Tabula rasa

If anyone is familiar with season six of Buffy, they'll recognize the concept. I don't know if this has been done before, but the idea was too tempting not to have a go at it. Plus it's perfect for an H/S fic if you consider the Giles/Anya aspect. And oh the possibilities …

Unless you've temporarily been lodged outside this galaxy, you are of course well aware of the fact that none of the characters are mine (though I wouldn't complain if they were), they're all JK Rowling's, I just borrowed them to have some fun. I'm not making any money (though I wouldn't complain if I were), if you've paid to read this, you must have done something wrong. The concept isn't entirely mine either, this I owe to the genius of Joss Whedon and his crew. The plot and the sick little jokes are mine, though, and anything you don't like probably belongs to me as well.

No characters have been harmed in the making.

Hundred points to your house if you spot the Buffy quotes.

**************************************************************************** Prologue: A Masterpiece in the Making

"You are … like, insane," stammered Crabbe, when I first laid out my plan to him and Goyle. I was temporarily thrown off by his use of a polysyllabic word, but recovered quickly enough. "I prefer the term evil genius," I replied coolly and shot him the most condescending look I could muster. Years of training in front of the mirror paid off as Crabbe backed away like a chided dog.

I allowed a grin to spread across my face. "Think of it," I went on, marvelling at the prospect, "It sure is perfect. I can hardly stand the wait."

My two companions exchanged a dubious look when they thought I wasn't watching. Yes, doubt, cowards, as long as you do what I tell you, I don't care. You'll see, this will be a masterpiece, a genuine, evil, dark-wizarding stunt of brilliance, remembered by generations to come-

"He's got that dreamy look again," I heard Goyle whisper, interrupting my process of pondering my greatness. I sneered, and they jumped. Well, where sneering is concerned, I've learned from the best. Professor Snape would have been proud of me.

Having regained their undivided attention, I filled them in on the details, hissed out some orders and told them to bugger off – even a genuine evil masterpiece is not worth being late for Professor McGonagall's class. In fact, I don't think there'd be much left of me to perform the genuine evil masterpiece in question if I were to cross her. I'm so not afraid of her, of course. It is just not worth the fuss.


Friday night was perfect for this, so in the afternoon, in our common room, I outlined each step to my two morons, dwelling on what each of them had to do. Shame I couldn't see it through on my own. I hated depending on those two half-wits.

"See, it's really quite simple. We cast this spell on the Great Hall, that is fairly safe, because it will be deserted by the time we're doing this. So we can make sure no one gets involved who shouldn't. We just want the Git Who Lived with his Mudblood friend and the Weasley nerd, right?"

"But Draco," Crabbe interrupted, "what if we're caught?"

"Stop whining!" I barked, "We won't. That's why we're doing it in the Great Hall. If Filch or anyone is lurking around, we'll see them coming miles away. And remember, the spell is permanent unless broken, which means it won't simply wear off. Once we cast it, our brave Gryffindor heroes won't have a clue about who they are, or where. So they won't go around blaming us, right?"

"And you think they'll get themselves expelled?"

"Probably. They'll be staggering around all night, so they're bound to run into Filch or Mrs Norris. Or Peeves," I added, with unholy glee. I could just picture them, unknowing, scared, running rampant in the castle, getting lost in corridors that were out of bounds, getting stuck on trick stairs… It would be hilarious even if they didn't get expelled. I felt a smile creep up the corners of my mouth again, but I stifled it. There were important tasks to be dealt with.

Goyle looked as though it was all quite beyond his reach. "But – Potter and the rest aren't going to be sitting in the great Hall at two in the morning."

I sighed, but managed to keep in control. What did you have for lunch, Goyle, brains? I replied, "Exactly. That's where you come in. See, here's what you have to do…"


This was risky, I know, but whoever said that courage was only for Gryffindors? Slytherins are just as brave, but we're cunning as well, you know? And since that Potter git had been eating at my nerves for almost seven years, I saw fit for him to get his share of suffering.

I would have done this earlier, of course.

Only I just found this perfect spell when I was sneaking in my father's private library – I mean, when he was sharing some of his adorable knowledge of the darker arts with me last summer. It requires at least a pair of casters, but the more the better. And since we're not really all that experienced – I mean, since neither Crabbe nor Goyle was a mastermind like myself, I concluded it best if we did this all together. So after all my little traps were set, I positioned Goyle next to the entrance of the Great Hall, had Crabbe stand near the opposite wall and got up to the high table myself.

It was imperative that we had eye contact, because we needed to fire at precisely the same instant. The spell was supposed to charm the room it was cast in, and everyone inside that room would fall under it if they were not a caster. I shot each of my companions a stern look and counted to three, and-


-we all shouted at the same time. Bluish light sparkled from my wand, and a ribbon of sparks caught up with similar ones from Crabbe and Goyle. Once they connected, a blue glow filled the Hall, travelling up to the enchanted ceiling and spreading from there. We dashed out in a hurry – erm, we strode out in a dignified, contented way.

"Was it supposed to look like that, Draco?"

How was I supposed to know that?

"Sure, Crabbe, don't worry. Whoever enters the hall now will be knocked out for some time, and when they come back to their senses, their minds will be wiped clean."

"But everyone will go there for breakfast tomorrow," Goyle wailed, looking as though he had just realized that he had jeopardized his next meal.

"It will have worn off 'til then. I told you it'd last for only about an hour. And Potter and his minions will be here soon, if you've left the note correctly."

Goyle assured me that he had, and we took up positions behind a knight's armour next to the doors leading into to Great Hall.

Now all I needed to do was wait.

Mwahahahaha … damn, if only I had brought some chocolate frogs.