Dazed and Confused

Title: Dazed and Confused
Author: Amonara
Disclaimer: All characters are just borrowed from JK Rowling, for my playing pleasure.
Note: Chapter 4 is finally up after much waiting. The story should start moving onward after this chapter, hopefully. I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for all your lovely reviews, they really inspire me!
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Draco Malfoy scowled, the pale skin of his forehead wrinkling between his well shaped brows. Transfigurations was his least favorite subject, especially when he had the misfortune of being assigned to double transfigurations. Not only was he forced to sit in a hard wooden desk listening to that miserable old bat McGonagall rant on about N.E.W.Ts and how important it was to study the applications and the processes of the spells they were expected to perform, but he was forced to do it the presence of his least favorite house, Gryffindor. He stole a glance over at Granger his grey eyes glittering with triumph. She wasn’t hard to spot in the veritable crimson tide of Gryffindors, she sat well to the front of the class her bushy head of hair wobbling excitedly as she took notes, her quill flying across the parchment in her haste to capture McGonagall’s every word. Draco managed to muffle his derisive snort, as Professor McGonagall shot him a glance that could have curdled milk.

“Mister Malfoy, if you please. Perhaps if you did not spend so much time smirking you might pass this class, kindly pay attention if you will.”

The Gryffindor side of the room erupted into quiet yet audible snickers and short bursts of laughter. Draco clenched his fist around his quill barely able to keep his face from contorting into a look of pure fury. He had been humiliated once again; this time he assured himself that it would be the last time. Once his plan was put into action the Gryffindors would be too busy with their own drama to laugh at Draco Malfoy.

He glanced down at his parchment as McGonagall began to expound on Conjuring Spells once more and resigned himself over to taking notes; he was Head Boy after all. Besides his father wouldn’t expect him to spend his class time plotting the downfall of the Golden Trio, which was reserved for his free time along with other nameless pursuits of pleasure that his father did not specifically endorse. It was well known within in the confines of Hogwarts that Draco Malfoy was a philanderer. It was hard to say whether this was discussed more by the female or the male population. Either way his merits in the bed chamber were discussed with admiration on both sides. The girls of Hogwarts whispered of his legendary knowledge of the female body, he certainly wasn’t as fumbling as his peers. There are very few teenage boys in the world that know the workings of the female gentalia just as well as their own, Draco Malfoy was one. He was most likely the only seventeen year-old in Hogwarts with such knowledge. This information did not escape the male population, but no boys like to think of themselves as inferior in that department, and if some anxious Slytherin came to Draco for advice then he did not utter a word of the encounter. What most interested the boys of Hogwarts, those from his own house regarded him with admiration and the rest were torn between jealousy and scorn, was Draco’s rap sheet, the proverbial notches in his bed post. In his sixth year alone, he conquered all the eligible girls in Slytherin. Although in this Draco had to give some grudging credit to Pansy, she had been his first, though by no means had he been a virgin at the time. It had been almost too easy, but he had garnered some satisfaction from the ordeal. He hadn’t expected her to be so clumsy, all his previous encounters had been with much more experienced and older women, but she knew enough to ascertain that their one night together was exceptional. The silly girl had blabbed to all the other sixth year girls; he supposed some of it was bragging that she had finally “got” him at last. It proved to be a large mistake, which Draco reaped the benefits from. The next night he found himself approached by a rather pretty brunette with a bargain only a Slytherin girl could come up with. Draco found the power he had over women intoxicating, arousing in fact. Nothing pleased him more than to see a woman or girl writhing underneath him, falling apart at his mere touch. And thus Draco’s philandering ways began. He flitted from bed to bed never staying long enough to get attached. A muggle psychiatrist would have suggested that this might spring from a fear of being loved and the result of his cold childhood spent at Malfoy Manor always striving to live up to his parents’ standards. Somehow he had never pleased them, he had always failed in some way; even at Hogwarts he had continued to be an embarrassment. So perhaps it was only natural that he found the one thing he was good at and made sure he excelled at it.
--

Hermione welcomed the bell with a sigh of relief; her long excruciating day was finally over. She had thrown herself into her studies with a fury and now the end of the day left her tired and drained. She quickly made her excuses to Harry and Ron, pleading a headache and promised to meet them in the Gryffindor common room later that evening. She sneaked one last quick look over her shoulder at Ron who was talking animatedly with Harry, before hoisting her satchel of books into place and heading for the library. She needed some peace and quiet. She knew a dusty little corner where she could sit undisturbed and sort out her mind. She refused to acknowledge the fact that she could do the same thing perfectly well in her own room, but she did not feel like running the risk of bumping into Malfoy. There in her corner surrounded by the wonderful smell of musty old books she would come up with a solution to her situation. She comforted herself with the thought that there hadn’t been a single problem in her life that she hadn’t been able to solve with a trip to the library.

Two hours later when Madam Pince kindly woke her, Hermione still had no idea. All she had gained from her trip to the library was a red forehead. Malfoy it seemed had hemmed her in from all sides, well, she wasn’t a Gryffindor for nothing. If she couldn’t solve her problem with logic then perhaps it was time to run some trials on what Hermione had already begun mentally calling “The Curse,” capital letters and all.

Hermione stood up, adjusting her bushy hair with one hand, silently reminding herself to use more conditioner, and picked up her satchel. She glanced at her chronometer and gave herself an hour to experiment before she had to meet up with Ron and Harry again.

As Hermione headed through the hallway, she glanced at the time once more. It was dinner time, hopefully Malfoy was in the Great Hall and she could safely make it to her room. It felt ridiculous having to sneak into her own living quarters, but until she figured out how to resist Malfoy’s potion she didn’t feel safe facing him. She still couldn’t forget the leer on his face as he had confronted her, she knew half of it had been an act to scare her and it had. Still, the fact of the matter was that she was almost completely under the control of someone else and an enemy none the less. Hermione Granger did not like being submissive, she was one that was always in control and gave the orders. Now the roles were reversed and she did not like it one bit.

By the time she had reached the large portrait that hid the entrance to the Head Boy and Girl’s quarters, Hermione was seething. She had thought the whole situation over and over on the walk up to their tower and as a consequence was now thoroughly steamed.

“Password,” Chimed the girl and boy that inhabited the enormous painting. As usual they spoke in harmony, something Hermione found incredibly annoying.

“Pax aureum,” She replied to the twosome, as they pompously straightened their robes while the portrait swung open.

Hoping against hope that the Head-Boy-from-Hell was at dinner, she ducked through the narrow entrance and into the circular common area that she was forced to share. A fire was crackling merrily away in the fire place banishing the drafty fall chill that seemed to permeate the little tower. The stone walls were tastefully decorated with a few colorful tapestries, the golden threads gleaming brightly in the flickering light from the fire.

Seeing that the common room was deserted, she plopped down onto the purple squishy couch that was conveniently placed directly in front of the fireplace. Relief surged through her body, banishing her anger for the moment. With a thump she deposited her satchel of books on the floor by her feet and sighed closing her eyes slightly as she let her head sink back into the leathery softness of the couch. It had been an entirely too long day.

A log cracked and burst in the fireplace, making Hermione start out of the light slumber she had drifted into once again. She felt so burnt out, her mind was just as tired as her body. With all the studying she had been doing recently, curricular and otherwise, she hadn’t gotten much sleep. Then the fiasco with Ron had happened and she found herself burdened with even more worries. Times were dark with Voldemort regrouping after the last battle; it was a mark of Dumbledore’s powers that the school still remained in session at all. Harry’s well being was always a constant reminder in the back of her mind, as well as Ron’s. Not to the mention the members of the Order who were out in the field fighting to keep them safe. They had already lost a few, and Hermione did not know if she could stand any more deaths. This coupled with the Head Girl’s duties and struggling with the usual teenage problems would send anyone else into hysterics. Not Hermione, so far she had managed to remain calm and collected. She had felt as if she was in some semblance of control, and then Draco Malfoy had handed her another problem to juggle.

She sighed, standing up and wearily draping the leather satchel over her shoulder. She didn’t even have the energy to investigate Malfoy’s potion anymore. Perhaps if she hurried she could make it up the twisting stone stairs that led up to their rooms and be in the Gryffindor common room before the twit even made an appearance.
--

Draco sat imperiously at his table in the Great Hall flanked on either side by Crabbe and Goyle. He was situated smack dab in the middle of the Slytherin table, and no one dared to sit directly in front of him. Draco had tight control over the majority of his house mates. In his sixth year faced with the arrest of his father and subsequent placement in Azkaban, Draco had two choices: Be brought down with his father or use the incident to his advantage. Naturally, Draco chose the latter. It wasn’t hard to band together those students whose parents were Death Eaters. His group gradually became feared, and when he had all of the younger students and some of the older students in Slytherin under his control, that fear slowly turned to subservience and admiration. Those of the Slytherin house knew when they needed to humble themselves for advancement. And several set their minds on working their way into Draco’s favor. Which, unsurprisingly, was a feat more easily accomplished by the Slytherin girls.

Draco sipped the expensive brandy out of the golden goblet held delicately in his long artistic fingers, his face blank of any emotion save the slight smirk hovering at the edges of his lips. He let his unreadable grey eyes flicker calculatingly over to the Gryffindor table, scouring over Harry Potter’s section of the table. All of Hermione’s friends seemed quite unaware that anything could be possibly amiss. Draco’s eyes flickered with an inner flame, seeing that his bushy haired victim was absent. Something he considered to be a point of victory.

“A word, Draco?” The sibilant tones of Professor Snape oiled the air around Draco.

He swiftly settled his face into a blank expression, his respect for the older man still apparent in his eyes.

“Yes, Professor?”

The tall man merely gestured slightly with a tilt of his head, his pale slightly oily features unreadable. Draco nodded silently in return and rose gracefully from the table, bending down to whisper instructions into Vincent’s ear, before following Professor Snape out of the Great Hall.

Draco attempted to make him-self comfortable in the hard black leather chair that Professor Snape had conjured into his drafty office. The sneaky head boy had carefully assembled his face into blank innocence, in preparation for whatever the Head of Slytherin planned to speak with him about. Draco was positive that his blackmail project hadn’t been unearthed, and he was of the opinion that Severus Snape would turn a blind eye if he had any inkling, although the man had a worrisome obedience to Dumbledore. Draco himself had no use for the crackpot old man, no matter how powerful he was reputed to be, after all his father had told him many times how blundering and inefficient the old man was.

“Chocolate?”

Draco resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow as the Potions Master proffered an elegant silver serving tray burdened by fine chocolates.

“No?” The tall pale man sent the tray flying smoothly over to his desk with a flick of his wand.

“What did you want to see me about, Professor?” Draco asked, deciding that being straight forward was the best way to go.

“It has come to my attention that you have…organized…a group of your peers.” Here he grimaced as if he were being forced to deal with an unpleasant issue.

“As you know, here at Hogwarts, leadership is a prized quality, as duly demonstrated by our beloved Potter.” Snape leaned lightly against the edge of the desk, his arms folded across his chest, the words dripping venomously from his tongue.

“However, groups that do not promote inter-house unity are not encouraged, and as your group has encompassed…nearly all of Slytherin…the Headmaster has decreed that I resolve this matter.” The black clad man, look almost admiringly at Draco, before sighing.

“I think you know where I am going with this?”

“Yes, sir. Since I’m Head Boy I should set an example for the rest of the house.”

“Exactly.”

Draco nodded relieved and only slightly annoyed by the request. It was a small price to pay, but he needed to stay in Hogwarts for as long as possible. His future depended on his education, not mention the success of his plan. If he wanted to succeed in the real world that is in any position of worth it was vital that he garnered the approval of his father. Draco refused to acknowledge Voldemort’s place in his entire scheme, that idea made it all too dangerous. It made him question his father’s ideals and the values he had grown up with. Draco wasn’t ready to face that truth and he wasn’t sure he ever would be. Until then it remained an annoying bossy voice in the back of his mind.

“You are excused, Draco.” Snape barked sharply, eying his favorite pupil shrewdly.

--

Hermione clambered through the Gryffindor portrait hole having determinedly pushed the potion to the back of her mind. She had decided to enjoy the evening. So far it was going reasonably well, she hadn’t run into Draco and she was going to spend the rest of evening in front of a warm fire with her friends. She felt her face breaking into a broad smile as she spotted Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Neville grouped together in a cluster of worn cushiony chairs.

“Hi all.” She said cheerfully, plopping down on the arm of Ginny’s chair.

Ron cleared his throat valiantly fighting a blush, as he stared fixatedly at her legs which were bared by the upward motion of her skirt.

“How was your day? You look tired?” Ginny questioned her friend.

Hermione managed a small smile, patting her hair absently.

“Tiring actually. I think my N.E.W.T. studies are getting to me.”

Ron snorted, “You’re the one that’s mad enough to start studying this early.”

Hermione shot him a playful glare, not allowing her eyes to quite meet his.

Ginny coughed slightly shooting Harry a significant look before standing up.

“Uh, Harry, do you think you could go over some quidditch plays with me? The last few you went over during practice aren’t quite sticking.”

Harry sat in his chair for a moment before finally catching on and standing up quickly.

“Oh, right.”

Ginny and Harry headed for the portrait hole, Hermione’s red headed friend accidentally kicking Neville in the shins.

“Ouch! I..uh…better go to bed…” Neville stumbled hastily off leaving Ron and Hermione sitting alone.

Hermione laughed moving her chair closer to Ron’s.

“I guess they wanted to give us some time alone.”

“Yeah, so…” Ron trailed off nervously.

Hermione blushed; somehow in the dim light of the common room surrounded by students everything was different, so much more juvenile. The confidence of the night before had left her and an awkward silence was slowly building itself between them.

“Um, do you want to go for a walk?” Hermione suggested nervously.

Ron suddenly sat up straight and groaned.

“What is it, Ron?”

“I’ve got rounds tonight! I forgot.”

Hermione moved to sit on the arm of Ron’s chair and kissed his cheek lightly.

“Then why don’t I help you patrol?”