Spell Master

Author: Babychan

email: baby_chan1778@yahoo.com or babychan1778@yahoo.com

Title: Spell Master

Rating: R but it will become NC17 later.

Series: Yes. Chapter 16/?

Parings: H/D S/N/L N/B

Summary: The wizarding world is going to find out that Harry Potter is not the only one with awesome powers. Its a Pro-Slytherin and Pro-Draco fic. This is slash fiction. This is also the re-edited version.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters do NOT belong to me :( (pout) I’m just writing for the fun of it. I get no money for it whatsoever. .

A.N.: I would to thank everyone for their reviews for my fic. It means so very much. Thank you.

Special thanks and lots of love to Mee-chan for beta reading this chapter. THANKS SO VERY MUCH!!

Spell Master

Harry fidgeted as he waited outside the Great Hall doors. He had been there ever since Zabini gave him his schedule. So he had been there for about ten minutes now.

The longest ten minutes of his life.

When a small, and magically deformed, group of fifth year Hufflepuffs passed him to go into the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry received the same type of shocked, then angry expression that he had been receiving ever since he stepped out of his new House, wearing his new House colors, and crest.

And in the Gryffindor heir’s opinion, It was getting annoying.

People hadn’t blatantly stared at him, in such a way, since his reintroduction into the wizarding world. However, this time, the look was not of reverence. It was of terror and *hate.*

And why did they hate him? Simply because he changed Houses.

Harry quickly noticed that those who didn’t see him, still looked irritable... and deformed.

Can’t forget that they were *deformed!* Apparently, the unfortunate ramifications of yesterday’s row was worse than the ex-Gryffindor remembered. It was amazing to witness the new... creatures... his schoolmates had become. He was completely ill prepared to see such sights, because most everyone in Slytherin looked, well, normal.

But then again, Draco was healing the members of his house –and only his House– with illegal spells.

“No wonder Dumbledore gave us such a harsh punishment.” Harry whispered to himself when a group of...who the hell knew, walked past him. Inwardly, he was glad that he was healed by Dumbledore last night.

Nevertheless, it was a simple fact: Yesterday’s row started the school year off on a bad note.

In his peripheral, he saw the person he was waiting for, and he thanked the gods that she was alone.

“Hermione!” The raven-haired boy called out frantically and started running toward her, just as she started running toward him.

“Oh my goodness, Harry!” She cried out in shock. “So the rumors were true! You really *did* switch Houses!”

“Hermione” He interrupted.

But in turn, was interrupted by her. “Is that why you fought against our House yesterday?” There was betrayal in her voice. “Because you knew that you were re-sorting into Slytherin?”

“What?!” He asked affronted. “Do you really think that I willingly re-sorted Houses?”

She looked close to crying. “I...I don’t know...I just know that... We haven’t been the best to you, Harry!” She grabbed his forearms and looked desperately into his eyes. “But... did you really think that asking to be resorted into *Slytherin* would be better? Are we that horrible?”

“Uh *yeah*!!” That’s what the raven-haired boy *almost* said, but didn’t.

“Is that why you fought against us yesterday?” She asked again. She was crying now.

He shook her grip from his arms and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Hermione, I didn’t fight against Gryffindor! I was *protecting* myself from them!” Earnestly, his emerald eyes looked into her hazel ones as he tried to make her understand. “And the only reason for that row, in the *first place,* was because Slytherin was protecting *me* from Gryffindor as well!”

At that truth, she jerked back as if she were slapped. “Oh Merlin!” Ashamed, Hermione cupped her face, in her hands. “Oh Merlin. What have we become when the House of Slytherin is more noble than the House of Gryffindor?!”

Harry was taken back by his own words as well. The *whole* Slytherin House was on a two months *restriction* because they were protecting *him.*

Oh dear lord...

He was as good as *dead.*

In a passing thought, the raven-haired boy wondered if it was too late to convince the sorting hat into putting him into Hufflepuff. Sure they were angry with him, but not as angry as Slytherin was going to be once they realized that *he* was the reason for their punishment.

“Harry..” Hermione choked out. The shame she felt for her House’s behavior was written all over her face. “I’m so sorry.... If there is anything I can do.”

Harry perked up at that. That was the very reason he was waiting for her. He needed her help. “Yeah, ‘Mione, there is something you can do for me!”

Eager to redeem herself, and her House, she jumped at the chance to do a favor for him. “What do you need, Harry?”

He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a wrinkled bundle of paper. “My schedule. It’s all messed up!”

She took it out of his hand, looked at it, and frowned. “How did you manage to get into all of these advanced classes?” It was no secret in Hogwarts that the Boy-Who-Lived had horrible grades last year. Grades that would have disqualified him from participating in any type of elite curriculum.

“I have no idea!” The boy addressed, stressed. “But I think Snape screwed up somewhere when he had to fix everyone’s schedule. I think he must have confused my schedule with someone else’s!”

“Who? Draco Malfoy?” Her tone quickly changed from sorrow, to being put out. In her opinion, it wasn’t fair that Harry got into the advanced classes without working for it; where she worked her arse off to maintain her spot.

“I don’t know!” Harry whined as he moved beside her, to peer over her shoulder, and look at paper. “Maybe.”

“You know...” She took a closer look at his schedule and nodded. “Maybe you’re right.” She pointed at the third class on his list. “Seventh Year Advance Runes and Tarot. Did you even take the base class? Are you even fluent in Scandinavian?”

“Yes, I took it in my fifth year.” Harry admitted. “And no, I’m not fluent in Scandinavian.”

“So you didn’t take Sixth Year Advance Runes and Tarot last year?” She was ashamed that she didn’t know. She should have known. Harry was supposed to be one of her best friends.

He shook his head, then admitted completely stressed. “I can barely recognize its alphabet! I dropped the class once I found out that it was a harder than Divination.” A lot harder. He mentally added.

Even though Harry thought Professor Trelawney was a nutcase, her classes– with the exception of Runes and Tarot– were easy as pie. And *that* was the only reason he kept taking Trelawney’s classes.

“Hmm...” Hermione bit her lip and refocused her attention toward him. “You should talk to Snape. Have him fix his mistake.”

“I can’t!”

Her brow furrowed. “Why not? You’re going to fail if you don’t!”

Harry glanced around, then winced when he noticed the glares coming from the members of his new House.

Just fucking great.

As he if he didn’t have *enough* problems, now he just got caught fraternizing with the enemy.

In Potter’s opinion, he couldn’t win, for loosing

Harry left his pity-partying thoughts and looked back at Hermione. He tugged on the sleeve of her robe and pointed to a little alcove under the grand staircase.

She understood his unspoken suggestion and nodded in agreement. It was a good idea. She didn‘t need to be seen with Potter –who was now a Slytherin– either. Especially, so soon after her House’s defeat.

When they were safely concealed, Harry confessed. “I can’t just waltz up to Snape and demand that he change my schedule.”

“Sure you can.” Hermione interrupted. “He’s the Head of your House, as awful as that may seem.”

Harry shook his head no. “They have a hierarchy, and you’ll get into a lot of trouble if you don’t follow it. To get my schedule fixed, I’d have to go to Zabini or Parkinson *first*, then to *Malfoy* and then, and only then, would I get to talk to Snape.” He gave her a look that pleaded for her to understand his dilemma. “I’d rather not talk to any of them, if I can help it! And I *definitely* don‘t want to ask *them* for help.” Especially Malfoy, he mentally added as he felt himself blush when a flash of last nights almost sexual encounter popped into his head.

“Oh...” She nodded. It made sense that there would be a strict chain of command in Slytherin. She also understood Harry’s desire not to want to beg the Slytherin Court for help.

“Can *you* do something?” He asked hopefully. “You are Head Girl, after all.”

Regretfully, she shook her head no. “I don’t have the authority. But.... If you really feel that uncomfortable talking with your Perfects, and Snape then...why not go talk to Dumbledore about this?”

Harry’s emerald eyes narrowed at the thought of going to the Headmaster. It was his fault that he was in this predicament –in Slytherin– in the first place. Moreover, he was furious with the old man for giving Slytherin a 2 months restriction! Didn’t Dumbledore realize that by doing that it only made it *harder* for him. It wasn’t like he was Neville and had some sort of champion to protect him. I mean really, if Dumbledore wanted him to be in a House full of people who *hated* him, then he could have left him in Gryffindor!

Harry sighed in defeat. “Don’t worry about it, Hermione. I’ll just... It’ll be alright. I’m sure I can do this... These classes are not *that* hard.” He was lying to himself and he knew it. Nevertheless, Harry decided then and there that, no, he was *not* going to Dumbledore about this. The Headmaster would probably only make things *worse.*

At Harry’s words, Hermione frowned. Whether he meant to or not, he had just insulted her intelligence.

However, Harry didn‘t notice, he was too wrapped up in his own woes. “Anyway... It’s not like all of my classes are wrong... Only....” He glanced at the paper again. “ Only five.”

Five of the hardest classes in the whole entire curriculum of Hogwarts. Advance Potions; Advance Runes and Tarot; Advance Charms; Advance Transfiguration; and Advance DADA.

“I mean.... I *was* in all but two of them last year!” He continued, but he neglected to mention that he barely passed DADA, Charms, and Transfiguration. “I’m sure I can pass these classes if I... don’t get distracted.”

Distracted?!! Ha! That was Harry’s middle name.

Hermione gave her friend a pitying look and patted him on the shoulder. “Well, for your sake, Harry, I hope you’re right.” The bushy-haired girl soothed .“Because we have Advanced Potions first.”

Harry pinched his eyes shut and hung his head in defeat.

This was going to be a long year.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco sat, in the front of the large classroom, on the stool, in front of his Daa’s lectern as his students started to meander inside and find their seat. He didn’t revel in their shocked faces when they found out that *he* was teaching them and not Potions Master Snape.

Draco smirked proudly at his Daa’s formal title and at the fact that everyone had a new, and profound, respect for his raven-haired second father, once they found out his true status.

But back to the situation at hand, Draco couldn’t enjoy *his* accomplishments because he was too preoccupied with his own thoughts. His own injustice's.

A few hours ago, after he received his revised version of his attendance roster, he became furious.

Why?

One person.

Who was that person?

“Potter.” The blond grit out through perfect teeth.

The Veela prince wondered how it was possible that one solitary person had the power to strip him of every goal and joy?

The young Malfoy had been anticipating this day since... forever. His Daa promised him, when he was a little boy, that if he worked hard enough, he would allow him to assist him. So Draco worked four times harder than any other student. He had to. His Daa *expected* nothing less. His father *accepted* nothing less. And his mother, well, she didn’t care either way, just as long as he was happy.

And he *was* happy.

Draco loved potions, though he didn’t want to make it his life, he loved it just the same. So working toward his apprenticeship was hard work, but a joyous task. And Draco *did* work hard. And for his efforts, his Daa gave him all of the Advanced classes in the years 4 through 7.

But all that was for naught!

Because now that he had accomplished his goals, Dumbledore sullied, and soured, the sweet taste of his achievement by placing an undeserving, Harry Potter under his almost-divine tutelage.

The old fucker!

Yes, it was Dumbledore who put Potter in his Potions class; even though the ex-Gryffindor wasn’t even eligible to take 7th Year Advanced Potions! He didn’t even take Advanced Potion’s in his six year, which was a prerequisite! Hell, to be technical, Potter wasn’t eligible to take any advanced classes because he barely passed last year! In his depression, Potter allowed his grades to fall horrendously low. The only reason he even passed was because of the Headmaster’s intervention, and the other professor's pity.

It wasn’t fair.

But few things ever were when it came to Harry Potter.

And with that mind frame, Draco started pondering on *why* Dumbledore put him in his Potions class. Moreover, why did that sneaky-ass Headmaster put Harry in most of the classes that he was taking?

Unfortunately, before the blond could give this quandary more thought, Draco was distracted when he heard a loud commotion in the hallway. Always an inquisitive soul, he slipped off his stool and headed for the classroom door, to find out what was going on. What he saw made the apprentice professor smirk a smirk of divine satisfaction.

This was just too perfect.

Hermione tugged on the sleeve of her boyfriend’s robe and yelled. “Ron, come on! Stop dillydallying! You’re going to make us late for Potions!”

“It’s not me, ‘Mione!” The boy whined as he tried, and failed, to not trip over his six pairs of legs. “Ow! I can‘t walk straight with all these legs! Why won‘t McGonagall allow Madame Pomfrey to fix me?”

“You know why, Ron!” Hermione reminded sternly as she helped her boyfriend untangle his legs. “You’re being punished for starting that row!”

“Well, well, well...What *do* we have here? ” Malfoy purred as he sauntered out of his classroom. The sight of Weasley’s disfigurement pulled Draco out of his dark mood. “And why are you making so much noise?”

“Go away, Malfoy!” The red-head growled as he tired to stand up.

Draco smirked. “5 points, Gryffindor, for disrespecting a teacher.”

“What?” The crimson-haired boy yelled. “How in Merlin’s name--”

“Cursing at a teacher, Mr. Weasley?” Draco interrupted as he smiled evilly. “10 More points Gryffindor.”

When Malfoy took more points from their House, Hermione made a squeak as if she were in dire pain but was trying to hold back her reaction to it. When her boyfriend opened his mouth to say something else, she quickly covered it with her hand. Their House was already in the negative, the last thing they needed was to loose anymore points.

“Ron!” Hermione warned. “Just calm down! You’re in enough trouble already!

“I’d listen to her if I were you, Weasley.” Draco chuckled with a twisted satisfaction as he casually pushed back his robe and slipped his hands into his fine wool pants. “But then again....” He tilted his head to the side, in a patronizing gesture. “That means you would actually have to *pay* attention to what she said, and I seriously doubt you can afford it.”

At that insult, all six of Ron’s legs kicked wildly ,and he mumbled something as he tried to pry his girlfriend’s hand from his mouth. However, it was no use. Hermione held her grip on her boyfriend’s mouth more fiercely.

Draco smirked and raised his hand to his ear. “What was that, spider boy? I couldn‘t quite make that out.” He then made a dismissive wave. “It doesn’t matter. I am going to take 5 more points away from Gryffindor anyway... because I’m *sure* it was inappropriate.” When both Ron and Hermione eye’s became comically round, Draco couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him. In his opinion, this was just too damn easy.

But oh so fun.

By this time a small crowed had gathered around them. to watch the spectacle.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was about a minute before class was supposed to start when Harry sprinted down the dungeon’s hall. Merlin knows that he didn’t mean to be late on his first day of Potions – of all classes. Unfortunately he couldn’t help it. The reason he was late was because –after talking to Hermione– he didn’t feel comfortable sitting at the Slytherin table for breakfast. So, instead, he went to the kitchens to grab something to eat. Unluckily, he got stopped by Dobby, who kept talking, and talking, and talking, about socks and other such nonsense.

The raven-haired boy didn’t want to be rude. The little house elf was one of the few, in his circle of friends, who stayed loyal to him. So he stayed, and listened for as long as he could. Fortunately, the stars were with him, for it seemed that his tardiness wouldn’t be noticed. There was a large cluster of students hanging outside of the Potions door. They appeared to be watching Malfoy harass someone in the hallway. Harry tried, but because the crowd was in the way, he couldn’t see exactly who was the unfortunate victim. Nevertheless, he was just glad it wasn’t him.

When Harry realized what, no *who,* he was seeing, he paused in absolute distress.

Malfoy was in the hallway...

Then that probably meant that...

*MALFOY” was teaching Advanced Potions!!

Did the gods hate him or what?!

As Harry just stood there –begging for the floor to just swallow him up– Neville walked up behind his fellow ex-Gryffindor and tapped him on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong, Harry?”

The boy addressed pointed straight ahead and asked. “Is Malfoy teaching Advanced Potions?”

The cutely, round faced boy glanced at Draco then back toward Harry. “Yeah. So? He‘s qualified to teach it.”

Harry shook his head no. That was not what he was distressed about. It was that... he wasn’t ready to face Draco yet! He was still embarrassed from last night. However, before Harry could clarify–not that he *would* clarify, mind you – Neville grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the classroom.

“Come on, Harry, we don’t want to be late!” Longbottom informed seriously. “Draco *hates* it when he has to wait on people. He’ll hex you and feel justified because he feels that you wasted his time.” Neville tired not to think about what Malfoy did to Blaise on the train. He was just glad that he was able to get them a cabin or his boyfriend would have really been in trouble.

“We?” The raven-haired boy was brought out of his own drama at Longbottom’s statement. “You ...you mean *you’re* in Advanced Potions too?” He couldn’t keep the happiness out of his voice. At least he wouldn’t be the worst student in the class.

The brown-haired boy smiled brightly, with both his mouth and his eyes, as he pressed his forefinger against his lips, as if telling Harry to keep it a secret.

Secret?!!

Ha!

There was no way in hell, Longbottom was eligible for this class. Everybody, and their mother, knew that! Neville’s explosions were stuff of legends! He was probably the worst potions student in the history of Hogwarts!

Nevertheless, Harry didn’t say any of that. Instead, he returned the innocent gesture with a happy grin.

When they entered the classroom, Zabini’s gaze immediately focused on his boyfriend. A gentle smile tugged at his mouth, until he noticed Potter walking beside him.

Then Blaise frowned.

And the fact that the two boys seemed to be sharing some type of secret didn’t bode well with the long-haired boy either.

Longbottom didn’t noticed Zabini’s disposition as he smiled brightly and sat beside his boyfriend. “I’m so excited to be having an extra class with you!” He admitted, then grabbed Blaise’s hand and reeled his boyfriend in, for a quick kiss on his mouth.

“Me too.” Zabini sighed dreamily when they parted. He truly loved Neville. Completely and obsessively, and he felt calmed by this public display of affection. Well, he felt calmed until his boyfriend asked Harry to sit at the table behind them. Then Blaise just stared at Neville with a betrayed look on has face.

“What?” Tracy Davis spat out and scowled, after she heard Longbottom’s suggestion. *She* was sitting at the table behind them, and she didn’t want to sit next to the Gryffindor reject.

Her reaction was fine by Harry. He didn’t want to sit next to her anyway. He couldn’t stand Tracy. The only reason he even considered it was because Neville asked him to. However, before Potter decided to find somewhere else to sit, Blaise turned in his seat and gave Tracy a warning glare. Zabini didn’t even have to say one word, before the red-haired girl quickly cooled her distaste and her complaints. She even *apologized* to Harry for her behavior and *offered* the seat to him.

Blaise Zabini was *not* someone you wanted to piss off.

Potter knew that the Perfect’s intervention wasn’t for his benefit. Zabini could care less about him. It was solely for his cherub. Harry had noticed Neville give his boyfriend a silent, pleading, look right before the other raven-haired boy turned around and glared at Tracy.

It seemed, the more Harry was around the odd looking couple, he was finding out that the two boys were truly in love. Not only that, it seemed that Zabini was completely smitten with Longbottom, and the beautiful teen would do anything to keep his cherub happy. When Harry sat, uncomfortably, beside Tracy, he idly wondered what it would feel like to wield so much power over someone as mean and vicious as Blaise Zabini.

Or better yet..... Draco Malfoy.

~~~~~~~~

Speaking of Draco. The blond was enjoying wielding his own power, in the corridor.

“That’s five more points, Gryffindor.” The xanthochroid drawled amusedly. “Care to go for anymore?”

The Head Girl’s eyes tripled in size. In the few minutes since Ron fell down, Malfoy had managed to take a total of 35 points away from Gryffindor, and class hadn’t even started yet! She looked at her boyfriend and could tell that he was furious. Furious at the injustice of it all, yet the consequences weren’t stopping him from smarting off at Draco. If this kept up, Gryffindor would be so far in the negative, they would be trying to make up the points next year! So knowing that she couldn’t keep Ron subdued for long, Hermione swallowed her pride, looked up at the teen, who was standing, menacingly, over them and pleaded.

“Mr. Malfoy....We’re sorry for making so much noise. It won‘t happen again.”

Ron whipped his gaze toward his girlfriend and shot her a furious, betrayed glare.

“See that it doesn’t, Miss Granger.” Draco drawled as he arched a surprised brow at her concession, then stated with amused condensation. “As Head Girl, I expect more from you because you are *supposed* to be an example.” Draco then turned around and headed back into the classroom, but before he walked through the arched doorway, he gave them a side profile of his face and informed “Weasley, Granger, you’re late. 5 points Gryffindor.”

When the rest of the students heard their young professor take points away from Ron and Hermione for tardiness, they quickly rushed to their seats.

Draco ignored the rest of his students as they flurried past him; however, the blond couldn’t stop his laughter as he walked back toward the lectern. It no longer mattered that Dumbledore put unworthy students in his class. In Draco’s opinion, this teaching thing was *definitely* going to be fun.

He grabbed his attendance rota, from his desk, and stood in front of the class. Oh what a different perspective it was to be on this side of the potions table.

Draco could still remember his first year, in this classroom. This was only place in Hogwarts were he could find solace, and his Daa was larger than life in his crystal eyes. Actually, Snape still was, but it was that first speech that took his breath way. It was something special. Draco could still see his Daa now, gliding around the room as he eloquently said

“I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death-- if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

Unfortunately for his Daa most his students *were* dunderheads. However, there were exceptions. Draco allowed his piercing gaze to roam over his students.

*These* were the exceptions.

They were a miss-mesh all four houses, brought together in one classroom because they were the scholastically elite for their years.

Unfortunately... most of them were still dunderheads.

Draco took a deep breath and began.

“I don’t believe that I need to introduce myself...” He gazed at his students, and noticed that most of them were still disfigured, in some way. So he added. “But just incase some of you acquired brain damage, in yesterday’s row, my name is Draco Malfoy. But while in the confines of this classroom you *will* address me as Professor Malfoy. Nothing less. You *will* respect my authority as your Professor. And you *will* respect *me*.” He glared at the small cluster of Gryffindors in the room. “Is that clear?” He didn’t wait for them to answer before he continued. “Disobedience will be dealt with harshly.” He looked at Ron. “If you try me, and my patience, you will regret it. All of you should already know that I have no tolerance for belligerent arrogance.”

Everyone in the class knew that the fair-haired teen had the shortest temper in the whole school. Anything could set him off. Therefore, there was a low mumble of agreement to that statement as well as a few whispers confessing fears of having Malfoy for a teacher.

Draco continued his speech as he ignored the near-silent comments. “I know that some of you have been fed *lies* these past six years. So I am setting things straight, now.” He looked directly at Hermione and spoke to her as if she were retarded. “I’m smarter than you. And there is nothing that *you* know that I don‘t *already* know... So please, save yourself the embarrassment of trying to stump me.”

The Head Girl scowled at him. Merlin knew that she hated Draco Malfoy, and just for that insult, Hermione made it her *duty* to make a fool out of his arrogant arse.

“So easy to goad.” The blond thought as he ignored her predicted response of displeasure, and returned his attention toward the class. “Hodie mihi, cras tibi...”

Neville leaned toward his boyfriend and asked in whisper. “What does that mean?”

Blaise glanced at Draco to make sure his best friend didn’t notice them talking, then answered. “What’s for me today, is tomorrow for you.”

“Oh.” The brown-haired boy whispered back then started to pay attention to Professor Malfoy again.

“If you are wise.” Draco continued. “You won‘t allow your own pride to inhibit you from learning.... However,” The blond shrugged dismissively. “If you fail... It will be your own fault. I’m going to do *my* job and teach you the required criteria. So it’s up to you to do *yours.* Your passing, or failing, doesn’t matter to me. It’s not my grade that will suffer. It’s yours.” He smirked darkly. “So lets get this straight from the get-go, shall we. Your personal feelings toward me are of no concern . Never have been. Never will be.” He arched a challenging brow. “Therefore, if you allow your objections, to my position, to affect your participation. You. Will. Fail.”

At the end of that statement, Draco gave them a smile that said. “Trust me. Try me. I *want* to fail you.” He then opened his roster and began to call roll.

“Millicent Bulstrode.”

“Present.” The blond answered.

“Pansy Parkinson.”

“Present.” The other blond called out. She was sitting next to her friend at the table, in the front row.

Draco had to force his voice to stay apathetically neutral when he called out this next name. “Harry Potter.”

The teen addressed felt the weight of everyone’s surprised gaze when Malfoy called out his name, so he made a point to not shy away from it, as he answered “Here.”

“Tracy Davis.”

“Present.” She answered as she scooted herself further away from Potter. The last thing she needed was for people to start thinking that she and Potter were friends.

“Blaise Zabini.”

“Present.”

Draco’s gazed snapped away from his rota and toward the class when he read who was the next person on his list. He had to make sure that he wasn‘t imagining things – though he hoped that he was. “Neville Longbottom?”

What in the HELL?!!! Someone must have *just* added that. Because it *wasn’t* there this morning!

The brown-haired boy sheepishly answered. “Here.”

Everyone in the class stared at the cluster of Slytherins again. How they missed seeing the little butterball the first time, they had no idea. However, this time, the expression on everyone’s faces were not just a combination of shock and anger, –because neither Neville or Harry deserved to be there – This time their expression was that of fear. Yes, fear.

Pure. Unadulterated. Fear.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily before he continued with the rest of his list. His dark mood was returning.

A few minutes later, when he finished taking attendance, Draco realized that he had a total of twenty one students in this one class. 6 Slytherin; 8 Ravenclaw; 4 Hufflepuff and 3 Gryffindor. Luckily, the odd number of students wasn’t going to be a problem. Most, if not all, of the potions they would be creating this year were independent.

“Alright class...” Draco began in a Shakespearean voice. “Last year, Professor Snape assigned an assignment for you to accomplish over the summer. And as you already know, it’s worth 20 percent of this semesters grade. It’s due. ”

Without any groans of protest, all the students were pulling out their assigned parchments. But Harry and Neville looked sick. 20% of their grade!! This wasn’t fair! How were they supposed to turn it in when they didn’t even take Advance Potions last year? They weren’t even given the assignment after they received their schedule, this morning! It wasn’t fair!

Neville looked at his boyfriend in distress. He was now regretting that they didn’t bring the mistake, in his schedule, to Draco to have fixed. This morning, when they found out that he was in the class, Blaise convinced him that it was “perfect” because now they had one more class together. Neville was still wary about staying in the class, considering how horrible he was at it, but his long-haired boyfriend promised that he wouldn’t let him fail. And Neville trusted him

But now, he was going to fail away!

Zabini noticed his love’s fear and gently cupped the other boy’s cheek, in the palm of his hand. “Do you still trust me?” He asked in a tender whisper.

“Of course I do.” Longbottom answered without doubt or hesitation.

Blaise’s chest puffed out a bit, at his boyfriend’s devotion. “Then let me worry about the assignment, okay?” He gave him a cocky wink as he whispered. “I have it covered.”

On the other side of the massive classroom, Draco went by each table and scrutinized each one of his students as he picked up their assignments. Such idiots they were. He could tell, by the way most of them shied away from his gaze that ...it wasn’t *their* work they were turning in. Draco surmised that out of his 21 students, maybe 8 of them did their own work. The rest worked together.

Or in other words, they cheated.

Draco bestowed a heavy and soul piercing gaze on Granger, when she gave him her assignment. And like he expected, she shifted her focus away from him. It wasn’t that *she* cheated, it was that she had allowed her boyfriend to copy her work.

When the young professor went to gather up Weasley’s work, the crimson-haired teen practically threw the rolled parchment at him. Ron’s smugness came from the fact that he had completed his assignment and was therefore *guaranteed* at least 20% of his grade.

Guaranteed? Ha!

Draco couldn’t help but smile with a dark satisfaction at the boy’s haughtiness.

Oh yes, this was going to be so sweet.

Lastly, Draco picked up the Slytherin’s assignments. He knew for a fact that they did their own work, for they were his practice students this summer. However, when Blaise handed him *two* parchments –one with Zabini’s name on it and other with Longbottom’s– Draco just stared at his best friend. Then curiosity got the better of him, and he unrolled Longbottom’s parchment. Immediately, the blond noticed that it was a magically replicated version of Blaise’s homework.

His friend didn’t even bother to change the handwriting!

Draco slightly pursed his lips and raised an elegant brow. Did Blaise think that he was stupid? Or did falling in love make you lose your mind? If it was the latter, then Draco was *never* going to fall in love. If it was the former... then his friend was cruising for a bruising hex.

“I’ll owe you one.” Zabini whispered, in defeat, when he started to notice Malfoy’s anger.

“Oh, it will be more than one, I assure you.” Draco informed as he left to pick up Tracy’s, and possibly Potter’s homework, as well.

Draco sighed.

The things he let Slytherins get away with.

Amazingly enough, Harry didn’t have the assignment, which truly surprised Draco. He was sure that the Headmaster would have pulled something out his brim hat for his favorite student.

“I would like to thank all of you for your hard work over the summer.” Malfoy said as he placed all of the assignments on his potions table.

There were some “you’re welcomes” coming from various people in various Houses.

Draco gave them a disarming, pleased smile. “I know how difficult this assignment was. I was the one who created it. At the very least, it should have taken you one month to complete it.”

There were nods from the few people who actually did the work, and those who were dumb enough to reveal that they cheated, had their eyes as wide as saucers. Most notably, Ron Weasley.

“Nonetheless...” Draco continued with an ostentatious smile. “If you did the assignment, you would be more than prepared for this class.” He raked his hands through his thick, gossamer silk hair, making it feather beautifully.

It was another disarming gesture.

And it was working.

But what they didn’t know was that...

He was setting them up.

For the kill.

When the majority of the class nodded, Malfoy’s gentle smile became predatory. Shark like. “I’m glad you agree. That‘s why instead of grading these papers.” He gestured to the desk and the assignments on it. “I‘m going to give you a test for your 20%.”

An explosion of protest came from almost everyone.

Draco’s crystals eyes narrowed dangerously. “What’s wrong? If you did the work. You will have absolutely no problem with this test. I didn’t add anything that you didn’t already cover this summer.”

“But... that‘s not fair!” Parvati Patil cried out. “What if we did the assignment in the *beginning* of summer? That’s two months of not looking at it! How do you expect us to remember all of that information?”

When the students –who cheated– voiced their agreement with Patil’s logic, Draco turned a weighted glare on the girl, making her recoil in fear. The young professor noticed that she was sitting beside her twin sister. Padma Patil. A Ravenclaw and the one who actually did the work.

“Miss Patil, that assignment was given to you to prepare you for this class.” Draco drawled. “So if you only chose to *copy* the information and not actually *learn* it... Then you are going to fail this test.” The young professor then turned his gaze on the rest of his class. “Apparently, you all have forgotten that until this year, I was your peer... I know your tricks, and though I never revealed your tactics, I know how you got over on Professor Snape.”

What all of them didn’t know was that they never really got over on Snape. It was just that over the years, the raven-haired professor stopped caring that they cheated, just as long as they did the work.

“It’s not going to work with me!” Malfoy said as he glowered at them. “So please, don’t insult my intelligence, it will only serve to Piss_ Me_ Off!” He turned his attention on everyone, including Slytherins “If you want to pass, you’re going to work for it.” He then looked directly at Ron.“ And you’re going to do your *own* fucking work!”

At his use of profanity, a couple of Hufflepuffs gasped in shock. However, because of Malfoy’s apathy to their plight, everyone else shut up. His lack of concern wasn’t what hushed them, though. It was their fear. Malfoy was getting angry and an angry Draco Malfoy was never a good thing.

“Now take out your quills and prepare yourself for your test!” Then, with an angry flick of his wrist, the test appeared in front of everyone in the classroom.

The sight of Malfoy using wandless magic scared them even more than his anger.

That’s why the blond did it.

Well, that and the fact that his wand was broken. But they didn’t need to know that.

Draco ignored their stunned expressions and picked up two parchments from his table, then walked over toward Neville and Harry. He placed one in front of each boy.

“Hey!” Ron angrily cried out “That’s not fair!”

Harry felt a breeze of angry, magical, energy come from the Veela standing in front of him. Harry then looked over at his ex best friend with a dumbfounded expression. He wondered if Ron was trying to piss Draco off on purpose?

“What’s not fair, Mr. Weasley?” Draco asked with forced patience. This teacher thing was getting harder by the minute.

“That they get to use the answers!” The red-head fumed as he pointed accusingly at this former housemates “We should be able to use the answers too! Harry didn’t even *do* the assignment! Why does he get one?”

Hermione tugged on her boyfriend’s sleeve as she tried to silently, and inconspicuously, calm her boyfriend down.

Draco looked at Potter, and let his eyes travel over the boy’s face. Then unconsciously, the boy’s mouth when Harry started to nervously worry on his bottom lip.

Oh the things Draco was going to do to that mouth last night.

Immediately, after that unwanted libidinous thought, Draco mentally slapped himself. His Veela urges be damned; he was *not* going to allow himself to lust after Potty. Ironically, the demon prince wasn’t the only one thinking along those lines because Harry blushed heavily under his scrutiny and shyly looked away. When the bashful, Gryffindor heir refocused his attention back on his test, Draco quickly shifted his gaze down to Potter’s attire, and to the crest on his robe.

The Snake Crest.

Draco sighed again.

*That* was why Harry got to get the answers.

The things he did for Slytherins. Even when the Slytherin was *Harry Potter.*

Malfoy looked back at Ron and snarled. “Mr. Weasley, unlike *you,* Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Potter didn’t have three months to acquaint themselves with this information; therefore, the only *fair* thing to do is give them a reference as they take this test.” The young professor smirked at the logic in which he explained his favoritism. “Don’t you agree?”

The red-haired boy was about to say no, but was stopped when Hermione pinched him, hard, on the arm. So instead, he scowled, loudly, and returned to his test.

As Harry watched a satisfied Malfoy saunter back to his lectern, he smiled. And for the first time since he was sorted into Slytherin, he was thinking.

“Maybe this won’t be so bad.”

tbc
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Okay, just as a warning. Its April 10,2003. and this is the last new chapter that I have completely finished to date. I’m still working on the rest, but just as a warning to everyone who cares, they won’t be coming out as fast. I am so sorry. But I promise you that I am still writing and my muse is still with me. ^__^ Its just that the first 14 chapters were coming out fairly quickly because I was reediting them. (sheepish grin) 15 had been finished for a while, but the site I have my fic on, hasn’t updated. (pokes out bottom lip) So this is a completely new chapter.( smiles brightly)

I truly hope you enjoyed it.

I would love to thank everyone one who has reviewed. You truly make writing worth it. Thank you SOOOOO much. Lots and lots of love.

xoxoxox
babychan