Deceit and Disappointment
Chapter 5: Deceit and Disappointment
Draco woke up slowly, stretching with a yawn. Light from the early morning had just begun to creep through the window, and it peeked through the open slit between his bed curtains. He turned over, casting a Tempus charm to find that it was only half past six. Sighing and deciding to just get the day started, Draco swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed open the curtains. He slid his feet into a pair of soft slippers and grabbed his dressing robe to stave off the morning chill.
He padded down the hall and into the boys showers and let the steam and soap wash away the last of his sleepiness. He quickly dressed in his school uniform and slicked back his hair into what was now his signature look. Draco made his way to the common room to see a small crowd of the first year Slytherins huddling around a new notice on the bulletin board in the common room.
NOTICE FIRST YEARS:
Beginning this Thursday, all First Year Slytherins will attend Flying Lessons on the school grounds with Madam Hooch. Slytherins and Gryffindors will participate in this class together.
Draco was elated and so excited he nearly missed the Gryffindor part, but it was there. However wonderful Prince Potter was, Draco knew he could beat him at flying. He’d been flying since nearly before he could walk—it was his favorite pastime. How sweet this victory would taste!
Then another thought crossed his mind…
When Madam Hooch sees how well I fly, she’ll practically be begging me to try out for Quidditch!
Draco’s spirits were raised exponentially and he walked with a spring to his step all week. He could see a light in the dark tunnel that his father had created for him in his mind. If anything could cheer him up, it was flying…and beating Potter at something, of course.
…
Thursday morning, Draco’s large gray eagle owl dropped yet another small package, full of sweets he knew, from his mother. She loved to dote on him even more, now that he was gone and away from his father’s stern gaze.
Draco gladly shared the sweets among his friends, he didn’t care for most of it anyways. His attention was, yet again, stuck on that filthy know-it-all Muggle-born. She was obviously preparing for something, but she had her book flat on the table in front of her.
He gave in and broke his concentration for a brief moment, but only to make a snide comment about the boy next to her.
“Poor Pauper Potter doesn’t have anyone that cares for him enough to send him any mail…how pathetic!” Draco spat.
Pansy and Theo cackled while Daphne covered her smile daintily and Blaise just smirked at the Gryffindor table—all knowing the little lions heard them.
Weaslebee looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel with how purple his face was turning. It was shocking that his skin could get even more vibrant than his hair. Draco just sneered in his direction and quickly chanced a glance at her.
She looked more annoyed at being interrupted in her reading, but there was a spark in her eye that glinted at Draco. His curiosity peaked again, but all of their concentration was lost when a barn owl flew through the open windows and dropped a small brown paper-wrapped package in front of Longbottom.
The boy tore the paper off & held the object up.
“It’s a Remembrall!” he whispered excitedly. “Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there’s something you’ve forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red – oh …” His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet,”... you’ve forgotten something …”
Draco had decided to get up and walk back to his room for his books, perhaps catching a glance of whatever was so interesting it had engrossed Granger again.
Longbutt was trying to remember what he’d forgotten when Draco started to pass the Gryffindor table and decided to have a little fun instead. He just couldn’t help himself, especially since the boy made it so easy. He snatched the Remembrall out of Longbottom’s hand.
Potter and Weasley leapt out of their seats, clearly looking for a fight. Professor McGonagall, however, suddenly appeared as if from thin air, looking rather irritated.
“What’s going on?” She demanded, eyeing each of the boys suspiciously.
“Malfoy’s got my Remembrall, Professor.”
Draco scowled at the group of Gryffindors and placed the object back down on the table irreverently.
“Just looking,” he said, and rolled his eyes as he skulked away. Crabbe and Goyle followed him back to the dorms, as they had finished eating but were not quite sure what to do with themselves.
Back in the common room, Draco paced in front of the fireplace. What was she reading!?! And why is that what he’s thinking about right now?! Draco just seemed to feel more and more confused each day. Something about her intrigued him—she was a mystery. It was also becoming increasingly clear that he was going to have to fight for his rightful place as top of the class.
As Draco continued his inner rant, Crabbe and Goyle just continued to talk smack about the Gryffindors. ‘Potter-this’, ‘Weasley-that’…
Draco suddenly froze in place and glared at the boys for interrupting his train of thought with their lame comebacks and complaints which were only regurgitated from other Slytherins’ previous mutterings. They must have thought he was even angrier about Potter and Weasley because they quieted mid-sentence and left to head off to class.
He was grateful for the momentary quiet to sort his thoughts when Blaise and Theo sauntered in.
“Quidditch Through The Ages,” Blaise whispered barely louder than a breath as he passed Draco. In fact, if he hadn’t made eye contact as he said it, Draco wouldn’t have been sure he’d actually heard it. He blinked twice blankly at Blaise, but Theo blundered over his confusion.
“She’s always got her nose in a book! Honestly, does she really think she’s going to learn to fly by reading about Quidditch?!” Theo practically roared with laughter.
Blaise winked at Draco from behind Theo and understanding flashed across Draco’s face. Theo continued without a clue as to what his two friends were communicating.
“…I thought you were going over there to wind her up about not knowing how to fly, but instead you just kicked the hornet's nest, mate!” Theo was chuckling again while clapping a hand to his forehead in mock disbelief. Even Blaise joined in this time with a little laugh.
Blaise knows I’ve been watching her. He probably knows I can’t stop thinking about stupid Granger.
He wanted to be angry, really he did, but instead he felt a slight lift of the weight he didn’t know had been sitting on his shoulders.
…
When it was nearing time for their first Flying lesson, Draco and the other young snakes made their way hastily to the grounds. Nearly all of them had been decent fliers prior to arriving at Hogwarts, and they were eager to get back on a broom.
As they approached, they could see that Madam Hooch had twenty brooms divided up into two rows facing each other. The Slytherins took the row facing the school, unconsciously so they could watch as the Gryffindors approached—never leave your back turned toward an enemy.
Madam Hooch appeared nearly the same time as the rest of the class. She had a hawk-like appearance with golden yellow eyes. Her short, silver hair spiked around her head like pins and needles standing on end.
“Well, what are you all waiting for?” she barked impatiently. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.”
Draco confidently sauntered up to his broom, assessing the flying apparatus—it wasn’t a new model, but it would do.
“Stick out your right hand over your broom,” she commanded, “and say, “Up!”’
“UP!” everyone shouted nearly in unison.
Draco’s broom jumped into his hand like a magnetic pull, but it was one of the few that did. Potter’s broom also obeyed in a well-controlled manner, however Granger’s had simply rolled around a bit at her feet. Longbottom’s broom didn’t even move.
Madam Hooch explained and demonstrated mounting the broom and adjusted their grips as necessary. Then, the old bird had the audacity to tell him he’d been doing it wrong for years! Draco was seething with sudden hatred for the woman. His father had paid a lot of money for his private flying and Quidditch lessons by Aidan Kiely’s own coach! Look at him now, quickly climbing to the top of the league as the best Seeker around!
Draco caught Potter and Weasel’s sniggers as they could see his annoyance plainly. He gave them both a look that would kill if it could. He thought about throwing up two particular fingers but thought better of it since she was watching the exchange.
“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle – three – two –“
Before the hawk-eyed woman even raised the whistle to her lips, Longbottom was rising through the air quickly, without any semblance of control over his broom. Panic was clear on his features. Draco was sincerely confused as to why the boy was even allowed to continue using magic in class, seeing how he continuously caused incident after incident, only rivaled by Finnegan and his pyrotechnics.
“Come back, boy!” she shouted, but it was no use. The entire class looked up in time to see Longbottom’s face go white as he gasped and started to slip sideways and –
WHAM – he landed face-down with a nasty crack.
The broom took on a life of its own and continued to rise until it decided to make its way to the Forbidden Forest.
Madam Hooch was as pale as the student on the ground. She rushed to him in concern. Then moved to take him to the Hospital Wing.
“Broken wrist,” she tutted. “Come on, boy – it’s all right, up you get.”
She swiveled and eyed the rest of the students.
“None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch’. Come on, dear.”
Longbutt hobbled off, crying, with the older witch in tow. Draco was rather glad to be free of her. He let out a loud laugh and the rest of the snakes joined in.
“Did you see his face, the great lump?”
“Shut up, Malfoy,” snapped one of those Patil twins, Draco wasn’t sure which one, not did he care.
“Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?” Pansy said pointedly. “Never thought you’d like fat little cry babies, Parvati.”
“Look!” Draco drawled, darting forward to snatch a small object from the lawn. “It’s that stupid thing Longbottom’s gran sent him.”
Draco admired it as he held it up into the sunlight, and the Remembrall sparkled in his grasp.
“Give that here, Malfoy,” said Potter.
Everyone stopped talking to watch. Ah touchy, touchy. Draco smiled with mirth dripping from his lips.
“I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect – how about – up a tree?”
“Give it here!” Saint Potter roared again, but Draco simply ignored him. He flung a practiced leg over his broom and kicked off with ease. He hadn’t been lying, he could fly well, and now Potter would finally see just how inferior he was to him in the wizarding world.
“Come and get it, Potter!”
Then, Potter did the unexpected—at least Draco didn’t expect it. He got on his own broom and kicked off, rising through the air.
Granger was shouting at him to get down, something about “getting everyone into trouble” but the two rivals could hardly hear her.
Draco was taken aback. Potter could actually fly…and well. Of course Perfect Harry Potter is naturally great at flying. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s the Saviour of the Wizarding World.
The raven-haired boy turned his broomstick sharply to face him in mid-air.
“Give it here, or I’ll knock you off that broom!” Potter shouted. Draco was doing everything he could to not bust into laughter, lest he lose his balance.
“Oh, yeah?” Draco’s sneer returned.
Potter tightened his grip and leaned forward, his broom shooting toward Draco. Rather bored with the exchange already, but surprised at Potter’s speed, Draco leaned out of the way at the last second.
“No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy,” Potter called, clearly misreading the situation as always.
“Catch it if you can, then!” Draco launched the Remembrall high into the air and casually took the broom back down to the ground.
Ever the hero, Potter chased after the glittering ball and stretched out his hand – a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.
Dammit. How the bloody hell did he manage that?!
“HARRY POTTER!” Professor McGonagall was marching in their direction. Potter at least had the sense to look terrified.
“Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –“
Professor McGonagall was clearly in shock, and she glared at him furiously, “– how dare you – might have broken your neck –“
“It wasn’t his fault, Professor –“ Pansy glared at the Patil girl and she stopped speaking just as Professor McGonagall admonished her for speaking anyway.
“Be quiet, Miss Patil –“
“But Malfoy –“ the ginger tried to interject.
“That’s enough, Mr Weasley. Potter, follow me, now.”
Draco, Crabbe and Goyle wore faces of victory as Potter was led away, back to the castle. The rest of the afternoon, the young Slytherins truly had a serpentine look about them as they slithered through the halls with their superior smirks plastered on their faces.
…
By the time dinner came around, Draco was practically gliding through the halls with glee. Potter would soon be gone and out of his hair, and then he’d only have to worry about besting her academically.
To his dismay, Potter was still sitting at the Gryffindorks table, so when the red-headed freak twins got up and left, Draco just had to see why, and naturally Crabbe and Goyle followed along.
“Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?”
“You’re a lot braver now you’re back on the ground and you’ve got your little friends with you,” Potter jibbed.
“Yes, well you appear to be a bit more brazen with your friends around as well.” Draco merely rolled his eyes.
It would be just a battle of wits and insults this time—there were too many professors sitting at the Head Table to start any kind of real fight. However, Draco spotted an opening he just couldn’t turn down. A Gryffindor never ignores a dare.
“I’d take you on any time on my own,” Draco threw out flippantly. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?” He threw in a mocking tone for effect.
“Of course he has,” Weasley quipped, wheeling round. “I’m his second, who’s yours?”
Draco looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up. He quickly looked past them and made eye contact with Blaise Zabini with a questioning look. He nodded in reply.
“Blaise,” Draco said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room, that’s always unlocked.”
As Draco stalked out of the hall, he heard Potter ask Weasley what a duel was. He chuckled inwardly and headed toward the common room with a smirk that could rival even his father’s. Potter was already so predictable, and Weasley even more so.
…
Back in the common room, Draco sat in a large wingback black leather chair near the fire, flipping idly through a more advanced level potions book Snape had given him. Pansy and Daphne were sprawled out on the grand Persian rug, taking turns practicing charms on each other’s hair.
“Draco, you’re not really going to duel Potter are you?” Pansy pouted, sticking her lower lip out unnecessarily far. “Not that it’ll be much of a duel, but I wouldn’t want you to get caught, you know.”
“Don’t worry about it Pans, Blaise is taking care of everything.” Draco waved her away.
As if on cue, Blaise & Theo strolled into the room and unceremoniously plopped down onto a black suede Victorian couch. Theo threw an arm over the back of the couch and kicked his feet up.
“It’s done,” Blaise grinned in his direction, then turned his attention to the girls on the floor in front of him. “Pansy, you’re holding your wand at the wrong angle—you’ll never get a proper braid like that,” he scolded.
Shock registered on the girls’ faces, but Daphne spoke first, “You know hair charms, Blaise?”
“I have a lot of sisters,” he shrugged. He leaned forward and placed his dark hand over Pansy’s pale one and tilted it to the correct angle. “There, now try.”
Pansy froze, just staring at his hand on hers, she had been surprised by the close contact but quickly realized they were waiting for her to do the spell, “Crinus Muto”.
Daphne’s sleek ponytail flattened down and gently weaved itself into a pretty French braid. Pansy flashed Blaise a bright smile, silently thanking him.
“My turn!” Daphne cheered brightly, jumping up to trade places with Pansy.
Blaise helped the beaming blonde perform her charm, and the girls rushed off to their room to show the others, no doubt. Draco smiled at his friend’s success, but once the girls were gone the boys got down to business.
“So you told Filch?” Draco whispered conspiratorially.
“Sort of…” Blaise began noncommittally, but Theo quickly jumped in, wanting to be a part of the plot.
“We ‘whispered’ rather loudly in front of him about a secret midnight duel tonight in the Trophy Room, and he was all too eager to take the bait!”
“Perfect. Those bloody Gryffindors will be gone on the first train tomorrow!” Draco felt relief at the prospect of no longer having to fight with Potter day-in and day-out for the next seven years. He could finally shine as the star student he was and get the proper attention he deserved.
The boys carried on their conversations into their dormitory, and one by one drifted off to sleep. For the first night since he arrived, Draco slept soundly.