You lost the game, Harry!”

Music faded out in the background, and the Slytherins disappeared with a final, “Hey Harry,” while Harry humbily landed with his broom, stumbling over the field as students watched him like a hawk. He bowed his head in shame, tried to hide his blushing face.

“I demand a retake!” Harry heard the scream throughout the whole field and turned towards Ron, who glared at Madam Hooch, who tried to stow away her used up handkerchieves.

“I understand your feelings, but the Hufflepuff Seeker caught the snitch fair and square. I would have to ask the headmaster and the captains of the different teams before making a decision.”

“I am the captain of the Gryffindor team and I agree. You do too, don’t you?” Ron asked a shy, brunette girl – the captain of the Hufflepuff team. She briefly looked up, but then nodded before she tried to hide behind her hair. Content, the redhead turned towards the teacher stands. Madam Hooch followed his gaze and got a nod from Dumbledore.

Nodding contentedly, Ron stomped towards his best friend who had followed the discussion with one ear.

“That was the worst the Cheerleader of Darkness—”

“Who?”

“Malfoy, of course!”

“Aha…”

“—could have done! Does this belong to your—”

“Ron! Scream louder! I think my aunt hasn’t heard you yet!”

The redhead glanced at Harry deprecatingly, but to Harry’s unending relief, the look wasn’t aimed towards him.

“Sorry, mate, but like Malfoy had so nicely put it: You lost the game, Harry! Against Hufflepuff! However, because of the obvious distraction we can repeat the game.”

Really, Harry would have thanked Ron for the second chance, but the singing and nagging thought kept lingering in his mind. He lost the game. This time he couldn’t blame Dementors, or anything else, this time it was his fault.

Gloomily, Harry lurked into the changing rooms and wandered into his room to hide. His friends kept their distance – possibly because they knew what would happen if they dared attracting his rare fury.

OoOoO

Harry threw the door open, looked around, and upon finding the blond bastard, Harry slammed the door behind him.

“Potter,” Malfoy drawled, a smirk playing on his lips.

Yet Harry didn’t answer. He approached the blond Slytherin and withdrew a phial, placing it on the table. Malfoy just raised an eyebrow, inspecting the phial as he turned it around in his hand and placed it back on the table.

“As you wish, Potter,” he said. “And I better not ask where you got that form, should I?”

The dark-haired wizard didn’t respond, but kept glaring at the Slytherin.

Malfoy sighed. “How long?”

“Twenty-four hours.”

“And if you are going to lose?”

“I won’t.”

“Any special rules?”

“None.”

The Slytherin frowned, bending his head slightly to the side, and watching Harry, as if he was trying to decipher a mystery. Then, a provoking smile ran over his lips.

“Alright,” Malfoy answered.

Without further ado, Harry turned around and left the room, leaving behind an amused Malfoy.

~Fin / Chapter 04 ~Cheerleader, Hey!~

[Next] Veritaserum

Memento

Mon, 10 Sep 2007 12:27:44 GMT

This is my memento for my beloved dog Jacky, who (yes! who!) was laid to sleep on the 18th, July, 2007! I still miss her, even made a video which I will upload as soon as my internet is working again.

She was probably my only love.

Stupid Internet

Sat, 08 Sep 2007 16:35:45 GMT

I hate my life.

Today, my father celebrates his birthday. I had been up all day (I mean it, the last time I slept was yesterday, 1pm...) and the only good thing about being here at the end of the world is the internet I now can use.

I have to watch soccer Something vs Reutling and I want to get home! In a warm bed.

My internet has been down for ages and I miss it. ;_;

Greetings to Isi, yes, I'm still alive, how is the picture comming along? XD

Anyway... time to go, Dinner is ready.

Moku

Egoist Chapter 03

Tue, 04 Sep 2007 10:59:12 GMT

Title: Egoist
Part 3/22(33)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: HP/DM/HP
Warnings: slash, humour, later on romance and a bit angst
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but to JKR. I don't earn any money with this.

Summary: Singing, cross-dressing, cheerleading, potions and irritated Slytherins - just your everyday Hogwarts life. Or maybe not.

Thanks again to my betas meicdon13 and KunoichiAddy

Comment: I only wrote this chapter because some people requested it – actually, I didn’t even want to translate it, but the beginning of next chapter wouldn’t make sense otherwise and I was too lazy to re-write it... ^^°

03. High-Five, Crossdressing
Point of View:
3rd Person; Hermione Granger

~One week before the duet~

I always thought that the relationship between Malfoy and Harry was a little odd. It began in their first year, when they started to throw insults at each other and it continued during the second year, as their quarrels became more creative and downright rude. Suddenly, in their sixth year… it more or less stopped without warning.

Everybody had noticed the change.

Everybody had noticed that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy ignored each other.

When I asked Harry about his sudden behavior, he just shrugged and smiled which meant something along the lines of: I have no idea, Hermione, but if he ignores me, I will ignore him too.

At that time I just thought: Boys! until I noticed, what that would mean: Peace! Or at least: a truce! No potions suddenly and inexplicably blowing up in Potions, no tripping the other up, no harassment at breakfast, no detention and so on.

I was ecstatic – or as delighted as I could get - until I learned about the real truth behind that so called ‘truce.’

It started off with me leaving the library and heading towards the Gryffindor tower. I rounded a corner and saw Harry, sitting on his bottom at the end of the steps. He was looking a bit confused, with one hand at his forehead. Malfoy stood on the steps, looking down at him.

My conclusion: Malfoy had tripped Harry on the staircase again.

Just as I was about to walk up to them and hex Malfoy into next year, the blond suddenly extended his hand to Harry, who actually took it and let himself be helped up by the Ferret.

“Sorry Potter, didn’t see you there,” Malfoy mumbled and I snorted. As if.

“No, it was my fault. I should have watched my step,” Harry answered, and I was stunned.

Did they actually have a civilized conversation?

Both exchanged some more words and as soon as Malfoy had disappeared I walked up to Harry, and turned him around by his shoulders.

“Speak, now,” I prompted.

Harry just smiled innocently. “Malfoy is always like that, if nobody else is around. If he knew you were there, he would have behaved differently,” Harry mumbled under his breath, nervously running his hand through his hair.

I didn’t believe him - not one single word.

That same night, I followed him out of the Gryffindor common room, through several corridors I never even knew existed. However, as I had read in “Hogwarts, A History,” there were a few corridors that only appeared during certain phases of the moon. I soon lost my orientation, and hoped that I wouldn’t lose sight of Harry because I didn’t believe that I would be able to find my way back without him.

So, I followed Harry and at one point, he stopped in front of a small door, adorned with several snakes. The whole area was screaming ‘SLYTHERIN!’ but my friend opened the door with a few mumbled words and went through it without a care in the world.

I waited about ten minutes before I crept closer to the door, obviously eavesdropping.

I could hear Harry’s voice, followed by the voice of another boy, though I couldn’t understand what they were talking about. When I moved even closer, the door was suddenly wrenched open and I stumbled forward, falling into the arms of … Slytherin crest on his robe? Silk? The smell of hair gel? Draco Malfoy!?

“Whoops, Granger. Not so hasty!” Malfoy leered.

Dra… Draco—

“Leave her alone, Malfoy.”

“Just kidding, Potter. You are always taking everything far too seriously… Gryffindor.”

Mal…

“You say it like it were an insult.”

…Malfoy…

“It is, for every Slytherin.”

“But I’m not a Slytherin!”

“Thank Merlin! You would have been a disgrace for everybody.”

“Malfoy!”

“DRACO MALFOY!” I suddenly burst out, noticing that Malfoy had stepped a few feet towards Harry and they both were giving each other odd looks. Immediately I had my wand in my hand and pointed it at the Deatheater-in-Training but he only raised an eyebrow – Oh! Those eyebrows! He has to be plucking them! And he must have rehearesed that look for hours in front of his mirror; otherwise, it wouldn’t make such an impact!

“Potter, get your pet back on the leash.”

“Malfoy!” Harry and I shouted in unison, and the blond crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Has anyone ever told you that you spend too much time together?”

Harry rolled his eyes and snorted, while my wand remained pointed at the Princess of Darkness.
“Harry, what is the meaning of this?” I asked warily, eyes on the Blond Devil – I think I use too many nicknames – who lazily leaned back against the wall and looked at me with indifferent eyes.

At that moment, I noticed, that Malfoy had changed over the years.

In third year, he had whimpered like a kicked ferret when I pointed my wand at him, but now he didn’t even blink.

Harry’s sigh brought me back to the present and I turned towards him, still waiting for an answer.

“Hermione, maybe you should move your wand and sit down before you hurt me – or someone else (in other words Malfoy),” advised Harry.

I took a deep breath, sat down on the floor, and looked at them expectantly, though my wand was still in a firm grip.

“You see, Malfoy and I… well… we have…”

“Spit it out Potter. I don’t have forever.”

“Malfoy, if I have to explain our situation, I would like to be as gentle as possible.”

“Granger is not a child anymore! She will cope!”

“She is my friend and I don’t want to hurt her!”

“Hurt? Why hurt? Potter, you are such a drama queen!”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Look it up in a dictionary! You know, what a dictionary is, right?”

“Mal—”

“Enough!” I exclaimed, and both fell silent. “I’m still here, Harry, Malfoy.” I looked at them, making sure that they wouldn’t start quarreling again any time soon. “And I don’t like it, when people talk about me as if I’m not present, alright? So—what were you going to say, Harry?”

“Malfoy and I… we… well…”

“We discovered a new method to compensate our aversion. It’s more discreet, brings up less detention and is wittier.”

Harry snorted disdainfully when he heard the last comment, and I could imagine, that it would only be funny if you were a Slytherin. Irritated and near a headache, I massaged my temple. “Harry?”

“It’s true… And it can be funny… sometimes.”

I noticed how both threw an evil smirk at each other, which shocked me, not because of Malfoy, mind you, but because of Harry. He looked… dangerous…

“And what is that so-called method?”

“We bet, Granger. Once a week. And simultaneously decide what the loser has to do.”

I glanced at Malfoy and then at Harry, contemplatingly, and I noticed Malfoy’s slightly triumphant smile on his lips.

“I was… a bet?” I asked quietly and looked at the floor.

Nobody said anything, although I had expected Malfoy to take his chance and brag about his win.

Suddenly, Harry bitterly murmured: “We bet about how long you would take to figure out what really is going on between us. I said you would find out in the first few months – before November -, Malfoy said you would need longer. So, the bet ended on November, 30th, meaning today or precisely, yesterday.”

I thought that I would never be able to close my jaw, until Malfoy started laughing. Growling, I threw a dirty look at him.

“I thought you had already figured it out but it looks like you were very content not knowing.”

His sardonic laughter echoed through the halls, sounding hollow in my ears. I glared at him until I looked at Harry.

“Only a few minutes earlier!” he mumbled. “Why didn’t you come a few minutes earlier?” I looked at my watch and noticed, it was only ten minutes after midnight.

“Well, it’s not like this is my fault,” I defended myself, remembering the wager. “And? What do you have to do?”

Again I could hear Malfoy’s laughter, and glared harder at him.

“That is something you are going to figure out today. Just like everybody else.”

Oh, oh, something public.

I glanced at Harry again.

“Well, Granger, I would like to say that it was a pleasure meeting with you, but my mother taught me not to lie. See you next week Potter, same place, same time.” Malfoy set himself in motion, but halted again and looked at Harry. “By the way, Potter, I suggest something green; it emphasizes your eye-color. Slytherin-colors would really suit you.” Having said that, the blond continued on his way, and I gapingly stared at his disappearing figure. Eventually, a sudden movement by my side made me turn, and I followed Harry, who was walking through the corridors of Hogwarts, seemingly not caring about us being caught by Filch.

“Well, Harry, I read in ‘Hogwarts, A History’—”

“Not now, Hermione!”

“I just wanted to say—”

“Hermione!”

“—that ‘Hogwarts, A—”

“Not now, Hermione!”

“Harry…”

However, Harry hastened his steps and I almost had to run to keep up with him. I thought about talking to him again, but decided against it, following him quietly instead until we arrived at the painting of the ‘Fat Lady,’ and I threw an uncertain glance at him that he failed to notice. His forehead was wrinkled into a frown, and he was chewing on his lower lip - a sure indication that he was in serious contemplation.

“It can’t be worse than Malfoy’s song a few weeks ago, can it?” I asked quietly.

“It can.”

“What is it?”

“Malfoy and I decided to never talk about this to anybody else. You will have to wait.”

“Could it be worse than the howler you had to send last week? Because I still hear rumours about it, though most students think it was only a joke someone played on you and Malfoy, using your voice.”

“Thank goodness,” he sighed, rubbing his temple.

As soon as we entered the common room, Harry went up to the boys’ rooms.

He didn’t even bid me goodnight.

The following day, as I was sitting in the Great Hall, reading the latest issue of my Daily Prophet, and waiting for Ron and Harry to join me, an irritated redhead sat down beside me and stared at me.

“What?” I asked.

“Harry doesn’t want to leave the room. Something about a crisis he is undergoing… or something.”

At that very moment, I remembered the lost bet and it wasn’t just because Malfoy looked with an evil glimmer towards the door, but because a girl with shoulder-length, dark hair and bright, green eyes entered the hall, and everybody’s head turned towards her.

“Bloody hell,” I exclaimed, ignoring my slip of the tongue for a moment and standing up, while Ron looked at me, baffled, before he turned towards the doors as well, jaw dropping.

“Is… is that… Harry?” he asked, standing up.

Harry – because yes, it was Harry – approached us and sat down beside Ron, smiling as if everything were perfectly normal.

Well, everything was normal: Malfoy was still a git, the Great Hall was filled with vivid chatter, and everybody stared at Harry – Harry Potter was a girl!

“Harry, what the—?”

The dark haired boy interrupted me with a wave of his hand, and I swallowed, sitting down again.

“Nice dress. Green, I see, emphazises your eyes. It’s nice to see them for a change, with your new cut and all,” Lavender said, inspecting Harry. I threw her a warning look, but the other girl just shrugged.

“Har… Harry?” Poor Ron. It must have been a real shock for him, seeing his best friend in girls’ clothing.

“That make-up, did you do it yourself?” Lavender asked again, completely ignoring me and Harry nodded, blushing. “You know, it really looks good, though you still need some help. Care if I lend you a hand?”

“Oh. My. God! Harry!” Oh no, no, no, no, no, no! Not— “You look really hot! Would you go out with me?”

“Seamus!”

“Ha… Harry...?”

“Oh my, and your arse—”

“Seamus Finnigan!”

I threw a look at Harry, who was trying to hide under the table, face getting redder and redder.

“Merlin, Potter!” Oh no! Not him!

“Mister Potter!”

Fortunately, Professor McGonagall stopped every possible word from coming out of Malfoy’s mouth, with her sudden appearance. Harry swallowed and looked at our Head of House. “Care to elaborate, Mister Potter?”

“Well, you see…” he stopped himself, and I could hear Malfoy snickering. Harry growled. “It… it’s an identity crisis, I swear! I’m just trying to find… find my… female side?”

Nervous coughing spread throughout the hall, and some students looked at each other sceptically. Malfoy was the first to interrupt the murmur by bursting out in laugher - not nervous laughter, but cruel, malicious, and smug laughter. His lackeys started to join him.

I glared at him, seething with anger, but he only raised one eyebrow – those perfect eyebrows every girl would murder for, and those long eyelashes! – as if he wanted to ask me whether or not I thought the situation was kind of funny. If it had been someone else, maybe I would have laughed, but this was one of my best friends, who by the way, stole the show from every girl and even made Ron ignore me.

And so, the following week went by with Harry in women’s clothing. He would let Parvati and Lavender style him, and he accepted make-up advice as if he were a girl.

Draco Malfoy continued to make stupid comments, causing Harry to throw vases around in the common room – Parvati told him that throwing things around would be more ‘feminine’.

Ron Weasley blushed and averted his eyes everytime his best friend entered a room.

Pansy Parkinson plotted several assassination attempts on Harry, because he kept stealing the attention of the one-and-only Draco Malfoy.

Neville Longbottom repeatedly knocked over his cauldron everytime Harry tried to help him.

Severus Snape couldn’t have been more irritating everytime he looked at Draco Malfoy and seemed to smile at him, which would have made Dumbledore somewhat jealous if he were around.

Professor Minerva McGonagall irritably transfigured whips back into feathers when students continued to create the leather weapons when they were supposed to be making books appear – that was a really distrubing insight into the psyche of my schoolmates, by the way.

Dean Thomas jealously threw murdeous looks at Harry everytime Seamus made a pass at the cross-dresser.

And more than once, I heard Harry mumbling ‘I will pay you back for this. You are going to bleed, Malfoy.’ Every time Seamus would make a pass at him, and Harry had to answer: “It’s an identity crisis! I’m not gay!” and Malfoy would walk by, snickering,

All things considered, I wasn’t the only one who was happy after the one week was up, and Harry went back to normal as re ran around with his usual haircut and robes.

Harry looked like a boy again.

Malfoy was still a git.

Ron realized that there are other people besides Harry.

Pansy stopped plotting assassination attempts.

Neville was still knocking his cauldron over. I really should talk to him.

Snape stopped giving Malfoy irritating smiles.

McGongall had to transfigure broken hearts instead of whips.

Dean Thomas started assasination attempts, because Seamus was still making passes at Harry.

And more than once did I hear Harry mumbling ‘I will pay you back for this. You are going to bleed, Malfoy.’ Every time Seamus would make a pass at him, and Harry had to answer, “It was an identity crisis! I’m not gay!” and Malfoy would walk by, snickering,

OoOoOo

And now, one week after the duet of the two rivals with the song ‘The one that I want’ Harry is walking into the Great Hall … limping? No, that isn’t the right word. He is walking as if his bottom… No, won’t go near that thought…

I raise one eyebrow in question, but don’t comment on his ruffled appearance. Harry scowls but starts to whimper as soon as he sits down, fidgeting on his chair.

Without saying a word, but studying him with calculating eyes, I just charm a pillow under his bottom. He sends me a grateful smile and nods in acknowledgement.

And no, I’m not interested in what he did last night to leave him in this condition.

He could tell me really disturbing things.

“Hey, Potter.”

I close my eyes. I will probably now get the answer to the question I avoided to ask.

“Rather hot last night, wasn’t it?” The blond drawled.

People leapt up in surprise when Hermione Granger, without any explaination or reason, fainted in her seat and fell down on the floor.

In the background, one could hear a girl laughing in delight, whistling, as she threw a look back and forth between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

~Fin / Chapter 02 ~High-Five, Crossdressing~

[Next] Cheerleader, Hey!

Egoist Chapter 02

Fri, 24 Aug 2007 23:19:58 GMT

Title: Egoist
Part 2/22(33)
German Title: Egoist

Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: HP/DM/HP
Warnings: slash, humour, later on romance and a bit angst
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but to JKR. I don't earn any money with this.
Lyrics – Grease

Summary: Singing, cross-dressing, cheerleading, potions and irritated Slytherins - just your everyday Hogwarts life. Or maybe not.

Thanks again to my betas meicdon13 and KunoichiAddy

Roles:
Draco = Danny
Harry = Sandy
Hermione, Blaise, Ron, Vincent, Gregory = Background

Comment: I found more than one version of this song, so I took the one that suited me best. By the way, I had fun discussing this chapter with a friend while simultaneously watching this part on you tube. Instead of John Travolta, I actually saw Draco and couldn’t stop laughing. And even though I said I would make Draco act this out, I was too embarrassed in the end. Poor Draco has to suffer so much. So, no ass-shaking, ass-goggling, WOAH!-screams, just Draco - not as embarrassing as dear John. And Harry is not as cool as Olivia Newton John. I had completely forgotten how high John’s voice was… just thinking of Draco talking like that kills me. XD

02. The One that I want
Point of View:
3rd Person; Draco Malfoy

Draco Malfoy couldn’t believe it.

He lost a bet against Potter again! Malfoys did not lose bets! Alright, it was a draw, and that was the reason why Potter was dragged into the situation as well. Nevertheless, Malfoys did not have draws! They won!

A Malfoy did not fight with bare hands, fall in love, trust other people, or lose bets! But if, in the unlikely event, a Malfoy did happen to fail one of these dogmas, he accepted it with dignity and would bear it with grace.

But usually a Malfoy doesn’t have to sing a bloody Muggle-Musical-song and worse - a duet!, he thought embittered, leaning back against the wall. On on one side stood Gregory and on the other Vincent, as they were waiting in front of the doors to the Great Hall for the appearance of the The Boy Who Lived to Make His Life Miserable.

Blaise Zabini, opposite to Draco, just grinned smugly.

Draco snorted and turned his head to the side.

As soon as Blaise had heared about the bet, he had told Draco that he certainly was going to lose, but the blond boy didn’t even listen and still accepted it. Thus, the dark-haired Slytherin was gloating, while Draco wanted to hide away in a tiny dark hole, where nobody could find him. However, that was something Malfoys did not do as well - just like how they did not snort.

Suddenly Draco heard voices, and he looked up. Shortly afterwards, the Trinity came around a corner. Potter walked in the middle with a smug grin, while the Weasel and Granger wore a bewildered look on their faces. Potter whispered something to them, and immediately they turned to stare directly at Draco.

Then the Weasel started to laugh, and had to lean against the wall for support. Granger was just shaking her head, yet a smile played on her lips.

I can’t even understand why Potter thinks that this is even remotely funny, Draco thought, raising his chin haughtily to look down on the three Gryffindors. Potter has to make a fool of himself, too. the blond took one step towards the dark-haired boy, giving him a challenging look.

Suddenly Blaise started to laugh like a loony, just like the Weasel, but Draco ignored them. He had his own problems. For example, how would he explain everything to his mother, when Pansy couldn’t keep her mouth shut and told everything to her parents, who would tell his mother, who would tell him about it, as if he hadn’t been there himself?!

Draco rolled his eyes, getting irritated just thinking about it, and the dark-haired Gryffindor threw a questioning look at him.

Irritated, the Syltherin pointed with his thumb at the students around them. A knowing smile ran across Potter’s lips, and Draco shrugged. Handing his bag to Vincent, Draco positioned himself in the middle of the hallway, while Potter slowly nodded to signal that Malfoy could begin.

Off you go – with style, he told himself, waving his wand and music started to play.

The students, who had started to surround them, looked at each other.

They had known that something was going to happen, because whenever Potter and Malfoy encountered each other, something always happened, though they hadn’t expected a continuation of what had happened the last time.

These last few weeks, dubious events occurred between these two rivals. For example, there was the song Draco sang in the Great Hall, or the love-howler by Potter for the blond boy, and cross-dressing Potter did for one week, yet nobody could see the connection, except of a few exceptions like Granger, Blaise, and that strange girl that had out of the blue started asking what the next wager would be.

Potter and Draco tried to take no notice of her, but she was extremely persistent and down-right frightening.

Idiots, Draco cursed, waiting for his entry which came the following second. “I got chills, they’re multiplyin’” He sang without any emotion, expressing his disdain with one glare towards Potter, but then he changed into the persona of ‘Danny’.

Whatever he would do, he would do it right, which is why he stepped towards Potter, taking his robe off and throwing it at Gregory the same time Harry leisurely threw his robe at Granger.

“And I’m losin’ control ‘cause the power you’re supplyin’.” He looked at Potter and pointed with one hand at the Gryffindor, before suddenly getting down on his knees. He appeared as if he was going to pray at Potter, and his silver-gray eyes sparkled. “It’s electrifyin’.”

“Eletrifyin’, electrifyin’,” Vincent and Gregory echoed.

Potter looked down at him, and the blond Slytherin tried to keep as much dignity as possible.

“You better shape up, ‘cause I need a man.” The dark-haired wizard started to sing, pushing Draco backwards with one foot, and then just walking away. Draco tried to get up as fast as possible, following Boy Wonder. And the Weasel and Blaise started to burst out into laughter.

Draco was so going to kill them after this.

Granger smirked although she tried to hide it, while some of the other students just giggled or grinned. Suddenly Potter turned around, and putting one hand on Draco’s shoulder, he forced the Slytherin backwards as the Gryffindor advanced. The look in Potter’s eyes turned gentle and he smiled fondly. “And my heart is set on you.”

Draco hesitantly smiled back, thinking that he would really like to just jump out of the next window and get this life over with. Yet, he stayed in his persona, and even though he played surprised, his eyes were still longingly directed towards the dark haired Gryffindor.

“And my heart is set on you,” Granger repeated quietly, looking at the Weasel, but the idiot didn’t even notice it, because he was lying on the floor, still laughing stupidly.

“You better shape up, you better understand, to my heart I must be true.”

“Nothing left, nothing left for me to do,” Draco sang and, looking into the Gryffindor’s eyes, he took the other’s hands in his own. “You’re the one that I want. You are the one for ooh ooh ooh, honey. The one that I want. You are the one for ooh ooh ooh, honey! The one that I want. You are the one for ooh ooh ooh!” Draco was about to get sick. I can’t believe I just said ‘ooh ooh ooh’ to that. … I can’t believe I just called it ‘that’… I can’t believe I called Potter ‘Honey’! When this is over I’m so going to jump out of that window!

While Draco had these more or less disillusioned thoughts, Blaise and the Weasel laughingly joined the “ooh, ooh, ooh” part. Granger, Vincent and Gregory also joined in with deadly serious faces.

“What I need!”

“All I need,” the Idiotic Duo somehow sang in between their laughter, while Granger, Vincent and Gregory remained rather serious.

“Oh yes indeed,” Potter and Draco answered.

“Yes indeed,” the others repeated.

During the following instrumental intermission, Draco could hear the laughter and whispers of the students, but he let them fly past him. Potter, who was waiting for his entry, breaking away from the blond and acted as if he wanted to leave, but he turned around again and smiled at Draco.

“If you’re filled with affection, ‘n you’re too shy to convey,” he informed and took one step closer, while Draco approached him hesitantly.

Blaise is looking like he is going to die of suffocation and the Weasel is trying to help him though it looks like he is going to faint anytime soon. They are both idiots, Draco noticed, trying to avoid Harry’s … Potter’s gaze.

“Meditate my direction,” Harry – Potter. Potter! breathed, bending forward and lowering Draco’s chin with one hand so that their eyes could meet. With their bodies pressed against each other, Potter took one of Draco’s hands and pressed it against his thigh, before seductively moving the hand up to his hips. “Feel your way,” the Gryffindor breathed against Draco’s lips and a few girls fainted, but none of the boys even tried to catch them.

Draco blushed and swallowed because the whispering was not planned. The touching wasn’t either. But his own following words made him blush even more, after Har—Potter leaned back, pushing his hand away again. “I better shape up ‘cause you need a man.”

“Ooh ooh ooooohh,” his friends joined in.

Most of the students couldn’t hold their laughter back, and so they let it burst out, yet the next words of the Boy-Who-Lived shut them up immediately. “I need a man who can keep me satisfied,” he sang with a rather knowing and suggestive smile and the clueless students who thought that Harry Potter was as innocent as one could get, gaped as them, though some of the other students seemed to like the other side of Boy Wonder, Draco noticed subconsciously.

“I better shape up, if I’m gonna to prove.”

“You better prove that my faith is justified.”

Draco looked up and into the eyes of his partner. There was more hidden in that sentence than most of the onlookers could detect. Although Potter and Draco never talked about their friendship – if one could call betting and having to act out the wager, however embarassing, a ‘friendship’ – they did trust each other to a certain degree and knew more of about other person than anybody else.

Harry Potter trusted Draco Malfoy in a screwed up way.

And Draco Malfoy believed him.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, asking more than the bystanders could assume, and looked at the dark-haired boy who smiled at him. “Yes,” Potter answered, while Draco started with the word “’cause,” and they ended the last part together: “I’m sure down deep inside.”

Once again, they started the refrain and repeated it two times until the music slowly faded out, and Draco and Harry – yes, Harry – stood opposite of each other, looking kind of puzzled.

The Weasel and Blaise had indeed been able to sing along to the last repetition of ‘You are the one for ooh ooh ooh, honey’ but couldn’t breathe by now because of their laughter. Granger and Gregory did try to help them, while Vincent watched, amused.

The students of Hogwarts seemed to be looking for a finale, though everybody – or at least the Muggle-borns – knew, that the song was over.

However, Draco and Harry glanced at each other with a questioning look until Draco took one step forward, positioned one hand on the shoulder of the Boy-Who-Lived and slowly bent down, but before their lips could touch, the blond pushed away with a smirk, turned around and forced his way through the crowd of students.

Harry followed him with his eyes, bemused, but then a grin crept over his lips and he followed the blond boy.

And in the background an angry ‘DAMMIT!!!’ rang out, shouted by one girl, that desperately had been waiting for a kiss.

Draco waited for Harry until he had caught up, and together they went along the corridor, disappearing behind … a corner.

* * *

Draco sat on a table in one of the unoccupied classrooms of Hogwarts, smiling to himself. In a few minutes, Harry would appear and they would decide the new wager for the next bet.

As soon as he heard the creaking of the door, he looked up and spotted Harry, who uncertainly stopped next to the door, but eventually decided to step up to the blond boy.

“I think we should do something less… public, Malfoy,” Harry said, before Draco could say anything.

“Agreed, Potter.”

The dark-haired boy sighed with relief and sat on the table beside Draco.

“People I didn’t even know started asking me whether I was still in search of my female side,” the Gryffindor started to tell before laughing. “After all I played the female part.”

“I was told I should hurry up on becoming a man – you wouldn’t wait forever.”

Harry just laughed, supporting his head on his hand.

“What did you plan for next time?”

“If I recall correctly, that girl is still waiting for a kiss.”

“Whoever loses has to kiss Snape?”

Draco looked up with an evil grin. “I knew you were into him, but I never thought you’d be brave enough to admit it!”

“Jealous?”

“Of course, Snape is the man of my dreams. But as long as he attains happiness just—”

“Shut up!”

“…”

“Dumbledore would expell us if he heard us.”

“Such a fine spicemen. Pure tragedy.”

“… I hope you are kidding, Draco Malfoy.”

“Draco Falco Leonis Malfoy de Douce-Douleur, if you please.“

“…”

“And yes, I was just kidding.”

“If Dumbledore heard this we would be expelled.”

“Alright, let’s drop this topic. Might that be safer?”

“… more or less…”

Both fell silent, then a grin stretched over the blond’s face. “You said something less public?” he asked rhetorically, but Harry still answered with a bored ‘hmmm’. “You mean something that only involves the two of us?” The Gryffindor looked up, alarmed, and he responded to the evil grin with an irritated frown.

“What are you up to?” he asked warily.

Draco leaned forward and whispered into Harry’s ear and the Gryffindor leapt up, distancing himself a few metres from the other boy.

“You… are you serious?”

“In or not?”

“Whoever wins … he … really?” he reassured himself.

Draco nodded, didn’t loose even one ounce of his self-confidence. “Whoever wins has all rights reserved.” The blond smiled, confident of his victory and winked at the other wizard with an equivocal gesture.

“I’m in,” Harry replied without further hesitation.

~Fin / Chapter 02 ~The One That I want~

[Next] High-Five, Crossdressing

O.S.T. of my LIFE

Fri, 17 Aug 2007 23:01:57 GMT

O.S.T. of my Life

This is the O.S.T. of my Life - and I'm surprised how well it fits.

Opening: Atomic ~ Blondie
Comment: Great Opening... I know that my world is small!

Awakening: Saisshu Ressha (最終列車 = Last Train) ~ Mucc
Comment: Great, I wake up with a tragedy... Someone leaves me before I have woken up!

First day at school: Foxtrott Uniform Charlie Kino ~ Bloodhound Gang
Comment: That about sums it up

Falling in Love: Won’t forget these days ~ Fury in the Slaughterhouse
Comment: Yes, yes, the first love... unforgettable... bla

First Time: Crisom and Clover ~ Thommy James & The Shondells
Comment: ... Not nice...

Battle Song: Mad about you ~Belinda Charlisle
Comment: Perfect!

Breaking Up: More than a feeling ~ Boston
Comment: Oh, a heart-breaking break-up. Great, just what I need!

Prom: Standing Outside the Fire ~ Garth Brooks
Comment: Eh, yeah, bull’s eye

Life: Te dejo Madrid ~ Shakira
Comment: I think that suits my life perfectly... in a srewed up way... Oo

Nervous Break Down: No reason ~ Sum41
Comment: ...

Driving: Snow ~ Red Hot Chillie Peppers
Comment: I knew it! You just want to kill me, don’t you? *hates driving*

Flashback: Runaway ~ The Cors
Comment: I think I’m not the kind of person running away... then again, maybe I am...

Get-Together: Sea of Miracles
Comment: Understandable

Marriage: I said never again ~ Rachel Stevens
Comment: What the hell? How often am I going to marry? Do I turn out to be one of those Black Widows?

Birth of the first child: We can’t rewind ~ The Feeders
Comment: My sentiments... I hate children...

Final Battle: Isn’t it Ironic ~ Alanis Morissette
Comment: That fits... again in a srewed up way...

Death scene: I'll Make a Man Out of You ~ Mulan
Comment: Does that mean, it’s the end of me... as a woman? Oo Am I going 'Transgender'?

Funeral: You don’t own me ~ The Blow Monkeys
Comment: That rocks. Oo

Ending: Big City Life ~ Mattafix
Comment: Fitting... and a nice contrast to the Opening.

Egoist Chapter 01

Thu, 16 Aug 2007 22:17:09 GMT

Title: Egoist
Part 1/22(33)
German Title: Egoist

Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: HP/DM/HP
Warnings: slash, humour, later on romance and a bit angst
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but to JKR. I don't earn any money with this.
Lyrics – Falco, of course! And yes, I did translate the song, because it’s a German one.

Summary: Draco Malfoy walks into the Great Hall and sings the song "Egoist" by Falco. However, this is just the beginning. I'm bad with summaries, I admit.

Comment: This Fanfiction is finished already – in German. I’m only translating it, so if there is something that takes time, it’s the translation, or the proof-reading.
There are 22 chapters, a Prologue, an Epilogue, one spin-off and as-of-now 8 side-stories: makes a total of 33 chapters (for now). I will translate the main-story first (of course).

Thanks to my betas KunoichiAddy and meicdon13

01. Egoist
Point of View:
1st Person; The Girl

Wondering if it’s true?
Of course it’s true! You should have seen it!
What?
Yes, how often do I have to say it?! Yes, yes, really! It really happened!
I can tell you everything!
Don’t push me, I’m going to tell you.
Alright, okay! Listen!

* * *

The Great Hall was filled with chatting students as always when it was time for breakfast. Everywhere the pupils talked about the recent rumours – the most scandalous one was about Goyle and Crabbe being a couple.

However neither one of the sidekicks were present to confirm or deny the rumour - though it wouldn’t matter because if they said “yes” they would be being honest and if they said “no” they would be lying.

I shrugged, when I heard about them, I wasn’t even interested in such trivial matters.
Besides this rumor, a Ravenclaw was said to have heard a Hufflepuff telling his friend that a Slytherin had seen Dumbledore and Snape in the potions classroom having an intimate talk in French. I chuckled while imagining it in my head. It was too absurd and disgusting – it had to be true, because only the truth could be that abhorrent.

All things considered, the topic of the rumors could have been narrowed down to the love life of certain students and teachers - Isn’t Hogwarts life pleasant?

To my surprise, there wasn’t even one rumour concerning one Harry James Potter. However that changed in the very moment a blond boy of sixteen years came sliding into the room and positioned himself in the center of the Great Hall.

All eyes fell on the admirable, wonderful, breathtaking, good-looking – erm… Slytherin with platinum blond hair and silver-gray eyes.

Ronald Bilius Weasley, sitting on the Gryffindor table, grimaced in disgust - though we all know what he must have really felt when he saw the stunning appearance of Draco Falco Leonis Malfoy de Douce Douleur[1]! Prince of Slytherin! Lord of the Snakes! Ice-princess of Hogwarts! And whatnot.

Anyway, let’s get back to the subject of our story, not that we distanced ourselves from it.

Draco Malfoy threw a look around, wanting to make sure that the attention of everyone present was turned towards him. After that, he searched for the Boy-Who-Refused-To-Die along the Gryffindor table, and as soon as Malfoy spotted him, the blond caught the green eyes with his own. A sneer was running over the Slytherin’s lips, and everyone in the Great Hall held their breaths, anticipating whatever was going to happen next. To public’s surprise, the two boys didn’t start throwing insults at each other, instead, Draco Malfoy – Lord of the Snakes! Ice-princess of Hogwarts! Prince of Slytherin! – withdrew a microphone from within his pocket.

In the background, an unknown music started to play and with one leap, Malfoy was standing on top of the Gryffindor table, walking towards the object of my… erm… his desire. Through the microphone, his clear-cut voice sounded.

“The whole world revolves around me, because I’m just an egoist—”

A few of the first and second years widened their eyes in wonder, though it was common knowledge that Draco Malfoy thought that he was the sun of our universe - well, he was hot enough for that - or the center of our earth - see comment about the sun. Yet, that he would actually publicly admit to it, was a shock to everyone. One glance at Potter, and I was a bit surprised to see that he sat motionless in his seat with his beautiful, green eyes wide-open in wonder. I looked back to the brilliant creature just a few feet away from the dark-haired boy, still singing.

“The person closest to me, that’s me, I am an egoist!” He was tapping with his foot on the table, waiting for his next entry, looking around with a smug look on his face.

“At the very top of the list, yes, that’s where I am.”

Every girl in the Great Hall, except for Granger was nodding when they looked at their list with the topic, ‘Most Shaggable Boy’ - but Granger was, as we all know asexual and only took company with books. They at least couldn’t resist her…well, most of them anyway.. To my surprise, Potter and Weasley were nodding too, but as soon as I took a peek at their list, I narrowed my eyes: ‘To Be Disposed of in Creative and Excruciatingly Painful Ways’.

“You have to pardon me, but I only love myself. And even though I am exceedingly and absolutely tacky—” At that part, a few sudents started to laugh, but Malfoy only reacted with a charming smile, as he continued to sing, “the only thing I bear in mind is AH! Me.”

Other students fell from their seats when they heard Malfoy’s moan, and a few started to blush. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my neighbor pulling on his clothes, and I threw a knowing look at him. He only sighed and banged his head repeatedly against the tabletop.

“Above my bed I affixed a mirror so that my own reflection can guard my sleep.”
A few obscene comments were thrown into the room - mostly from Gryffindor, but who doubted that? They have only one thing on their minds..

Malfoy ignored the interjections chivalrously and now stood in front of Potter who gaped at the singer.

“And I want to want nobody.” A disappointed wailing was going through the Great Hall, and some of the girls – and boys – left the room, crying.

“No – I want you to want me.”

The outcries that followed were ear-shattering, and I could only sit at my place, trying to resist the urge to hex everyone in the vicinity because I couldn’t enjoy the show with their squealing. Now really, when do you get to see a singing Draco Malfoy? Really!

“Until I get what I want I won’t keep still.”

With those words, he bent over the dark-haired wizard, touching his chin with one finger and closed Potter’s mouth. After that, Malfoy abruptly stood up and turned around.

“The whole world revolves around me, because I’m just an egoist. The person closest to me that’s me, I’m an egoist.”

Again, only the melody played in the background, and I wondered why none of the teachers had interfered yet. McGonagall sat stony at the Teacher’s table – still not over the shock, I guess – while Snape and Dumbledore were throwing heated looks at each other - guess that rumour was true after all. Speaking of rumours – Crabbe and Goyle…

I turned to look around, because wherever Malfoy was, his pets weren’t far and as soon as I spotted them, I wished I never had. With a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach I crossed out the rumor written on the Rumor List and searched for my wand. Surely, Obliviate I could use it on myself, right? Right? Damnit, why didn’t I listen to my teachers? Apropos teachers…

The remaining professors were either enjoying the show, or lying on the floor, blood dripping out of their noses.

“Love originates from ‘to love’ and I start with myself and if you are lucky.” Saying this, he looked back at Boy Wonder, - who has more luck than brains… which isn’t really saying anything - and kneeling down in front of Potter, he slowly leaned forward until their noses almost touched.

“It’s your turn eventually.” He whispered the words and breathed a kiss onto Potter’s lips, barely avoiding Ron Weasley’s fist that came at him. However he needn’t have worried about the angry redhead, because Seamus Finnigan lunged forward and tackled the jealous Weasley.

The face of the Irishman lit up when he looked at Malfoy, who smiled seductively, but the blond then turned his attention to the lyrics.

“Everyday I pamper my ego with a special cure.”

Again, everybody nodded. The ego-boosting of the blond boy was commonly known. It included, among other things, the reading of love letters that came on a daily basis and of relishing the compliments from his mirror [“Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”].

“But mostly I give myself everything immediately and preferably—”

He again looked at Potter, fixed him with an intense stare, and almost purred the next word:

“—pure.”

“SURE!” Everybody in the Great Hall shouted, and Malfoy, a little surprised, smiled amusedly.

“Everyday that goes with my world view still intact, I get to know myself and fall in love again. The stars are writing my name into the night sky, for it to burn brightly in your eyes.”

That statement was, unsurprisingly, true. After all, he was named after a constellation, though most of the students couldn’t even detect the Ursa Major, whereupon I am not surprised that some are throwing questioningly looks at each other.

Yet, Malfoy ignored them and repeated the refrain, while several voices started to speak up at the same time.

“What is he?” – Sex god of Hogwarts, I tell you.

“What does he have?” – Oh, sex appeal, charm, money (very important!), silver-gray eyes – should I continue?

“What can he do?” – Won’t comment on this (see sex god!)

“What does he do?” – As it is, singing, and he is damned good at it!

“What is he saying?” – The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth and me as his witness.

“Who does he think he is?” – I think he is pretty sure about who he is.

The music fell silent, and so did everybody in the Great Hall. Everyone who was still sitting in their seats and didn’t fall off, or flee the scene, stared at Malfoy. The air was thick with anticipation.

Malfoy jumped from the table, grimacing when he stepped over Finnigan and Weasley, and went towards the dark-haired wizard, who slowly turned around. Potter’s face was still screaming “What the hell?” while the blond boy just smirked. The eyebrows of the Gryffindor were twitching, and Malfoy just raised one of his own gracefully. Oh, I love it when he does that! Oh! Wiggle your eyebrows! Please, please, please! … Erm… whatever…

Malfoy moved with cat-like elegance, coming closer and closer.

Everybody was holding their breath, no one wanted to miss even one second.

“And if you are lucky,” he repeated the phrase, leaning into Potter. “It’s your turn eventually.”

The Gryffindor just blinked.

“I hope this answers your question, Potter.” And the Slytherin pressed a kiss onto the lips of Boy Wonder.

“Ah! What are you doing? Without tongue? Come on, only one little peck on the lips? I want a retake!!!” All eyes turned to me. Did I say that out loud…? Dammit. “Well, it’s true, isn’t?” I said sulkily, crossing my arms in front of my chest and glaring at everyone in the vicinity. “I just voiced what everybody was thinking,” I uttered under my breath.

* * *

Despite the odd looks I received all day long, it was still one of the best days I ever had! I hope I get a repeat of that one.

Now you know what had happened, but I’ve gotta go, before Filch or Mrs. Norris catches me!

* * *

Strolling along the corridors of Hogwarts after curfew was a dangerous thing, but when I suddenly heard voices from one of the classrooms I didn’t even care. Curious, I went towards the door and recognized the voices as Potter’s and Malfoy’s.

“Why did you do that? I thought—”

“Something is wrong with that sentence, Potter.”

“I am capable of thinking!”

“Sure…”

“Argh! I thought you were going to sing ‘I’m an asshole’?”

“It’s easier to admit to be an egoist than being a hole in your body. Furthermore, you didn’t say what I had to sing. You just said to do one song from the list. It was my choice.”

*unidentifiable noise*

“What?”

“You didn’t have to kiss me!”

“No, but it was fun.”

“Ron was puking!”

“As I said: It was fun.”

“Hermione wouldn’t stop nagging me about whether I was traumatized or not because of that! She mentioned something about ‘defilement of the soul’ and it being ‘psychologically ascertainable, that emotional disorders could result from Mephistophelian antics’.”

“… What?”

“Seamus kept asking me whether I would go out with him because I am blatantly gay!”

“Potter, I’m sorry that I am the one who has to break the news to you, but everything you do screams, ‘I’M GAY!’.”

*shrieks* “Does not!”

“...”

“...”

“So… what do you say about the reaction of that girl, Malfoy?”

Are they talking about me?

“I try to forget it.”

Hey!

“I’m trying to forget what Crabbe and Goyle did.”

Oh… yeah… me too… eww.

“Malfoy, did you see Snape and Dumbledore?”

“Yeah…”

“And McGonagall…!”

“Even worse…”

“And Filch!”

“Oh, that was sick! Poor kitty.”

I didn’t notice that… Dammit.

“Alright Potter, change of topic. I lost the last bet, and now it’s my turn to decide what either of us has to do next.”

“Your tasks are always too cruel.”

“The next person that loses the bet has to write a howler in which he has to confess his love for the other – lunchtime, Great Hall.”

“You are kidding.”

“Your answer?”

“… It’s on.”

Well, I think, Hogwarts will have lots of fun this year, I thought, turning around and continuing my way to the common room.

~Fin / Chapter 01 ~Egoist~

[Next] The One That I Want

[1] I stole that name from “Transfiguration” by Resonant. I just love that name, I’m honest. If Resonant wants me to get rid of it, just tell me and I will change it. Though I think I only use it once or twice in the whole FF O.o

Dust to Dust

Sun, 12 Aug 2007 20:47:22 GMT

Title: Dust to Dust
German Original: Asche zu Asche

Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: BZ/DM
Warnings: AU, sad, slash, romance

Comment: One-Shot, my first English fanfiction. And my first BZ/DM.
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but to JKR. I don't earn any money with this.

Thanks to my betas KunoichiAddy and meicdon13

Dust to Dust

Blaise opened his eyes, and stared at the ceiling of his four-poster bed before rolling over.

Suddenly shrinking back in surprise, Blaise looked at the sleeping face of one Draco Malfoy. Putting a hand on his chest to soothe the rapid beating of his heart, Blaise heaved a deep sigh and smiled to himself. Moving to support his body with one arm, the wizard joyfully gazed at the blond boy beside him.

Draco had started sleeping in the brunette’s bed two days ago, and Blaise had yet to grow used to the sight. Slowly, he lifted his hand to touch the pale face, chuckling when he saw a slow smile creeping over his friend’s lips at the contact. His fingers gently traced the jawline, thumb fleetingly touching the blond’s upper lip until his hand caressed the silky blond hair.

Blaise had always wanted to ruffle the neatly arranged hair, but while awake, Draco made sure that no one came anywhere remotely close to his head. A mischievous glimmer appeared in the dark-haired boy’s eyes. Draco can’t do anything about it when he is sleeping, he thought.

“Stop it, Blaise,“ Draco suddenly mumbled, slapping the offensive hand away and rolled over, taking the blanket with him. Blaise smiled lovingly at his boyfriend and brushed Draco’s forehead with his lips, before standing up and walking into the bathroom.

Confusedly, Blaise noticed that his toothbrush and other belongings were missing. After a moment, his eyes widened with understanding, and he smacked his forehead with his hand. He just couldn’t get used to it.

Leaving the bathroom, he threw one final look at Draco and left the room he had been sharing with the other boys. Walking downstairs to the Slytherin coomon room, Blaise paused in front of the massive wooden door.

“I think he is sleeping in Blaise’s bed.”

Turning towards the voice, Blaise spotted Pansy sitting on the couch and creating small air globes that she proceeded to toss into the burning fireplace.

“That’s just sick,“ Millicent responded from an armchair next to the occupied couch and carefully observed the behaviour of the other girl with narrowed eyes, looking like she was restraining herself from grabbing the brunette’s wand to stop her.

“Don’t say that, Milli.”

“But it’s true!”

“You know, Draco—”

Suddenly, the door to the Slytherin common room opened, interrupting whatever Pansy was planning to say. Two third year students entered the room, flipping through each other’s comic books that were most likely not intended for their age group.

Shrugging, Blaise left the room and continued on his way without a specific destination in mind. It was rather early in the morning, and most of Hogwarts inhabitants would not awaken for a few more hours.

Slowly following the dark corridor with one hand lazily wandering along the wall, Blaise remembered a cold day in winter, and he spontaneously started to chuckle. Removing the hand from the cool stones, the boy quickened his pace, a clear destination formed in his head.

By now May had come upon the castle, and as soon as Blaise reached the grounds, he was met with a soft breeze and the sweet odors of various vernal flowers.

Blaise always felt happy when he was outdoors unlike Draco, who tried his hardest to stay inside the castle, only leaving it for Quidditch training, Care of Magical Creatures or Herbology.

The boys had always been arguing over this topic, and oftentimes, Blaise gave in and accepted the nature less fate that would befall him if he intended to stay by Draco’s side. However, sometimes, when Draco was especially cheerful, he would drag Blaise outside and sit down somewhere in the grass, trying, and failing, to look as though it hadn’t been difficult crossing the threshold into natural world.

It was on one of these days that Blaise “pounced” on Draco, or at least that’s how the blond described it. Blaise never objected to Draco’s false retelling, knowing that the boy would throw a fit if Blaise told everyone what really had happened that day.

Blaise stopped at the waterside of the the Black Lake, stooping over to touch a flat, grey stone.

He would always cherish that stone; for it was what set everything into motion.

It was their sixth year. Hogwarts had been brimming with anticipation for the nearing holiday, and the steady snowfall only enhanced the excited atmosphere. However, Draco was a mess. He was constantly forgetting his homework, leaving his textbooks in classrooms, and screwing up every charm they were supposed to be learning. Blaise knew that it was more or less his fault; his confession must have completely unsettled the blond.

Draco’s friends had been worried, but they never talked about his strange behavior, knowing that Draco would come to them if he wanted to talk.

One day Draco snapped at one of the first year Slytherins, whose quill had been scraping too loudly on the paper, and the blond proceeded to stomp out of the common room. Immediately, every pair of eyes turned towards Blaise, who responded with a heavy sigh. He asked Theodore, who was about to go downstairs, to get him two cloaks. Upon Theodore’s return, Blaise grabbed the cloaks and left the common room.

“Still lingering, Zabini?” the Bloody Baron grumbled, interrupting Blaise’s memory.

“Still gloomy, Bloody Baron?” Blaise responded with a smirk on his face. The ghost threw a withering look at him.

“Isn’t it time to go?”

“Probably,” the dark haired boy mumbled, refelexively throwing a look at his watch. “But I still have some time left.”

“Don’t stay for too long,” the ghost adviced, disappearing into the castle as fast as possible.

Blaise ignored the words, trying to bury himself in his memories again.

When he caught up to Draco, Blaise wasn’t surprised to find that the blond had already been waiting for him with his hand held out expectantly. Blaise chuckled and handed one of the claoks over to the other wizard, who immediately put it on, rubbing warmth into his arms.

“It’s cold,” Draco mumbled sulkily.

“I noticed,” Blaise quietly added.

Both fell silent. While Draco was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, Blaise noticed that the blond was continuously looking at him, steadily moving closer, and all the while, trying to hide his face in his cloak.

Just as Blaise was about to stretch his arm out to place it around the other boy’s shoulder, Draco slipped on a flat grey stone. With a shocked squeal, the falling boy grapped Blaise’s arm to stabilize himself but his action only resulted in dragging them both down in the snow.

Blaise was completely disoriented for a moment, but he quickly noticed that not even in the wizarding world was the ground able to breathe and groan – at least, not so that he could actually hear it.

Surprised, he turned his head and stared into the quicksilver eyes. Attempting to hastily get up and away, Blaise’s motion was stopped by a hand gripping his sleeve. When he looked back at Draco, he saw the other Slytherin glancing to the side, still gripping his sleeve and pulling it.

“…too…,“ the blond eventually mumbled. His face was getting redder with every passing second, and Blaise was unsure whether that was from the cold snow, or shame.

“Me, too,” Draco repeated louder, turning his head to face Blaise and looking straight into his eyes. Blaise swallowed and slowly bent over the other boy.

“You don’t say this, because… you… I mean… pity… me?” Blaise babbled, unsure of what to say or how to say it while trying, and failing miserably, to collect his thoughts.

Darco’s eyes widened then narrowed. Loosing his grip on the sleeve, Draco pressed his hands against Blaise’s chest to push him away. “Do you really think—”

And it couldn’t have been more cliché'd, when Blaise stopped any more words from being spoken, by pressing his lips to the blond’s ice-cold ones. Blaise was bursting with happiness; he couldn’t believe that the other boy actually felt the same way. But suddenly, Pansy interrupted them with a slight cough.

Watching the boys with a look that appeared both amused and annoyed, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and spoke.

“Having fun down there?” Pansy hissed, turning away from them while they broke apart. “I can’t believe I was worried about you two,“ she added.

Blaise looked at Draco, who was gazing wistfully back, before he stood up to embrace the girl from behind.

Blaise turned his face away and slowly rose, brushing the snow off his pants. As he was preparing to leave the two alone, he heard Draco whispering. Glancing at the two friends, Blaise noticed Pansy hiding her face in her hands, shoulders trembling, and trying to move out of the embrace Draco kept her locked in.

“I’m sorry, Pansy. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Blaise could still hear Draco’s shaky voice and Pansy’s soft crying, despite the fact that it was in the past and both Draco and Pansy had left that situation behind them, never broaching the subject again.

For Blaise, it was like a stab into his heart. He had known how Pansy felt about Draco at that time - Draco did, too - but the blond couldn’t reciprocate her feelings. Pansy was the one that ended up being hurt the most, although neither of the boys intended to bring her pain.

Laughter and idle chatter brought him back into the present. Blaise slowly stood up from his kneeling position and looked at Hogwarts.

Sighing, he set himself in motion, heading towards the old castle at a slow pace. Immediately, he could feel the tension surrounding the wizarding school. Fights between different houses remained on-going with every mind harboring one thought: Which house was going to win the House Cup?

Hogwarts was a prison for Blaise, and it was only when he left the castle that he felt free.

Entering the long, winding corridor leading to the Great Hall, he sighed once again. Running a hand through his short, black hair, Blaise scrutinized the passing students.

“You slept in his bed again,” Vincent’s angry voice rang out, and Blaise turned around to search for the speaker. He found him, Gregory, and Draco in a slightly hidden alcove.

“And you stole his belongings again!“ the blond growled, wrestling himself free from Vincent’s firm grip. However, in that moment, Gregory stepped forward, stopping Draco from getting away. “Draco, listen, you know we didn’t steal them—”

“But you took them away!”

“Yes, because it just isn’t normal, anymore!”

“Why not?” Draco burst out, drawing the attention of every student in the vicinity to them. But as soon as the blond Slytherin glared at the onlookers, they continued on their way, whispering amongst themselves.

For a moment, Blaise thought about moving closer to his friends, but decided against it. Instead, he turned around and walked towards the Great Hall.

It’s Saturday, he remembered, as he sat down at the Slytherin table and stared indifferently at the food provided. He wasn’t even hungry.

A few feet away from him, Pansy sat and absentmindedly poked at her meal.

He liked Pansy; she was like his little sister. Sometimes she seemed more like a big sister or a mother. But whenever he looked at her, he was reminded of her tears she had shed, and then the brilliant smile she put on the following day.

While Draco and Blaise had been unsure of how to interact with her after the incident in the snow, Pansy took the lead. The following day, she just started chatting with them about the latest rumours, before quickly departing to spend some time with her other firends. Both boys guiltily followed her with their eyes, missing how Pansy’s smile broke as soon as she had turned away from them and escaped into the comforting circle of her friends.

Blaise knew that Pansy was strong, and he did not need to worry about her. She was the kind of person who would cry out when the pain was becoming unbearable, unlike Draco. Draco would isolate himself, and try to hide his true feelings and pain behind an apathetic mask.

“Stop tormenting your food,” Professor Snape suddenly demanded as he walked past Pansy, proceeding to leave the hall, acting as if he had not spoken. The witch smiled sadly, stabbing her lettuce with a fork.

Contrary to popular belief, Professor Snape always helps his Slytherins when they need him, Blaise pondered as he left his seat and followed the dark-haired teacher. Though the Potions Master wasn’t the most empathetic person Blaise had ever had the pleasure to meet, Blaise knew that if one ignored the cruel words the Head of House used, and paid attention to the overall meaning of Snape’s comments, one would notice that Snape really cared for his students.

One time, Blaise had sped into Snape’s private quarters without warning at three o’clock in the morning.

The professor had already been asleep, but going against all speculation, the boy wasn’t thrown out. Instead, Blaise was given a cup of hot chocolate once he finished stammering his way through an explanation of what had been troubling him.

Snape had only nodded, and despite having trouble keeping his eyes open, Snape explained to the eleven year old Blaise that the sudden reaction the boy was experiencing in the lower parts of his body wasn’t worth much concern.

“You are one of those late bloomers,” Snape eventually mumbled. He thrusted a book into the boy’s unoccupied hand – the other still held the cup - and pushed Blaise out of the room, slamming the door in his face.

Four years later, Blaise went speeding into Snape’s quartes again.

Sitting down on the old, worn-out couch, Blaise waited impatiently for the older man to finish his potion. As soon as Blaise noticed Snape laying his stirring utensil aside, the fifteen-year old started blurting everything out. Like the first visit, Snape gave him a cup of hot chocolate, approached a bookshelf, took one book from it, and handed it to the boy.

Aghast, Blaise stared at the cover. However, after awhile, he took the book with an obedient sigh.

“Maybe if you are lucky, it’s only a phase, and it will only be this one boy,“ the man answered, before throwing Blaise out.

It wasn’t a phase, Blaise thought, as a smile crossed his lips. However, it had been only one boy.

Blaise suddenly stopped following the professor and the older man turned around for a moment, one eyebrow raised in question. Shaking his head, he went on his way again.

The young wizard thrust his hands into his pockets and halted in front of a huge window to stare outside.

He was bored, but he didn’t know what to do.

Two days ago, when he would start to get bored, Blaise would find Draco and study him. Blaise would watch the blond boy when he was in contemplation and changed his expression according to his thoughts. He watched Draco when he was arguing with his friends, when he would sulk and when he would raise his lower lip every time he knew he was wrong. Blaise would watch Draco’s behavior, his actions and reactions. Blaise could have stared at his friend all day long.

Clenching his fist, Blaise leaned against the colored windowpane. He wanted to hold Draco again.

“Stop following me!”

Blaise spun around.

“Draco, we—”

Fate hates me, Blaise decided when he saw his boyfriend being followed by Gregory and Vincent

“Just leave me alone!”

Don’t, Blaise thought. He could tell by Draco’s voice and demeanor, that the blond didn’t really want to be left alone. Don’t, he repeated, observing Gregory, who threw a questioning look at Vincent.

His eyes are begging for you to stay.

Both boys just shrugged, each seizing one of the blond’s arm and dragging him in the opposite direction.

“I’m sorry Draco, but we can’t do that,” Gregory apologized, ignoring the fidgeting and pulling. “We know what will happen if we do.”

Blaise sighed quietly. He hadn’t noticed his body tensing up, but he slowly started to relax again as the other Slytherins left.

Gregory and Vincent were loyalty incarnated, and because Blaise knew that, he was sure that he could trust them. They had never changed.

Back in their first year, both boys had kept Draco between them, always protecting him, whether he wanted their protection or not. The first time Blaise was confronted by those three, he jumped to the side, awestruck. He had realized then that, if he ever became cross with the blond, the other two would make his life at Hogwarts a hell.

Gregory and Vincent were most certainly the reason why no one dared to get near Draco. The only reason Blaise ever mustered up enough courage to talk to the blond, was because his quill slid under Draco’s seat.

He was just about to ask Draco to hand him his quill, when he noticed Vincent’s nasty glare directed towards him. Blaise was sure that his quill – family heirloom or not – wasn’t really that important, and without waiting for a reaction, he ran off.

One hour later, Draco Malfoy was standing in front of him, and without a word, Draco shoved the quill into Blaise’s hand, turned around, and went back to the other two boys.

“We were running through Hogwarts… because of that?” Vincent asked, throwing one last look at Blaise.

“Draco said that quill was valuable” Gregory answered, while Draco kept them at a distance with both hands.

“You two are suffocating me!” the blond exclaimed.

The memories…, Blaise thought as he roamed the corridors, looking at the portraits on the walls. They are drowning me.

“—throwing a fit.”

“Yeah, but what do you expect? Slytherins are nuts,” a girl responded. Both were Gryffindor second years, Blaise assumed.

“But Harry and Hermione didn’t have to make such a fuss.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow as he approached the two students.

“I can’t believe Parkinson actually bitch-slapped me!” The first speaker, a blond boy, complained, touching his cheek as he spoke.

“I can’t believe Hermione did, too,” the girl said compassionately.

“And I only wanted to know from Malfoy what it feels like to kill someone.”

Blaise halted in his steps, face turning into an angry grimace. But before he could do anything, the Bloody Baron appeared in front of the two Gryffindors.

“Well, I can show you, how it feels to be killed,” the ghost snarled, reaching out with his bony hands.

The second years gripped each other’s arm and hurriedly ran off. Blaise followed them with his eyes, trying to control his anger.

“Isn’t it time to go?” the Bloody Baron asked Blaise again, vanishing through a wall.

The dark-haired boy just looked at the spot the ghost went through, turned around, and went towards the Slytherin common room.

All is well.

As long as Draco had Pansy, Gregory, and Vincent, all is well, Blaise tried to persuade himself. He ignored Potter and Granger who were standing at the entrance to the common room, talking to Pansy, who was deaf to their words of apology over what the second years had said and asked. He went by them, seeking his room, and entered it without thought.

Nobody appeared to be in there, but the curtains of his four-poster bed were closed. Sighing, Blaise approached his bed. Leaning forward he lovingly watched the blond boy once again lying in his bed. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, Blaise’s fingers caressed the silky hair, a sad smile forming on his face.

“It’s not your fault,“ Blaise whispered quietly into Draco’s ear. “It’s mine. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Draco frowned in his sleep and Blaise was sure, that the blond understood every word. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you.”

Draco’s eyelids gently fluttered, and a silent tear left the corner of his eye and slowly ran down his cheek.

“But I know, as long as you stay together with Pansy and the boys, you can manage without me.”

The eyes opened sleepily, and Draco rolled onto his back, touching his cheek with one hand.

“Blaise?“ he whispered, pressing the balls of his hands against his eyes, suppressing his tears. “Are you here?”

The dark-haired boy didn’t answer. With a sad smile, Blaise knelt down to press a gentle kiss to the other’s lips. “I really do love you, Draco.”

“It’s not fair.”

“I will wait for you.”

“It just isn’t fair.”

Blaise slowly sat up and was about to leave the bed, when suddenly one of Draco’s hand darted out. It reached for the spot where Blaise’s wrist was, but it only captured air. Draco balled his hand into a fist and began repeatedly hitting the same spot on the mattress.

“You think of nothing but yourself, you bastard.”

“I know,” Blaise mumbled. Standing up, Blaise continued to gaze at the blond boy, unable to turn away from the sight.

Unexpectedly, there was a rattling at the door whereupon Draco rolled over, head resting on his hands, and stared at the curtain of the bed.

“Draco?“ Vincent called. “Are you in there, Draco?”

The blond didn’t respond.

“Draco, open the door!”

Blaise wanted to embrace his boyfriend, wanted to squeeze him and to never let him go again. Instead he clenched his hands.

“See you soon,“ he breathed. Blaise turned around, thinking that he heard Draco mutter the same words, and then he left the room—

—fleetingly touching Gregory’s and Vincent’s shoulder on his way whereon the two boys suddenly stopped moving and looked around in confusion.

—brushing Pansy’s forehead with his lips, and she paused mid-sentence, turning her face away to hide the sudden tears running down her cheeks.

It was time to go, and the Bloody Baron would show him the way.

~Fin~

Hope you liked it.

Proof-reader and tv-show

Wed, 08 Aug 2007 17:26:35 GMT

Heyho, if somebody is reading this, I hope I get a reply to at least one of my questions.

Actually, at the beginning I thought I should just up my first story with all it's mistakes and hope, that somebody took pity - not on me but on the English language - and would reply with something like: "Stop! I will do it! But please, stop raping and abusing my language!"

But then I thought it would be better, if I just asked someone to be my proof reader, who can spell check my slightly disordered English and corrects expressions. Though I'm trying my best. Anyone willing to try it out for me?

The second thing:

When I was little I saw a TV-series with a boy in coma, who, in his coma-dream, experienced a lot of things. Or maybe it was just a movie, but if somebody knows what I'm talking about, please answer.

Thanks in advance
Moku

Bystanders

Tue, 07 Aug 2007 22:33:16 GMT

I just saw a korean movie called "Bystanders" and I was, to be honest, shocked.

I'm not that naive to believe, that terrible things do not happen. I think I'm quite sure how the world really works, with all it's cruelty and unfairness and contradicting happiness. Shit happens - that's how it is, but that movie kind of moved me in I way never thought it would. I didn't start to bawl to my hearts content, I wasn't even sad but I really took pity on that guy, whose face was never even shown once.

As a matter of fact, this movie is about mobbing and until the end, I just thought "oh, nice storyline, I like that" but when I saw the flashback of Maria (the mother) I was... I don't know... angry maybe, no, I was furious. I wondered why his mother didn't notice anything and how she could tell him to just go away - she didn't even care how long or where to. That stupid bitch. But what hurt more than the words of Maria was her remembering how she treated her son after she found out he was being mobbed (and dead).

And when they showed the video of the schoolmates mobbing him, I asked myself how something like that happens. Why, not even once, someone said "Stop it". As far as I know, there was no mobbing in my class and if I had noticed it surely wouldn't have stayed that way! I'm not a kind-hearted, nice soul. I'm more like a sarcastic, mean egoist. I don't care much about the affairs of other people, but when somebody was being tormented by his classmates I sure as hell would say something.

If it is evenly matched, I don't care - but that was like a butterfly trying to ambush an elephant (whoa, bad comparison Oo). I hope you get what I mean.

What I hate the most are gutless, cowardly followers and blind bystanders. Am I the only one who would give someone a kick in the ass if they tried to torment a weakling?

Great, no I'm even more angry than before. Alright. Calm down.

10...9...8...

Fucking retards.

...

I know it was just a movie, but that doesn't make it less realistic, because mobbing does exist and yes, even to that degree! The hell, I could picture my brother doing something like that if he didn't knew that I was going to castrate him if I ever found out about it - because my brother really is bully-material³. But I think I did a good job in turning him into a loyal person with a sense of justice. At least I hope so. If not, he is going to be an eunuch soon.

Alright, just wanted to rant off.

Moku

Translation

Mon, 06 Aug 2007 12:41:51 GMT

Alright, it's decided, I'm going to translate some of my works into English. After I come back from work I will start with "Asche zu Asche" (literally: Ash to Ash) but I think I will call it "Dust to Dust". It has a better ring to it - in my opinion.

I just have to find someone who could spell-check that story, but I think I have to nag Cal into it. Poor Cal, I always use her as a slave. XD

Anyway "Dust to Dust" is a HP, BZ/DM-FF; to be honest, my first FF with this pairing. After that, I will see what kind of reaction I get and then I will decide whether to continue translating or not. though a friend of mine told me to absolutely translate "Egoist" - which, by the way, is one hell of a work (with 22 chapters, +Epilogue, Prologue, 1 spin-off and until now about 8 sidestories @_@) I think I will need help with that one. XD

Moku

A New Beginning

Sun, 05 Aug 2007 22:52:42 GMT

That may sound strange, but it's my first LiveJournal and I somehow avoided ever creating one and now... I'm one of the crowd, sharing all my secrets and all my problems with complete strangers. XD Ah, anyway, I don't think anybody will be that interested in me.

I will just post my fanfictions and some other stuff I want to share with other people who hopefully see it my way - whatever it is - or who doesn't but still doesn't step so low as to hassle and insult me because of a different opinion; I'm prepared to fight for my opinion, but without isults please. XD

Mokurable, commonly known as

Moku

And I just can't stop looking at this: