Year 5 - Stockholm

Chapter 10

Practice

The flyer was the first thing he noticed as he checked the bulletin board for the new password. The bold letters at the top of the page. Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.

Since Professor Umbridge came to the castle, all she focused upon was Potter and his activities. It was not a difficult stretch to assume that this decree was directed toward him, his followers, and all others within the castle that supported his cause. One of those followers was Hermione Granger.

He read through the statement carefully. It spoke of student organizations and groups. Potter had his own. Or the Professor was under the impression that he did.

"What is the new password?"

A girl trudged up, overloaded with a lengthy cloak overtop her school robes.

"Phineas," he replied flatly.

Potter was up to something which meant Granger was up to something. She had given no indication of such happenings which led to only one conclusion: it was secret. Secret meetings, a hidden organization, Umbridge, and Potter.

He frowned. Life wasn't hell enough already. She had to find herself at the center of a new professor's hunt for rulebreakers.

That very morning, he received a letter from his own father that read with very haunting news.

Word has spread of your new pet. Are you mad, my son? Do you know the sensitivity of our situation? Our entirety depends upon success in our venture now, and a mudblood pet is no way to gain favor. The Dark Lord's ear has been filled with stories of your taming ability already. You must not fail now. I fear what might have prompted this need to tame Miss Granger, and I forbid you to give fire to it. A Malfoy must not feed into fantasies, Draco. Find your head before it costs us ours. Tame your pet. It will be at our family's loss if the mudblood is not all you claim her to be.

The Dark Lord's wrath did not need to be spelled out.

Draco felt the sudden pressure to contain her. She had to show she was not a wild Gryffindor, but an obedient pet.

It had been his goal. Once.

"How are things, Draco?"

The girl stayed within his company, something he hadn't noticed. He pulled himself away from the bulletin, not his frustration.

"Fine," he answered.

"Pansy still giving you trouble about Granger?" Daphne asked. She pulled out a file and started to tend to her fingernails with intensity.

He watched her movements for a minute, insulted at the statement, before he replied, "Pansy couldn't give a cat trouble, much less me."

"All she does is give me trouble." The witch snorted.

"Because she's a handful."

She eased his tension when she laughed at his joke. He suddenly relaxed into a chair, sinking deeper into the leather cushions, swallowed by comfort. It was a cold morning in Slytherin.

He awoke that morning to color on his breath. The glass of the windows was coated in a thin film of fog. Waters of the Black Lake were murky, filled with darkness after its name. Little light filtered through the depths.

Draco was drawn to more warmth. The flames of the common room fire were next to his leg, yet he felt minorly lifted from the frigid chill.

Daphne Greengrass adjusted the thick glasses on her face fallen crooked from her focus upon the little tops of her fingernails. "What is the purpose of your pet?"