Chapter 4---And The Culprit Is. . .
Draco was picking at his food at dinner three days after Hermione had walked out on him in the library. He was feeling distinctly depressed. The Mandrake Draught wasn’t working as well as he’d thought it would and he missed Hermione. It was absurd. He’d never thought he would ever miss that Muggle-born.
“Cheer up,” Andy said. “Things could be worse.”
“Worse than being all nice and missing Hermione?” Draco snorted.
“Well, let’s see. . .” Andy cast around for something. “You could be missing Harry, or you could be lending Colin Creevey stuff---”
“Oh, that’s his name, is it? I always thought it was Cole, not that I care.” Draco shuddered. “Urgh. That’s kid needs to get a life.”
“Or he could be Harry’s biographer, doing his life story.” Andy pretended to be flipping pages of a book. “Harry eating a sausage. Harry writing. Harry yelling at me. Harry peeing. . .” Draco cracked up. Andy had a real knack for getting people to laugh, even when they were feeling at their lowest.
Draco finished his dinner and then he and Andy went down to the Slytherin common room with Crabbe and Goyle behind them. Draco had pitied their evident lack of acquaintances and was keeping them, well, to do his bidding and protect him. Without him they wouldn’t serve any purpose and, besides, being with Draco kept Millicent Bulstrode interested in Goyle, whom she was starting to call Greggykins. It was enough to make Draco throw up.
The Slytherin common room wasn’t a very cheery place, but to Draco it was rather homey and he liked it. The common room was dimly lit, with green lights casting a ghostly light on their faces.
Draco seated himself on the sofa that was always left empty for him and gestured to Crabbe and Goyle to sit down. Andy suggested a game of Exploding Snap and Draco got Goyle to get his pack.
Goyle came back with a confused expression on his face. He was holding Draco’s pack of cards and what looked like a spare piece of parchment.
“I found this on your bed,” he grunted, giving the piece of parchment to Draco.
Draco took the piece of parchment and started to read, wondering what it was all about. As he read his eyes grew wider and wider until finally his jaw dropped. The effect was that of a goldfish in mid-breath.
“What is it?” Andy asked.
“A confession. Listen to this.” Draco read out the note to Andy.
“Wow,” was all Andy could say after Draco had finished. “Who wrote it?”
“There was no name.” Draco’s mind was churning as he reread the note. “ ‘You saw me at the table the night you took it. I’m not Adrian, but you talked to me. ’ ” Who had he talked to that night? Adrian, that was clear. What had they been talking about? Oh, right, Terence had wanted to ask a girl something. Then he had drunk the Potion, which had been slipped, into his drink. After that he had snapped at Goyle and thrown up in the bathroom. It couldn’t be Goyle. He was too thick. That left Terence. It could have been Adrian, too, however. If whoever had written the note had been telling the truth about talking to him or her at the table. Draco shook his head and sighed. Mind-boggling. Maybe he should sleep on it and see if he had a better idea the next day.
“What’s the person in the letter talking about?” Crabbe asked.
“Oh, nothing important,” Draco said dismissively.
“We want to know,” Goyle said. “Who wrote it?”
Draco suddenly lost his patience. “Oh, just bugger off, will you? You’re too thick to understand and besides, I just said I don’t know who wrote it, don’t’ you listen? Honestly, you two are so slow.”
Goyle got up. He was seething. “All right, then. I’m too slow for you? Then maybe I don’t be your friend, right Crabbe?”
“Right, Goyle.”
Then turning, both of them stalked off.
Draco stared at them in shock.
“Oh, well, you needed to get rid of them, anyway,” Andy said.
“Yeah…” Draco watched them attempt to play wizard’s chess. The set seemed to be Zabini Blaise’s. “I just never thought they’d do that.”
Andy shrugged. “People can be surprising sometimes.”
The next day Draco received another note from the person who had slipped him the Potion. It went as follows:
“How do you like being good? Enjoy being sickeningly nice all the time? Don’t worry, the effects are permanent. You might be wondering about Harry Potter. I slipped him the Potion, too, although I had just chosen a random goblet from the Gryffindor table. As for you, though, I made sure you would get it.
You’re probably wondering if that note I put on your bed is the truth. It is. I’m not Adrian.”
Draco read as the writer gave an exact account of the conversation on the Slytherin table. At the end of it Draco was convinced the writer was telling the truth. The only problem was who had done it.
“It’s either Terence or Adrian,” Draco said aloud. “Adrian could have written that to throw off suspicion.”
“Why would anyone be stupid enough to write a note like that?” Andy shook his head. “Unless he was showing off, boasting about what he had done. Well, you know what they say. Pride brings about the downfall of the criminal. He’s just dying to tell everyone.”
“What do you think I should do?”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d want payback. Taking your…condition…into account, I’d say you don’t want to make his life miserable, do you?”
Draco shook his head. Andy sighed. “Damn. I got some really good stuff up my sleeve. You sure you don’t want payback?”
Draco smiled thinly. “No thanks. I think I’ll tell Dumbledore about the two notes. He’ll know what to do.”
Andy held out both his hands. “Hey, it’s your call. I still say you’re wasting a good opportunity to make somebody’s life a living hell.”
After breakfast Draco went to see Dumbledore. He told him about the two notes and the possibility, if the writer was to be taken at his word, of the writer being either Terence or Adrian. Dumbledore promised to do what he could and Draco left with his heart considerably lighter.
“So how’d it go?” Andy asked after Draco took his seat in Transfiguration class.
Draco shrugged. “He’ll look into it.”
“That’s it? What about the guy who gave you the Potion?”
“He’ll be expelled, I suppose.”
Andy shook his head. “Pity.”
“Yeah, well, right now I’m much more interested in figuring out how to transfigure this raccoon.” Draco waved his wand. “Ivana volate.” The raccoon turned into a gecko.
“Oh, very good, Mr. Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall said approvingly. “Perhaps now you might try transfiguring yourself. Five points to Slytherin.” The class had in actual fact already started transfiguring themselves but McGonagall had found the class was not ready. She had taken the class back one step. “I want all of you to have succeeded in turning your animal into something else by the end of this lesson. You’re far enough behind as it is.”
To Andy’s relief, he managed to transfigure his millipede. The rest of the class was not so lucky. Those who had not managed to transfigure their animals had received detention. It looked like Professor McGonagall was in a foul mood that morning.
When Draco exited the class he avoided Hermione’s eye. Hermione was probably avoiding his eye as well, Draco didn’t know. In any case he had not stolen a single glance at her as he walked past the line of Gryffindors.
After History of Magic Draco went up to the hospital wing to drink some Mandrake Draught. For once Harry said “hi” to him, but Draco told him to “shut the hell up”. Harry looked so hurt by this that Draco finally relented and asked him how everything was. However Harry ignored the comment and insulted Draco’s mother instead.
A pink tinge appeared in Draco’s cheeks. “Don’t you dare insult my mother.”
“You insult Ron’s just as freely,” Harry retorted. “How do you like it?”
Before he knew it Draco had whipped out his wand, pointed it at Harry and said, “Olate asendale !” Harry flew up and landed in a heap on the hospital wing floor.
Draco put his wand back in his pocket. Ron’s mother was fat. It was a fact. He just liked pointing it out to him. And his own mother was not anorexic, whatever that was.
“Your parents don’t really love you, do they?” Harry continued as if nothing had happened. “They just buy you gifts to make sure you’re happy. They don’t really want you there---”
Draco lost it. He had never felt so angry in his entire life. He wanted to kill Harry then and there, but, since he didn’t know how to do it by magic, he did the next best thing; Draco jumped on top of Harry and started to strangle him.
Harry did not think Draco would be that strong. Why, he doesn’t need Crabbe and Goyle to protect him, Harry thought, before a more pressing issue came to mind. He needed air. Draco was blocking his air supply. He choked and clawed empty air.
Draco may have heard someone asking him to stop; he did not know. All he knew was that he was in a rage and the target of that was Harry Potter. The pounding in his ears grew louder as he watched Harry’s face got redder and redder and finally blue.
Then someone pushed Draco off Harry. Draco landed and bumped his head on one of the beds. He remembered seeing stars before being pulled roughly to his feet.
“What is the meaning of this?”
Draco did not know who the speaker was. Somehow he could not recognize the voice. He supposed it must be Professor McGonagall.
“Ha---” Draco stopped. He was still a bit out of it, but he was so angry his whole body was shaking. “Harry---he insulted my parents, Professor,” Draco said as calmly as he could, knowing it hadn’t even come close to calm.
“Is that true?” Professor McGonagall asked Harry sharply. Harry nodded, still massaging his neck.
“I don’t know what came over me,” Harry said. “I don’t usually---”
“Yeah, well, it hurt, Potter,” Draco said bitterly. “It hurt a lot.” Draco spun around and stalked out of the hosp
ital wing.
Harry did not know it, but he had hit a chord. A very sensitive one, concerning Draco’s father. Sometimes his father was very loving. Most of the time it was like Draco wasn’t even there, or if he was, Draco’s main use was to entertain important people so that the Malfoy family’s gold pile would mount higher. Then his father would buy him some expensive toys, shower him with affection and go all cold again.
Draco was so immersed in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice Justin Finch-Fletchley rounding the corner. Both of them collided.
“Watch it,” Draco snarled at Justin. “I see enough Mudbloods everywhere, I don’t need them touching me as well.”
“Well, sorry,” Justin said. “Maybe you should look where you’re going next time.”
“I was looking, Finch-Fletchley,” Draco retorted. The hurt he had felt at Harry’s words turned into anger and Draco took it out on Justin. Draco continued insulting Justin and only stopped when someone touched his shoulder.
Draco turned and found himself face to face to Colin Creevey. “Get you filthy hands off me, Creevey.”
“Sorry,” Colin squeaked, quaking under Draco’s glare. “But---”
“Honestly, am I a Mudblood magnet or something? First Granger, then you and now Creevey. What did you want, Mudblood?” Draco directed the question at Colin.
“Prof---Professor Dumbledore wants---wants to see you,” Colin stammered before scampering away.
Draco watched Colin for a while, and then headed to Dumbledore’s office. He paused at the entrance. What was the password again?
“Fizzing. . .Fizzing. . .Fizzing Whizbee?” Draco said, trying to remember. The stone gargoyle did not move. “Oh, darn. Chocolate frog?”
“Try Droobles’ Best Blowing Gum,” said a voice behind Draco, and the stone gargoyle jumped to the side, revealing an escalator going slowly upwards.
“Thanks,” Draco said as he jumped onto the stairs. The person behind him did the same.
“You’re welcome.”
Draco turned. It was Harry. Draco’s eyes immediately narrowed and anger started to well up inside him. Before Draco could do anything, however, the escalator reached its destination and Draco tripped. Harry caught him and pulled him upright.
“Take your hands off me,” Draco snapped at Harry, pushing Harry away.
“Look, I’m really sorry---”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Draco cut Harry off.
Draco knocked on the door and entered. Professor Dumbledore was at his desk, his phoenix, Fawkes, perched on his right. Portraits of all the past Headmasters were around the room, all of them sleeping peacefully.
“You wanted to see me, Professor?” Draco asked tentatively.
“Yes. Take a seat, both of you.” Dumbledore gestured at two chairs in front of his desk. After both Draco and Harry had seated themselves Dumbledore told them he had questioned both Terence Higgs and Adrian Baddock. He concluded his story by saying that Terence had finally confessed to everything.
“But…why would he do that?” Draco asked. “I didn’t know he didn’t like me.”
“Terence told me that, too,” Dumbledore said. “Would you like to see?”
“Yes,” Draco said, not knowing how Dumbledore would be able to do this.
Dumbledore waved his wand and a window appeared to his left. Terence Higgs was standing in Dumbledore’s office. He looked angry.
“I hate him!” Terence half-shouted. “Him and his perfect life, he thinks he’s so great because his father’s rich! He bought his way into the Slytherin team, everyone knows, giving them all Nimbus 2001s, and he still lost to Harry Potter! I’m a better Seeker than him, I always was, but nooo, Flint took him because he gave him a new broomstick, that no good---”
“Is there anything else?”
“Yeah! Like hell there is! Stupid moron is such a fake! He tells you he’ll help and next thing you know the girl of your dreams leaps into his arms just like that! When you question him he just shrugs and tells you it couldn’t be helped, Pansy’s always liked him---as if he hadn’t led her on in the first place! And the guy sucks up to teachers all the time! I used to be Snape’s model student before he came along. . .now it’s ‘Malfoy can do this better, and he’s a year younger than all of you’. . .stupid, pathetic little. . .”
The window closed.
Draco knew who Terence was talking about; himself. Well, it really hadn’t been his fault he had ended up with Pansy, she had always liked him, it was a fact. . .and he did not suck up to teachers.
“Terence Higgs has been expelled,” Dumbledore told both of them. “Naturally. An underhanded joke such as this cannot be tolerated. How is the Mandrake Draught coming along?”
Draco did not answer immediately. That’s it? Terence was expelled? Andy was right, I should have made his life a living hell. . .he would be begging on his knees before I’d even finished. . .little hints here and there, about how he was head over heels in love with a Mudblood. . .lost schoolbooks. . .”accidentally” telling everyone about the soft toy he sleeps with, Mr. Snuffles. . .little disgusting things hidden in his bed. . .Hagrid’s Horned Bees might do the trick. . .
Draco suddenly realized what he was thinking---he was back! He couldn’t believe he had been hanging out with that Mudblood. . .
Reversal by Fain Oakenbringer
Chapter Notes: Um - ok, I know it's been a long time. Sorry! Here's the second last chapter. Hope you like!