The door to the dark room opened slowly and quietly, with nothing more than a faint creep as the figure cast a long shadow on the floor. Hermione Granger dragged her aching feet on the floor, glad that the bed was made and warm. On special occasions, she certainly did feel grateful that the S.P.E.W had not been entirely too successful. It was nice to be taken care of without having to worry all the time.
Her head spun wildly and her eyes stung from the dry air. She felt terrible, especially in her head. It was only the first day of school and she was falling sick. She sighed wearily.
She felt really lousy, a nagging reminder in her head that as Head Girl, it wasn't right for her to be absent, especially when things were always chaotic on the first day. The muggle-born witch threw herself down on the soft covers, her throbbing head calming slightly. Pale orange light shone on her face and she cursed softly, irritated. Her hands fumbled clumsily for her wand in her pocket and she pointed it weakly in the direction of the curtains.
The red velvet drapes fell neatly side-by-side, shutting out the evening sky and any other light that might possibly pierce its way through. Hermione groaned as shouts and laughter and doors slamming rang from below. They were so noisy. Suddenly she understood why the Professors were always so particular about silence, making a mental note to tighten the rules on keeping quiet. She raised her wand wearily to the ceiling, muttering a silence spell, to sound off any other sound from outside.
Finally the room was quiet and pitch black. Hermione turned on her side and rested her head on the pillows, sighing contentedly. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep.
The Welcome Feast was starting and Dumbledore had finished his usual speech, one that students had long familiarized themselves with after the third year.
It was going to be a long year.
Draco shifted his iron gray eyes back and forth the four tables, running his eyes down Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. It was getting boring; Dumbledore, that muggle-loving fool, was still droning on, about the rules and regulations at Hogwarts. It wasn't as if everyone except the naïve first years didn't know. If Dumbledore even had any eyes, he'd see all the slouching figures, glazed eyes and inappropriate body language. He could clearly see Russell getting cozy with that Summer Vingiene over to one corner of the Slytherin table. He could also see extremely well what exactly Russell was doing with his hands to get her so giggly. His hand had disappeared neatly under her shirt and from all the movement under there; he knew that they would be terribly busy that night.
He smirked, letting his eyes gaze over to the Gryffindor table. It was most unfortunate that Potty and the Weasel were still there. It would be nice to have one of them killed in their many adventures they were constantly getting themselves into. It wouldn't be hard either; judging from how Weasel was quite incapable of walking straight, constantly tripping over his disgustingly large feet. He glanced scathingly at them, one with the wild black mop of hair, and the other with the revolting red hair.
He averted his gaze smoothly onto Professor Dumbledore as he heard his cue.
"Now, it is my pleasure to introduce to you our Head Boy this year. Our Head Girl, Miss Hermione Granger, unfortunately, is not feeling well. She will be introduced to you when she is in better spirits. Mister Draco Malfoy, is our Head Boy for Hogwarts this year."
Draco curled his thin lips in what looked vaguely like a smirk and smile. Standing up arrogantly, he brushed out his long black robes, standing up tall and straight.
Malfoy cleared his throat and began to speak.
"Good evening fellow students. It is good to be back in Hogwarts, what with another year of Qudditch matches," he paused dramatically, lingering his hard stare on Potty, who stared back, distaste in his black eyes. Draco sneered slightly. Ignorant fools, he thought spitefully. He would give that Potty something to scream about. Just he wait and see. He cut off his gaze, and continued in a drawling voice.
"Tests and exams and unexpected surprises. As Head Boy, I, together with, Hermione," he proceeded to call her, deciding it was best not to call her Granger in such a public speech, pronouncing her name stiffly with distain coloring his words.
It was just simply entertaining to see how incapable Granger was. Falling sick on the first day of the term most definitely went down in his books as lazy, incapable and weak. All which he already knew she was. It only pleased him more seeing how she unknowingly had proven his point.
"Will gladly assist anyone of you with any problems or difficulties. Feel free to approach either one of us. We hope that you will enjoy this school year very much." Draco finished blandly. How Granger had ever persuaded him into going along with her little speech he would never know.
He nodded his head slightly and settled back rigidly in his seat, calmly taking a sip from his goblet, his gaze now fixed at the main doors, the sound of the cutlery clattering and excited chattering drowned out in his head.
The Welcome Feast was always such a bore.
Draco led the first year Slytherins to the dungeons below, where they looked, awestruck. The dungeons were impressive he had to admit. It was perpetually cold, but if one were to touch the walls, they would find that it was surprisingly warm. The stonewalls were bewitched with a warm current flowing through it. The current ranged from lukewarm to scalding hot. Certain times, a most unfortunate person would lean against a wall and burn their skins raw and red.
It was most enjoyable to witness the scene, but that rarely happened now. Only the thick first years would actually lean against the walls. But even the chance of a first year doing so was rare. Slytherins were full of pride and it certainly wouldn't do anyone's personal image any good to be seen squealing and screaming like a pig about to be slaughtered.
The dungeons were dark and vast, with high ceilings and expansive corridors. Grand chandeliers layered with dust hung from the ceilings above. They were luminescent, like frosted bowls, holding enchanted fireballs. Faint orange light shone dimly on the walls, casting lurking shadows and fleeting dark shapes with each flicker. Majestic scrawling and menacing cravings of snakes filled the stonewalls from top to bottom. The large curls and swirls of odd-looking letters and shapes were the inscriptions of Salazar Slytherin in written Parceltongue. The Slytherins took immense pride in it and anyone caught in acts of vandalism would have a nasty little time. The Seventh years made sure of it.
A few had a calm and haughty demeanor, a look of scorn on their faces as they regarded the rest of the Slytherins. His lips stretched out in a thin smile, glad to see that a few of the more esteemed Purebloods like himself had joined Slytherin.
He reached the portrait in front of the entrance and held up one hand. The low chatter behind me came to a stop and there was a slight shuttling of feet to get in order.
Draco smirked. They would do well to fear him and know their place. He liked having this authority. The only bad part about it was having to share it with that Mudblood Granger.
"This is the door to the Slytherin common room. The password is Serpentsortia." He paused as the portrait swung outwards silently.
"When Professor Snape changes the password, you will be informed duly. Otherwise, it would not do well for anyone of you, to leak out our password." Malfoy drawled, an edge in his voice, eyeing the new students carefully.
They nodded seriously, a glimmer of fear appearing in their eyes as he continued.
"I do not want any disgusting Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or even worse, Gryffindor, to find their way in there. We can assure you that things will not be pleasant for that certain culprit." Draco stopped dramatically; making sure his point had been taken.
"Now," he entered the dark green common room with the plush, ornate furniture, the trail of students following him. "The boys dorm is down the stairs to your right, the first door you see. For the girls, it is up the stairs on the left, the second door to the right. Your things are already there."
He nodded slightly and turned abruptly on his heel, striding briskly to the other end of the common room as he spotted the rest of the students in the Seventh year.
His eyes gleamed as he reached the group of tall boys lounging and slouching about on the couch.
"Draco. You know, it might not be such a bad thing for you and Granger to share a common room. She's a stunner now. Not too bad you know, for a good shag." Blaise slurred, snickering softly.
Draco eyed him steely as he sat himself down on the chair, an amused twist on his lips.
"Honestly," Crabbe cut in, "She's grown up now. Tall, nice slender figure, hazel eyes. Long lashes…"
"Not to mention now that her hair's cut now. Not so bushy anymore. Long, wavy and curly." Blaise added, grinning manically.
He leaned back casually, running his long fingers along his wand. His eyes narrowed at what Blaise said. He hadn't really got a good look at Granger when he came into the train carriage. The only different thing he noticed was her hair. It wasn't wild and uncontrollable like before. Somehow she had managed to smoothen it and it fell in soft wavy curls.
He snorted, unnerved. It gave him the shivers to picture Granger on his bed, ready to shag him. Unless of course, he got a better look at her tomorrow and his opinion might change, but he hardly doubted it.
"Your mother gave me this liquid, its for you to drink she says. Tonight." Goyle held up a skinny blue bottle, waving it in Draco's direction, shooting pointed looks of anticipation at Blaise and Crabbe.
Malfoy eyed the three of them suspiciously, raising an eyebrow quizzically. He took up the bottle, inspecting it carefully before staring at Goyle. Goyle had been on close terms with his father; he wouldn't dare pull off any funny business. Draco pulled out the tiny stopper, and tipped the contents inside his mouth unceremoniously.
It was cool and thick and tasted like berries, but smelled strongly of bark. Malfoy wrinkled his nose in disgust.
"What is this?" he spat repulsively.
There was no answer, and he was about to threaten him, his eyes narrowing dangerously when a strange feeling took over. He felt light-headed and there were no thoughts in his head. It was as though he was being frozen, but still alive. He could hear the noises from outside, seeing things, registering them, but he had no reaction, no sense of being. He was just a body, Draco's body, but not Draco Malfoy.
Then he heard a voice say, amidst loud rough laughter, "Go back to the Head dorm. Go into Granger's room and shag her."
There was uproar of coarse laughter as they watched a stunned-looking Draco Malfoy proceed from the room.