The war was over. Draco thought over that statement, and added the capital ‘W’. It really needed it. Not only had Voldemort been defeated por a teenager, but quite a few people, including Deatheaters, Order of the Pheonix people, and ‘innocent’ Muggles – although to hear Granger going on about it, even the muggles weren’t innocent. There was something called a nuc-le-are bomb to consider.
But the point was that the War was over, and a lot of people had died. True, the scourge of the wizarding world was gone, but so was half the wizarding population of Europe. Dumbledore had died, and that was the main reason for the current annoyance of Draco’s life. He had been replaced as headmaster por some plumped up pen pusher from the Ministry, and the school had been turned upside down – quite literally in some parts, dado the volatile nature of the building.
And quite a few people were in quite a lot of trouble. Refusing to be subservient to Voldemort had led a lot of students to act as spies for Dumbledore, Draco himself included. Unfortunately, there was no record of their achievements – and with Dumbledore dead, the only person they had to vouch for them was Snape. It was the newly reformed, and still quite gullible, Ministry versus a former Deatheater that still bore the Mark. No contest.
Out of the select group that had made up his friends in Slytherin, Greg had died defending Padma Patil from a Deatheater attack, Pansy was imprisoned in Azkaban already and Marcus Flint was in hiding, even though there were quite a few witnesses to him saving twenty muggle lives. Blaise Zabini, Tracey Davis and himself were sat in the Great Hall, under guard and waiting to be taken up to the headmaster’s office.
The pureblood sighed. And then sighed again just for giggles. At the very least it annoyed the Aurors that were guarding them, and that was not something to be taken for granted. Draco grinned to himself, and sighed for a third time.
“Will tu shut up.” Blaise growled.
“Make me.” The head-boy of the school turned to him.
“Shut. Up.”
“Make. Me.” Draco imitated. Blaise’s eyes narrowed, and he lunged off his chair, knocking Draco off his in turn. The Aurors just stood there, openly snickering. Tracey rolled his eyes. Of course they weren’t going to do anything. Fidgiwidgit had never dicho how many pieces they had to be delivered to his office in.
“Will tu two pull yourselves together?” He got no reaction. Glancing carefully at the guards, he slipped off his chair, stalked over to the two students rolling about on the floor, and stood looking down at them. “Stop it.” Tracey was – again – ignored, and he hesitated for a moment before reaching down to try to separate them manually.
Instead, and with a girly shriek – which he would, of course, deny afterwards – a flailing leg knocked him down and into the pile.
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” Four people pushed past the Aurors, wands drawn. Within seconds, the three Slytherins were separated, lying bound on the stone floor and looking up at their interrupters. Harry Potter looked extremely grave.
“How exactly do tu think this is going to help you?” There was a moment of silence, before Harry flushed and waved his wand, muttering a counterspell.
“By working off some of our tension?” Blaise offered weakly.
“How do tu expect to convince Fidgiwidgit that tu were helping us if you’re actuación like this?” Hermione asked, kneeling beside Tracey and healing a división, split lip Draco had dado him.
“Look, we know he’s going to expel us – what más can he do?” Draco shrugged. “He’s already been banned from giving us an Azkaban sentence. The most we’re getting is expulsion from the wizarding world – from this school and from everything we know.” Pain filled his grey eyes. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“You could at least try.” Ginny said, frowning slightly.
“There’s no point, luv.” Tracey told her. “We’re out of here. No one in the school wants us here, the Aurors certainly don’t want to be guarding us from our extremely hostile fellow wizards and witches, and our own families have either disowned us for our roles in the war, o are dead.” He stood, and gathered the youngest Weasley into a hug.
“It’s not fair.” Harry dicho suddenly.
“Why, Potter, I didn’t know tu cared.” Draco smirked.
“I don’t, I just don’t like seeing injustice.” Harry said, offering a hand to pull the other boy up as Ron pulled Blaise to his feet.
“So go and do something about it.” Blaise told him, but everyone knew that even Harry Potter, the saviour of the wizarding world, was completely unable to help.
The Great Hall doors smashed open, and Minerva McGonagall stepped in, flanked por a couple of Aurors.
“Mr Malfoy, Headmaster Fidgiwidgit will see tu now.” Some of the Aurors that were supposed to be guarding them moved forward, pulling Draco away from the little group.
“No! tu dicho we’d be judged together.” Blaise shouted, snatching at Draco’s robes and holding on.
“I’m sorry.” The Transfigurations Professor dicho quietly, and Draco was hauled off, kicking and punching the people restraining him. They all knew that they had no chance of a reprieve, and were determined to go down fighting.
Ron was holding Blaise back as the head-boy tried to get to his best friend, and Harry was between them and the rest of the Aurors, wand out and pointed at them. Hermione and Ginny were clinging to Tracey, having struck up a strange sort of friendship with the Slytherin over the last year. It seemed even the most order-abiding Auror had a problem with facing up to the four recognised heroes of the War, and backed away into their original circulo, círculo surrounding the smaller group.
“We don’t deserve this.” Tracey whispered brokenly as they lost sight of Draco.
“No.” Ron agreed. He glanced over at Harry, who nodded. “Let’s get tu out of here.” He muttered to Blaise. The Slytherin looked up, shocked. Ron winked, and Blaise’s eyes widened. He went limp in the bigger boy’s arms, and Ron laid him down on the floor.
At a nod from Harry, Hermione pushed Tracey to the ground, and both girls started hurling stunning hexes around, knocking out Aurors with the cold precision they had gained in the War.
But the point was that the War was over, and a lot of people had died. True, the scourge of the wizarding world was gone, but so was half the wizarding population of Europe. Dumbledore had died, and that was the main reason for the current annoyance of Draco’s life. He had been replaced as headmaster por some plumped up pen pusher from the Ministry, and the school had been turned upside down – quite literally in some parts, dado the volatile nature of the building.
And quite a few people were in quite a lot of trouble. Refusing to be subservient to Voldemort had led a lot of students to act as spies for Dumbledore, Draco himself included. Unfortunately, there was no record of their achievements – and with Dumbledore dead, the only person they had to vouch for them was Snape. It was the newly reformed, and still quite gullible, Ministry versus a former Deatheater that still bore the Mark. No contest.
Out of the select group that had made up his friends in Slytherin, Greg had died defending Padma Patil from a Deatheater attack, Pansy was imprisoned in Azkaban already and Marcus Flint was in hiding, even though there were quite a few witnesses to him saving twenty muggle lives. Blaise Zabini, Tracey Davis and himself were sat in the Great Hall, under guard and waiting to be taken up to the headmaster’s office.
The pureblood sighed. And then sighed again just for giggles. At the very least it annoyed the Aurors that were guarding them, and that was not something to be taken for granted. Draco grinned to himself, and sighed for a third time.
“Will tu shut up.” Blaise growled.
“Make me.” The head-boy of the school turned to him.
“Shut. Up.”
“Make. Me.” Draco imitated. Blaise’s eyes narrowed, and he lunged off his chair, knocking Draco off his in turn. The Aurors just stood there, openly snickering. Tracey rolled his eyes. Of course they weren’t going to do anything. Fidgiwidgit had never dicho how many pieces they had to be delivered to his office in.
“Will tu two pull yourselves together?” He got no reaction. Glancing carefully at the guards, he slipped off his chair, stalked over to the two students rolling about on the floor, and stood looking down at them. “Stop it.” Tracey was – again – ignored, and he hesitated for a moment before reaching down to try to separate them manually.
Instead, and with a girly shriek – which he would, of course, deny afterwards – a flailing leg knocked him down and into the pile.
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” Four people pushed past the Aurors, wands drawn. Within seconds, the three Slytherins were separated, lying bound on the stone floor and looking up at their interrupters. Harry Potter looked extremely grave.
“How exactly do tu think this is going to help you?” There was a moment of silence, before Harry flushed and waved his wand, muttering a counterspell.
“By working off some of our tension?” Blaise offered weakly.
“How do tu expect to convince Fidgiwidgit that tu were helping us if you’re actuación like this?” Hermione asked, kneeling beside Tracey and healing a división, split lip Draco had dado him.
“Look, we know he’s going to expel us – what más can he do?” Draco shrugged. “He’s already been banned from giving us an Azkaban sentence. The most we’re getting is expulsion from the wizarding world – from this school and from everything we know.” Pain filled his grey eyes. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“You could at least try.” Ginny said, frowning slightly.
“There’s no point, luv.” Tracey told her. “We’re out of here. No one in the school wants us here, the Aurors certainly don’t want to be guarding us from our extremely hostile fellow wizards and witches, and our own families have either disowned us for our roles in the war, o are dead.” He stood, and gathered the youngest Weasley into a hug.
“It’s not fair.” Harry dicho suddenly.
“Why, Potter, I didn’t know tu cared.” Draco smirked.
“I don’t, I just don’t like seeing injustice.” Harry said, offering a hand to pull the other boy up as Ron pulled Blaise to his feet.
“So go and do something about it.” Blaise told him, but everyone knew that even Harry Potter, the saviour of the wizarding world, was completely unable to help.
The Great Hall doors smashed open, and Minerva McGonagall stepped in, flanked por a couple of Aurors.
“Mr Malfoy, Headmaster Fidgiwidgit will see tu now.” Some of the Aurors that were supposed to be guarding them moved forward, pulling Draco away from the little group.
“No! tu dicho we’d be judged together.” Blaise shouted, snatching at Draco’s robes and holding on.
“I’m sorry.” The Transfigurations Professor dicho quietly, and Draco was hauled off, kicking and punching the people restraining him. They all knew that they had no chance of a reprieve, and were determined to go down fighting.
Ron was holding Blaise back as the head-boy tried to get to his best friend, and Harry was between them and the rest of the Aurors, wand out and pointed at them. Hermione and Ginny were clinging to Tracey, having struck up a strange sort of friendship with the Slytherin over the last year. It seemed even the most order-abiding Auror had a problem with facing up to the four recognised heroes of the War, and backed away into their original circulo, círculo surrounding the smaller group.
“We don’t deserve this.” Tracey whispered brokenly as they lost sight of Draco.
“No.” Ron agreed. He glanced over at Harry, who nodded. “Let’s get tu out of here.” He muttered to Blaise. The Slytherin looked up, shocked. Ron winked, and Blaise’s eyes widened. He went limp in the bigger boy’s arms, and Ron laid him down on the floor.
At a nod from Harry, Hermione pushed Tracey to the ground, and both girls started hurling stunning hexes around, knocking out Aurors with the cold precision they had gained in the War.