“I don’t know,” Hermione confessed.
“What? You don’t know? Hermione, I’m disappointed in you,” chastised Ron. “Harry he is a goner if he doesn’t have you to rely on for answers.”
“Look, while you lot search for answers, I have a Potions class to be at,” Draco stated and beckoned Goyle to follow him. But they had not gone two steps before Draco realized the trio was following him.
“What is it now?” he demanded.
“We’re in your Potions class, half-wit,” Ron retorted.
Draco stopped, he had forgotten that. Double Potions with the Gryffindors, as always. Then a horrifying thought occurred to him. What if the Gryffindors tried to talk to him? The Slytherins would mock him for the rest of his life if it looked like he was in on one of Potter’s schemes. He couldn’t let that happen.
“Well don’t just stand there, start moving!” Hermione pushed Draco from behind, he stumbled a bit and then spun around.
“Listen, we are going to act like nothing is different to the rest of the school,” he ordered.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked, confused.
“I mean, we all still hate each other, we are just going to pretend that we don’t talk outside of class,” Draco clarified.
“Why on earth-?” Hermione began confused.
“Because it would damage my reputation, that’s why!” Draco half yelled.
“You have a reputation?” Ron snorted at the idea.
“Yes, and it’s a good one, unlike your lots,” Draco fumed.
“Alright Drakie, don’t have a temper tantrum,” Hermione rolled her eyes. Goyle snorted, the four turned to look at him.
“What are you laughing at?” Harry demanded, puzzled as always.
“Only Draco’s mom calls him Drakie,” Goyle chortled. Draco smacked him round the head and stormed off, angry that Goyle had given away such a deep secret. He remembered how much he had impressed into Goyle the necessity to keep such a pet name quiet. Not even Crabbe knew. Goyle had only found out when he’d read Draco’s letters by accident, believing they were his. Draco had been shocked about the fact that Goyle could even read, but now he realized, he should have made his clandestine nickname more clear.
He got to the dungeons early and sat down by his cauldron, stewing over Goyle’s betrayal.
“Uh, Draco, um, look. I’m sorry,” Goyle sputtered when he got to Potions class. Professor Snape was busy giving instructions for a Tanning Potion. It was one of the lighter Potion classes, Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Draco ignored Goyle eloquent apology and threw his ingredients into his potion.
He noticed that the Gryffindors were in the back of the dungeon, as always, and were holding a hushed discussion as they distractedly threw in their ingredients.
“Who do you think should tell him?” Hermione hissed as she tossed some Blue Toad Claws over her shoulder.
“The one he dislikes the least, probably,” Harry stated, adding a random green powder to his cauldron.
“Which one would that be?” Ron grumbled, looking in disgust at some centaur tail hair before dropping it into his cauldron. “He can’t stand Muggle-borns because they’re not “pure”. He hates me because of my family and “low ideals”. And Harry…well Harry’s just Harry and Malfoy hates him because of that.”
“It definitely shouldn’t be me,” Hermione shook her head violently to emphasize her point. “He would never reasonably listen to what I say.”
“Yeah, and like Ron said, he hates everything I do so I would be no good,” Harry muttured. Hermione nodded again. Both Harry and Hermione turned their heads to Ron who was busy poking at his cauldron passively with his wand and watching it change colors. He slowly turned his head and realized his two best pals were expecting him to have an unpleasant chat with the enemy.
“Why me?” he grieved.
“Well look at it from our point of view, you’re a Pureblood, unlike us,” Harry offered.
“Yes, and Draco doesn’t mind you that much. I saw him staring at your hand a while back,” Hermione input.
”He was probably planning what sort of nasty thing he was going to turn it into,” Ron countered. “And he hates me and my whole family. Any words from my mouth are dirt to him!”
But his pleas had no effect on his friends. Angrily, he jabbed his potion rather fiercely.
KA-BOOM!
Ron’s potion exploded all over the entire classroom, drenching them in it. And it became painfully obvious how poorly concocted Ron’s potion had been. Instead of turning a nice tan, classmates who had been hit by the potion were turning different colors.
“Help!” a red Ron pleaded with a blue Hermione and a green Harry.
“You know, I think this color goes well with my eyes,” Harry informed them, staring fixedly at his violently green hand.
“Oh Harry stop that!” Hermione ordered, shoving him lightly, but she too appeared more amused than worried with the class’s present condition.
“Perhaps once you are done admiring your new skin tones you could explain what happened?” demanded a cruel voice behind them. In a whirl of colors they turned around to face a disgruntled Snape. The “Tanning” potion had hit him as well. But in this rare case, it had worked. Snape’s once pasty skin now bore an uncharacteristic golden tan.
“Uh, well, um,” a green Harry sputtered, trying to find an alibi. Snape’s brown lip curled unpleasantly.
“Clearly that potion removed some of your brain as well, what was left of it anyway. Follow me,” he growled.
Harry didn’t protest, instead he collected his bag, but when his green face was next to Ron’s red ear, he hissed, “Now’s your chance to talk to Malfoy.”
“Class dismissed!” Snape called as he carried Harry off, “You can go to the hospital wing to fix your skin if need be. Though I must say some of you look better this way.”
Grumbling and glaring at the red Ron, the class began to put away their cauldrons and pack their book bags. Then the myriad of colorful students began filing out of the dungeon, looking like a very entertaining rainbow.
“Nice going Weasley!” shouted a sneering purple Draco.
“Well, at least I’m not purple!” was all Ron could think of for a comeback.
“Tut tut,” Madame Pomfrey clucked her tongue at the array of colorful sixth years before her. She held out a tray full of little paper Dixie cups brimming with a thick syrupy liquid. “Drink these, they’ll restore your normal pigments. Though I’m afraid it only works 24 hours after you’ve drunk it.”
“Great, now I get to be purple for a whole day,” Draco lamented, knocking back his shot of pigment potion.
”Congrats, Malfoy, you’ve successfully turned into the pansy I always knew you were,” Ron snarled as he too sipped his potion.
SMACK!
“Don’t. Call. Me. A. Pansy,” Draco hissed at Ron through his teeth after he slapped him.
“Why not?” Ron growled back.
“Because it’s hypocritical, Weasel, that’s why,” Draco retorted, walking off. “Everyone knows you’re the biggest butterfly out there.”
Now all the students had knocked back their shots and were looking at the brawl in interest. At Draco’s comment, the Slytherins all jeered at Ron. Crabbe even made a mock-butterfly with his hands and fluttered it in Ron’s direction.
With all these eyes on him, Ron felt his already red ears turn even redder. “Tell me Draco,” he called out, “when was the last time you dreamed about kissing a girl?”
The Gryffindors all cheered appreciatively as Draco’s lavender skin flushed. “I suppose your parents are happy,” he shot back, “now they get to have a surrogate daughter.”
“Well as long as your door swings both ways, we aren’t helping you!” Ron roared.
“Why should I need your help? It’s obvious you aren’t the straightest road on the map! And I mean that in more ways than one!”
Angrily, Ron pulled out his wand at the same time Draco pulled out his. They would have begun dueling if it had not been for Madame Pomfrey. She had just finished consoling a moping mauve Pansy and was attracted by the shouts and jeers from the crowd of sixth years.
“Stop! Stop this instant!” she yelled, breaking into the center of the crowd. Both Draco and Ron stopped looking at each other and pocketed their wands. “Shoo! SHOO! Don’t make excuses for me to treat you!”
The crowd dispersed, many of the students talking amongst themselves. Hermione finally fought her way through to Ron.
“What on earth were you thinking, Ron?” she demanded.
In response, Ron angrily kicked a nearby knight. This was another bad idea because the angered knight proceeded to chase him all the way down the corridor.
“Tell me Draco, when was the last time you dreamed about kissing a girl?”
Draco shook his head, trying to erase that phrase from his memory. But he couldn’t it nagged at him harshly. He had a lot of things to deal with right now. It didn’t help that he didn’t have the Gryffindor’s help with his ghost problem. But at least now he wouldn’t have to see Ron.
He hoped.
“So Ron and Malfoy had a big fight?” a green Harry asked curiously as the trio made their way down to dinner.
“Yes,” Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Look, so I got a bit mad, alright?” Ron snapped, “It’s not as though Malfoy was our closest chum.”
“Calm down Ron,” Hermione begged him, “It’s just that, throughout the entire row, you two seemed to have something going on. Like there was something you both knew, yet no one else did.”
“We do NOT have anything going on!” Ron barked.
“Calm down, let’s just go to dinner alright?” Harry pleaded.
Resigned Ron marched along with his friends to the Great Hall. However, before they could enter, Hermione spoke softly, “Stop.”
“What is it?” asked Harry, he strained his ears, but all he could hear was an inconsistent buzzing sound.
CLAP! Hermione clapped her hands around something in midair.
“Uh, Hermione? I’m sorry to tell you this, but there’s nothing there,” Ron informed her. “Maybe there was something in that potion…”
“Look,” Hermione ordered. Harry and Ron gathered round her. She parted her blue hands a little bit to reveal a beetle.
“Starting a bug collection? Good, then I’ll get you Malfoy, biggest butter”“
”Will you stop it with Malfoy?” Harry demanded his friend impatiently, “This has nothing to do with him, it’s Rita.”
“What does she want?” asked Ron.
“Rita, reveal yourself,” Hermione ordered sternly. She held out her hand. The little beetle hopped off and began to de-transfigure in mid-air. When she hit the ground, it was decidedly Rita Skeeter. She was bit disheveled, but after adjusting her glasses and scowling at a blue Hermione, she indicated for them to follow her to a narrow side corridor.
“What are you doing here?” Hermione hissed at the reporter.
“Here to investigate, obviously,” Rita sniffed, “Believe me, it wasn’t my first choice. But since I couldn’t tell my boss the real reason I don’t like reporting here, I got the job.”
“What are you investigating?” Harry queried.
“Haven’t you been reading the Prophet? There’s madness in Hogsmeade and no one knows how it happened.”
“Oh, that,” Harry realized.
“I’m going to tell Dumbledore you’re here,” Hermione insisted.
“Wait, no, don’t Hermione,” Ron stopped her.
“Why ever not?” she questioned, mystified.
“Let’s just send her to Malfoy, and watch the worm squirm,” Ron rubbed his hands together mischievously. He was going to get back at that little slug.
What is Hogwarts hiding?
Many have speculated on Hogwarts School of Magic being the cause for the sudden mood change in Hogsmeade. So the Daily Prophet decided to send their attractive blond reporter, yours truly, to seduce Hogwarts into revealing it’s secrets. Imagine my surprise when I was greeted with a rainbow of students, each one sporting a different skin tone, varying from fushia to indigo. These multihued visages will certainly be counted as more evidence supporting the rumors that Hogwarts does not feel queasy about experimenting on it’s students.
In fact, I was astounded to learn that such magical accidents happen on a regular basis. One student even went so far as to say, “Sometimes are teacher’s don’t even watch what ingredients we throw into our cauldrons. Then we get blamed for the mistakes.”
The chance a rogue curse affecting Hogsmeade is very likely. But who would be responsible for such a horrendous crime? “There are a few Slytherin idiots who experiment daily trying to make themselves more attractive to their own gender,” explained the self-proclaimed “straightest road in Hogwarts”.
No doubt parents will now worry about the conditions under which their children are learning.
“Ron, I think you went a bit overboard,” Harry declared, folding up the Daily Prophet.
“Good,” Ron muttered darkly through a thick bite of cranberry scone.
“You know,” Hermione interrupted, “I’m getting a bit concerned for you Ron. Yours and Malfoy’s relationship is becoming a bit unhealthy.”
“Wunguhfa hunfa guhnph,” Ron articulated furiously.
“Don’t choke yourself mate,” Harry implored his friend. Ron glared, took a swig of water and swallowed.
“There is NO relationship,” he informed his two friends angrily. With that said, he stormed out of the Great Hall.
“Blimey, I wonder what’s eating him,” Harry speculated. He glanced over at Hermione, who was watching Ron’s retreating back thoughtfully. “You know, don’t you?”
“What?” Hermione interrogated mildly.
“You DO know!” Harry exclaimed.
“Actually, I’m not sure if I do. But if my hunch is right…”
“Trying to make themselves more attractive to their own gender,” Draco sneered to himself, as he set his copy of the Daily Prophet on fire. He spat into the crumbling ashes and rose from his table. “I’ll settle this with Weasley once and for all.”