Potter for President! And Draco as Vice...

***

Draco sat in Advanced Potions three days later, extremely pleased with himself. The Dark Lord had acquiesced to his request, and it would only be a matter of a few more hours before everything was ready.

Draco casually glanced over at Harry, who was sitting at the other side of the room, and wrinkled his nose in disgust. He just couldn't comprehend how Harry could wear the same exact attire as everyone else in the whole bloody school, and still manage to look like an abomination to the fashion industry. Not to mention the hair. Draco instinctively reached his hand up to his own hair, just to make sure it was still perfectly slicked back, like always. He reviled how Harry sported his five-year-old, I-cut-my-own-hair-with-a-weedwhacker look. After seven long years at Hogwarts, he still had yet to grow out of it. Draco couldn't wait until he could debase Harry in front of the entire school, messy hair-do and all.

"Hi, Draco," cooed Pansy Parkinson, as she sidled up next to him. "A Sickle for your thoughts." She batted her eyelashes at Draco, waiting for his reply.

Damn

, Draco thought, was I looking thoughtful again? I've got to stop doing that. "Well, Pansy," he said aloud, "I was just pondering the myriad of ways in which Potter will suffer once I-"

"Let me guess," Pansy cut in. "Once you reveal your cunningly brilliant, yet dastardly evil, plans that will ultimately humiliate and destroy Potter?"

"Actually, yes."

"Honestly, Draco, you should get a new story. You're really becoming quite predictable," said Pansy dryly.

Draco shrugged, then turned to face the front of the classroom. Snape had just entered through the dungeon door in a swish of robes, announced by the sudden deathly silence that had fallen among the students.

"Draco," started Snape, wasting absolutely no time in silly greetings or preparation, "I would like you to name the potion, and its effects, that will identify the moment when its drinker verbally lies"

Draco froze for a moment. He had been so caught up with his current plotting against Harry that he had not studied his Potions assignment the previous night. He cleared his throat, "Professor Snape, sir, though I would gladly give you the answer, I think that Potter would really like to answer this question..." Draco held his breath, hoping it would work.

"Very well then," said Snape, turning to Harry with a malicious smile forming at the corners of his mouth. "Potter, you heard the question."

Harry flushed as the entire classroom went silent, waiting for him to answer. "Er... could you repeat it once more?"

Draco shook silently with laughter. He loved seeing Harry being tormented by Snape.

Snape scowled. "Five points from Gryffindor for not listening. However, I still want you to answer, so I will repeat my question one more time out of undeserved generosity. What potion would you use to identify when a person is lying?"

"Er..." repeated Harry, "Veritaserum?"

"No, Potter," snapped Snape. "Veritaserum is a truth-inducing potion - a person cannot lie while under its effects. Ten points from Gryffindor. The potion I want to you to identify will allow its drinker to lie, but will change some physical aspect of the person's appearance as an indicator if they were to do so. Now, say Mr. Malfoy here was administered this potion, how would you be able to know if he is lying?" Snape continued to glare at Harry expectantly.

"You check to see if his lips are moving," grumbled Harry.

"Wrong again, Potter. That will be another ten points from Gryffindor, as well as twenty more points for giving cheek. It seems you are not as fit for my N.E.W.T. Potions class as the Headmaster so adamantly insisted," remarked Snape coldly.

Draco was delighted to see Harry's face turning a brighter shade of red. Whether it was from humiliation or anger, he didn't care.

"Professor Snape, sir," said Hermione tentatively, seated next to Harry. She was met with Snape's icy glare, but boldly continued on. "You would use the Falisethoria potion, or more commonly known as Thieves potion owing to its manner of use in the late 1600s. When a person lies while under the effects of this potion their face will turn a deep shade of purple-"

"That is enough, Granger!" shouted Snape, and Hermione was immediately silenced. "Thirty points from Gryffindor for talking out of turn."

Draco left Potions that day very content with himself. So pleased, in fact, that he decided he would skip Advanced Transfiguration with McGonagall, which he always had immediately following Potions. Draco didn't feel the need to be stuck in another classroom with Harry - he wanted his current memory of him to last as long a possible. Instead, he wiled away the time by teasing the owls in the Owlery and charming random steps in the staircases to be extra-slippery.

Draco was sauntering down the stone steps that led to the Entrance Hall when he noticed two burly wizards bringing in a very large package through the main doors. It was an odd shape, tall and relatively thin, and was wrapped in a heavy brown cloth. "Perfect," said Draco to himself. "It's finally here." He jumped down the remaining steps to greet the wizards.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," said the larger of the two. He had a deep voice that almost sounded like a growl, and his face was shadowed by his traveling cloak. "Here's what you've been waiting for. Sent straight from-" The wizard glanced around furtively, then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "-the Dark Lord himself."

"Excellent," replied Draco, slipping a satchel of Galleons into both wizards' hands. He noticed the second wizard looking curiously at the large package, reaching a hand out to lift a corner of the cloth that covered it. "Thank you, that is all," said Draco imperiously, and was pleased to see the man's hand freeze, then recoil.

"The second will be along shortly. Say hello to your father for me," the first wizard said with a wink. Then he and his companion both turned and exited through the way which they had arrived.

Draco turned and looked admiringly at the covered object. "Potter will wish he never entered the election," he said aloud, an evil grin playing at his lips.

"And why is that?"

Draco twisted around to see who had spoken. It was Hermione Granger. "What's it to you, Mudblood?" he sneered. "And aren't you still supposed to be in Transfiguration?"

"Well, seeing as McGonagall let class out early, no. Though I noticed you didn't grace us with your presence today."

Draco smiled sarcastically, then looked up and saw the entire remaining Transfiguration class descending the stairs, which included Harry.

"Come now, Malfoy, what is that package you're hiding?" said Hermione, now with Harry and Ron on either side of her.

"Well," started Draco loudly, making sure that he had the attention of every passing student, "I suppose now is as good a time as any to reveal it." Without further ado, Draco dramatically whipped off the brown cloak that had covered the object, prompting a collective gasp from his audience.

What had been revealed was a larger-than-life-sized marble statue of himself. Nude. Well, save for a single maple leaf that had been strategically placed.

"M-Malfoy!" spluttered Ron. "You're naked!"

Draco looked down at himself. "Really, Weasley? It appears to me that I'm fully clothed..."

"Don't be daft, Malfoy!" interrupted Hermione impatiently, "That statue! Of you!"

"Ah yes, the statue. Quite a beauty, isn't it?" Draco noted with pleasure that many of the girls were now observing it interestedly. The statue, reminiscent of the Statue of David, had been bewitched to smile and wink at passerby, as well as occasionally make rude gestures whenever it caught sight of Harry. "Hand-crafted by none other than the Dark Lord himself," stated Draco importantly.

"Voldemort? Voldemort did this?!" cried Harry in disbelief.

"Why yes, yes he did, Potter. The Dark Lord really is quite the refined sculptor, wouldn't you agree? Notice how smoothly the cheeks have been chiseled-"

"Oh we're noticing alright," giggled Parvati from behind the statue.

"Malfoy, put the cloth back on right now! It isn't proper to be seen in a school!" demanded Hermione, much to the disappointment of a group of Ravenclaw girls standing nearby, who began throwing dirty looks at her.

"Why isn't it proper? It is an asset to my campaign for the election."

"How does a nude statue of yourself have anything to do with your campaign?" asked Hermione incredulously.

Right on cue, two more wizards, dressed like the previous two that had come bearing the statue, entered through the main doors. They came with a second package, similar to the first except that it was shorter in height.

"Here, Granger, is the answer to that question," said Draco, handing the wizards two more satchels of Galleons. "You see, my aim was to fairly represent the main candidates, Harry and myself, in a way that we could easily be compared and judged by the student body." With that, Draco revealed the second statue.

It was a marble statue of what was obviously supposed to be Harry, carved in the same general style as the first, but was at least a head shorter than Draco's statue. Another difference was that this statue was wearing a full set of rumpled robes, not to mention huge, round glasses that had been plastered onto its face. Its sculpted hair stood in all directions, and was much messier than in person. This statue had been bewitched for movement as well, but all it did was stare blankly at the wall, once in a while giving a foolish grin or an equally foolish scowl.

"That's supposed to be me? You had one made of me?" cried Harry. Then he added defensively, "I'm not that much shorter than you! We're practically the same height!"

Draco shrugged. His evil and cunning plan was working perfectly.

"Malfoy, why does it look like someone took a chisel and hammer to Harry's forehead, then tried to spilt his head in half?" asked Ron, gazing at the statue curiously.

Indeed, Harry's statue did bear a large, jagged gash in the marble stone, right in the middle of its forehead.

Draco looked up thoughtfully at the statue's head, acting as if he were appraising art in a museum. "Well, many artists do like to express themselves through their artwork. Besides, it does look rather realistic if you ask me." Draco glanced sideways at Harry's head, then back at the statue.

"You mean, that's supposed to be my scar?" said Harry indignantly.

"What else would it be? Although it could also make for a very practical knife holder..."

"Mr. Malfoy!" It was Professor McGonagall. She was coming down the staircase, a scandalized look plastered across her stern features. "What is the meaning of this? Explain yourself at once."

Draco scowled, but knew better than to argue with a professor, especially McGonagall. He gave her the same explanation as he had given Hermione, since it was the truth after all.

"I will not allow this indecent statue to remain in the Entrance Hall of our school! I want it immediately removed to my office," said McGonagall, then instantly blanched for a moment after realizing the connotation of what she had said. Many of the watching students sniggered silently. "I mean, I will have the Headmaster down to remove it!" She gave one last flustered look at Draco and the surrounding crowd, then marched off through an adjacent hall.

"Malfoy!"

"Again, Potter? What is it?" Draco noticed with satisfaction that Harry seemed rather furious.

"You have no right to have a statue of me here!" he said angrily.

"Oh yes, I do. As your opponent, I am entitled to alert the voting public of your many vices. They have a right to know." Draco defiantly glared back at Harry, a smug look of triumph in his eyes.

"People don't judge leadership skills on their appearance!"

"They don't?" said Draco, in mock surprise.

"No," continued Harry edgily, "they're smarter than that. They look for the things that count, and when it comes to doing things that actually mean something, I've done more in the past seven years than you have in your entire life!"

"Potter, you are so boring. You've 'defeated' the Dark Lord, what? Five times? And yet he's still running around, wreaking havoc in the sculpting industry and what not. Honestly, if someone wrote a book about your life, absolutely no one would want to read it." Draco gave one more disgusted look at Harry, turned with a dramatic swish of his robes, and stalked off down the corridor.

***