Harry Potter - Foresight Reawakened - ch17: end of the year
HP - foresight reawakened - (17) end of the year
*
It was the end of year feast. The tables were full of empty plates and salivating, fidgeting students. The ceiling was a mass of stars and twilight shades. The head table was bursting with teachers. Draco’s belongings were all packed in his trunk, Potter and his little crew appeared safe, human, and smiling when they stepped into the dining hall, Draco’s father was finally out of prison, though Merlin knew where, and all was right with the world.
The headmaster stood up and cleared his throat.
Draco rolled his eyes at Pansy and tuned him out. He tuned back in when Potter’s name was mentioned.
“…and fifty points to Hermione Granger for her expert application of Wolfsbane, and fifty points to Ronald Weasley for his valor and courage in facing alone a field of Moving Mines.” The students clapped despite the Gryffindor counter rising even higher than it had been before. Slytherin was behind them by about one hundred points now, and behind Ravenclaw, the second highest, by thirty five points. Hufflepuff was last, but Draco didn’t care about them. He suspected no one else did, either.
“Why doesn’t he get on with it,” Pansy grumbled.
“I know,” Draco whispered back.
“And finally, fifty points to Draco Malfoy-”
“What?” Draco was floored. And very, very nervous. Please don’t say what I did, Draco pleaded with his eyes. Dumbledore looked right at him…and smiled. The dodgy old fart.
“-because it takes great strength of character to value the safety of one’s enemies over one’s reputation.”
And just like that, his reputation was shot. Again. Because of bloody Potter. Dammit to hell and back. Draco glared at Dumbledore for all he was worth. The headmaster’s eyes twinkled-or was that his specs?-and sat down.
Everyone waited.
Nothing happened.
“Oh!” The headmaster stood again. “Gryffindor wins the house cup!” Gryffindor cheered. Banners flowed from the ceiling, red and gold and adorned with the Gryffindor lion. Draco rolled his eyes. How many years could this go on?
The headmaster sat down again.
Everyone waited.
Nothing happened.
Dumbledore stood up again. “Let the feast begin!”
*
No one spoke to Draco during the meal, not even Blaise and Pansy, despite the surprise points bumping them into second place for the house cup. When he got back to the dormitory, Draco flopped back down onto his bed.
“It’s not so bad, I suppose,” Blaise said, closing the door behind him.
“Right. Why didn’t you answer me when I asked you to pass me the potatoes?”
“Because I didn’t want to be seen talking to you so soon after the announcement.”
Draco glared at him. “I hate you when you’re honest. You always say the most horrid things.”
Blaise rolled his eyes and started digging around in his trunk. “I promise to lie to you from now on, how’s that?”
“You’re lying.”
The door opened again and Pansy strolled in, now out of her school robes and in a black skirt and green blouse. “How do you like them? Todd gave them to me!”
Draco sat up and gave her a once over. “You look smashing. Who’s Todd?”
Pansy glared up at the ceiling, then turned her angry face to Draco. She looked like a harpy when she was angry, but Draco decided some things were better left unsaid. “Do you pay the least bit of attention to anything that’s not to do with you?”
“If you mean listen to rumors, then no, I don’t. Is Todd your low bo-boyfriend?” he amended hastily.
Pansy gave him a look that promised death. “I’ll overlook that. But yes, he is.” Suddenly she was smiling. She flounced over to Blaise’s bed and dove onto it, rolling once and settling on her stomach, feet absently kicking in the air and head resting on her hands. “I think I’m in love.”
Draco pouted. “I think I’m in hell. Do you realize no one’s going to speak to me until next year? You two won’t even speak to me in public anymore.”
“Relax, Draco, we’ll speak to you on the train. Won’t we, Blaise?”
“I plan to read, actually.” As if to prove it, he tossed a book from his trunk to the bed.
Draco craned his head and squinted. “Medieval Torture and You. You’re-”
“Nutters,” Pansy finished for him. She flipped open to a picture of a gauntlet and read the page. “I take it back, Blaise-let me read this when you’re finished.”
“I’ll owl it to you.”
Draco kicked off his shoes and sprawled dramatically on his bed with a sigh. Then he smiled. He would miss this.
*
The train was crowded with students hugging and saying farewells to people sitting in other cars. Draco simply loaded his trunk in a clear place and got on. It was ridiculous, the fanfare going on. He tried to ignore the pang in his chest that said he would have been one of those had it not been for Dumbledore. And Potter. Always Potter.
Draco waited for the familiar anger to well up, but it didn’t come. Instead, a different feeling, like nerves but not quite, welled up in his stomach. Draco’s shoulders drooped. “It really is starting then,” he said hopelessly.
He took a seat alone on the train and waited for his friends. He saw Granger’s head poke into his car and then duck back out, what might have been “thanks” trailing after her. Then Pansy came in and started acting lovelorn. “Todd’s in another car! And it’s full of…Hufflepuffs!”
Draco rolled his eyes. “He’s got horrible taste then-no offense. Don’t tell me you hang out with his friends, Pansy. I might not be able to speak to you again.”
Pansy shuddered. “Of course not. Blood is one thing, Hufflepuffs are another.” She took a seat in the back of the car. Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott wandered in soon after and took seats away from Draco and his gloomy air.
The train started off.
Another school year was over.
*
It was the end of year feast. The tables were full of empty plates and salivating, fidgeting students. The ceiling was a mass of stars and twilight shades. The head table was bursting with teachers. Draco’s belongings were all packed in his trunk, Potter and his little crew appeared safe, human, and smiling when they stepped into the dining hall, Draco’s father was finally out of prison, though Merlin knew where, and all was right with the world.
The headmaster stood up and cleared his throat.
Draco rolled his eyes at Pansy and tuned him out. He tuned back in when Potter’s name was mentioned.
“…and fifty points to Hermione Granger for her expert application of Wolfsbane, and fifty points to Ronald Weasley for his valor and courage in facing alone a field of Moving Mines.” The students clapped despite the Gryffindor counter rising even higher than it had been before. Slytherin was behind them by about one hundred points now, and behind Ravenclaw, the second highest, by thirty five points. Hufflepuff was last, but Draco didn’t care about them. He suspected no one else did, either.
“Why doesn’t he get on with it,” Pansy grumbled.
“I know,” Draco whispered back.
“And finally, fifty points to Draco Malfoy-”
“What?” Draco was floored. And very, very nervous. Please don’t say what I did, Draco pleaded with his eyes. Dumbledore looked right at him…and smiled. The dodgy old fart.
“-because it takes great strength of character to value the safety of one’s enemies over one’s reputation.”
And just like that, his reputation was shot. Again. Because of bloody Potter. Dammit to hell and back. Draco glared at Dumbledore for all he was worth. The headmaster’s eyes twinkled-or was that his specs?-and sat down.
Everyone waited.
Nothing happened.
“Oh!” The headmaster stood again. “Gryffindor wins the house cup!” Gryffindor cheered. Banners flowed from the ceiling, red and gold and adorned with the Gryffindor lion. Draco rolled his eyes. How many years could this go on?
The headmaster sat down again.
Everyone waited.
Nothing happened.
Dumbledore stood up again. “Let the feast begin!”
*
No one spoke to Draco during the meal, not even Blaise and Pansy, despite the surprise points bumping them into second place for the house cup. When he got back to the dormitory, Draco flopped back down onto his bed.
“It’s not so bad, I suppose,” Blaise said, closing the door behind him.
“Right. Why didn’t you answer me when I asked you to pass me the potatoes?”
“Because I didn’t want to be seen talking to you so soon after the announcement.”
Draco glared at him. “I hate you when you’re honest. You always say the most horrid things.”
Blaise rolled his eyes and started digging around in his trunk. “I promise to lie to you from now on, how’s that?”
“You’re lying.”
The door opened again and Pansy strolled in, now out of her school robes and in a black skirt and green blouse. “How do you like them? Todd gave them to me!”
Draco sat up and gave her a once over. “You look smashing. Who’s Todd?”
Pansy glared up at the ceiling, then turned her angry face to Draco. She looked like a harpy when she was angry, but Draco decided some things were better left unsaid. “Do you pay the least bit of attention to anything that’s not to do with you?”
“If you mean listen to rumors, then no, I don’t. Is Todd your low bo-boyfriend?” he amended hastily.
Pansy gave him a look that promised death. “I’ll overlook that. But yes, he is.” Suddenly she was smiling. She flounced over to Blaise’s bed and dove onto it, rolling once and settling on her stomach, feet absently kicking in the air and head resting on her hands. “I think I’m in love.”
Draco pouted. “I think I’m in hell. Do you realize no one’s going to speak to me until next year? You two won’t even speak to me in public anymore.”
“Relax, Draco, we’ll speak to you on the train. Won’t we, Blaise?”
“I plan to read, actually.” As if to prove it, he tossed a book from his trunk to the bed.
Draco craned his head and squinted. “Medieval Torture and You. You’re-”
“Nutters,” Pansy finished for him. She flipped open to a picture of a gauntlet and read the page. “I take it back, Blaise-let me read this when you’re finished.”
“I’ll owl it to you.”
Draco kicked off his shoes and sprawled dramatically on his bed with a sigh. Then he smiled. He would miss this.
*
The train was crowded with students hugging and saying farewells to people sitting in other cars. Draco simply loaded his trunk in a clear place and got on. It was ridiculous, the fanfare going on. He tried to ignore the pang in his chest that said he would have been one of those had it not been for Dumbledore. And Potter. Always Potter.
Draco waited for the familiar anger to well up, but it didn’t come. Instead, a different feeling, like nerves but not quite, welled up in his stomach. Draco’s shoulders drooped. “It really is starting then,” he said hopelessly.
He took a seat alone on the train and waited for his friends. He saw Granger’s head poke into his car and then duck back out, what might have been “thanks” trailing after her. Then Pansy came in and started acting lovelorn. “Todd’s in another car! And it’s full of…Hufflepuffs!”
Draco rolled his eyes. “He’s got horrible taste then-no offense. Don’t tell me you hang out with his friends, Pansy. I might not be able to speak to you again.”
Pansy shuddered. “Of course not. Blood is one thing, Hufflepuffs are another.” She took a seat in the back of the car. Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott wandered in soon after and took seats away from Draco and his gloomy air.
The train started off.
Another school year was over.