A Camp Story

From the Author: *I've modified one of my favourite quotes from Wuthering Heights.

"Welcome to Camp Medea, counselors!" a tall, balding wizard declared exuberantly as he glanced about the roomful of witches and wizards ranging from sixteen to nineteen years of age.

"As you may know, I'm Jack Johnston and I'm the camp supervisor. If there's any trouble that you can't handle, you come to me. Kaleigh Sinclair is the other camp supervisor, but she had some...business to take care of. She'll probably be back in a few days and until then, you're stuck with me!" Jack laughed jovially and some joined along, forcing a few fake chuckles. "I see some familiar faces," he continued, "and some new faces. I'm sure that all of you are highly qualified and intelligent young witches and wizards and you will do a superb job. The children will be arriving in a ten days and until then, we'll be getting to know each other and prepare for their arrival."

"Now, I'll tell you guys the basic rules and procedures, in case the oldies forgot and to inform the newbies. Most of it you'll probably remember from the information booklet we sent to you when we hired..." As he droned on, a startlingly silver-blonde haired boy glanced about the room with such lazy insolence, you would've thought he owned the camp and everyone there were his minions. But then again, it was easy how he had acquired that attitude. Like most of the people in the room, he exuded wealth and power through every orifice of his body. And what a body at that! It wouldn't have been a stretch to say that he was the best looking male specimen at the camp. Currently he was sitting alone in a loveseat with his long legs stretched out in front of him, being very inconsiderate and taking up a lot of room as it was a bit crowded. He had on the same clothes as every other boy: A loose, thin cotton robe of dark maroon. Taking in the fact the average temperature during the time the camp operated was 38 degrees Celsius; it made sense that all their robes didn't have collars and ended half a foot above the ankles. If it were formal robes, everyone would've died of dehydration and sunstroke. But despite (or maybe because) of the casualness of the robes, he looked stunning. His ankles and part of his legs were lean and well muscled, not too muscled like some of the other boys or too skinny like the others, no, he was perfect. He probably knew that all girls (and a few boys) were throwing lusty stares at him out of the corner of their eyes. He probably didn't care and if he did, it was only an expected thing for him, being lusted after like this.

His neck was long and graceful, almost feminine in its perfection. And on top of his neck, the best part (thought the girls) was his face. You could almost hear the swooning sighs as girls in the room dared a glance at it. He had chiseled cheekbones, but not jagged, a long straight nose that wasn't too long or too tall, a mouth that looked like it would leer at you and kiss you stupid at the same time, two blonde arched eyebrows that were good to the point you'd think he plucked them (but deep down inside you knew he didn't because he didn't give a damn about what you might think of his eyebrows), and just below that....the best of the best, his eyes...they were framed by long blonde lashes that you could barely see because they were so light. All in all, he had the looks that young British royalty have, thousands of years of exquisite breeding. He looked like he enjoyed playing polo for a charity event in his spare time if he wasn't vacationing at his country estate. He looked like the more attractive brother of Adonis and had the lean, runner's body of Hermes. Basically, he was a god.

"So Draco, why don't you introduce yourself first? Your full name, school if you're still attending school, your experience at Camp Medea, hobbies, what you hope to learn from working here, and anything else you would like to mention about yourself," Jack said eagerly, looking at the blonde boy.

You could almost hear the air renting as every girl in the room whipped their heads around at breakneck speed in the direction of the boy. Now, they had a reason to stare. Without missing a beat, though it was apparent that he wasn't paying any attention at all to anything Jack had said, the boy began speaking.

"Well, Jack," he said, emphasizing "Jack" with a tinge of derision, "you ruined some of the surprise and gave out part of my name. But my full name is Draco Malfoy. I attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry back in England. This is my first year working as a counselor. I enjoy quidditch and I am the seeker of my house team, Slytherin, and I hope to learn how to earn money from working here," he concluded, curling his lips a little in what you could call a smile, but it looked like he was in on an inside joke that excluded everyone in the room. Jack laughed forcefully as if he got the joke and you could almost hear the purring from the girls as hormones raged along with the temperature outside.

"Ok, that's very good, Draco!" Jack praised. "But this isn't your first year here at Medea, is it?" he asked. Draco just looked at him. "Yes..." Jack continued awkwardly, "Draco has spent quite a few summers at Medea, right Draco?"

There was a pause as Draco didn't say anything and it seemed like he was building up to a climax and everyone was his rapt audience, which they basically were. "Yes, you're right Jack. I've been a happy camper at Medea from age six to nine. I know where all the skeletons are." And at that, he flashed a dark smile that showed his blinding white teeth.

There was a thump and some screaming as one of the girls fell to the floor. It was pudgy Luba Zloyova, a counselor who hailed from Moscow.

"It's alright, it's alright. It must be the heat," Jack said pushing into the ring of girls surrounding poor Luba.

A slim brown-haired girl mumbled something in Russian to a boy nearby while she started slapping Luba's fleshy cheeks.

"She has asthma," the boy told Jack. "Perhaps she forgot her inhaler."

"Inhaler? What is that? Some type of drug?" Jack asked sharply.

"It's a Muggle thing," the girl explained. Everyone gasped at the same time and the girl quickly went on to explain, "No, no, Luba doesn't use Muggle things! No, not at all. She takes a potion every month, but she has attacks sometimes when she gets...um...excited," the girl said diplomatically. Several heads swiveled to look accusingly at Draco who hadn't even bothered to get out the loveseat.

"There's a spell that you can do, but I don't know it. It's the Respiro spell; it's very difficult."

"Someone go get the mediwitch!" Jack screamed in a high-pitched voice. The Russian boy stood up and ran out of the room. Some girls turned around to look at him as he dashed out, hm...nice legs, they thought.

"There isn't enough time! She's having trouble breathing right now and she might die any moment. Does anyone know it?" she asked desperately for the sake of her friend.

Some people shook their heads while others murmured "no".

"I know it," a girl declared.

More head whipping ensued (all this head whipping will probably result in a serious case of sore necks tomorrow) as everyone in the room traced the source of the voice to a girl walking towards them from the doorway.

"Sorry, I'm late Jack," she said shyly to Jack as the crowd parted a path for her to reach Luba. "I missed the damn portkey. I only found out it was a newspaper. I mean, please, a newspaper in London, how the heck was I supposed to guess it was a portkey?!" She said in agitation as she knelt down by the girl.

"It's okay, forget about the portkey! Just wake her up before she dies and we have to explain to the Zloyovas that their only daughter died of excitement!" Jack while wringing his hands, a perfect portrait of a deeply worried and scared middle-aged man.

The newcomer held up her wand and touched the tip to Luba's throat. She moved the tip a bit, as if trying to find a spot, and then closed her eyes. "RESPIRO!" she shouted as a few people jumped out of surprise that such a small girl could have such a loud voice.

Nothing happened and everyone leaned in towards Luba.

"It didn't work, stupid girl!" Luba's friend said angrily to the newcomer. And then...

"Wha.....?" Luba moaned while attempting to open her eyes. "Mila?" she murmured while trying to focus her gaze.

"Oh my god, you're okay, you're okay!" Mila said while she leaned down to envelope Luba in her arms and erupted in some gasping sobs.

Jack released a giant sigh of relief and realized that he hadn't been breathing for the past thirty seconds.

"Great job, Cho," he said with an exhausted voice while he shakily stood up. He laid a hand on the shoulder of Cho, the newcomer, as he wobbled a bit. He might have been using her for support, but we'll call it a pat on the shoulder. "Lived up to Camp Medea standards. Yes, you'll get a raise. Very good," he continued in an unsteady voice, probably unaware of what he was saying.

People started backing away from Luba and Mila and finally started paying more attention to the new girl, Cho, who was glowing with success and the prospect of a raise.

"Thanks, Jack. Lucky I took that first-aid course before I came here, eh?" she said with a huge grin.

Some girls were eyeing her with undisguised jealousy and animosity while the boys were gawking at her with undisguised desire and admiration.

During all this evaluation, this is what the girls took in: A teenage Chinese girl with long black hair that was put up in a boring bun, with no makeup or jewelry on and, on top of that, was also probably the shortest person in the whole room. She was also a show-off who drank in attention like oxygen, and needed it as much.

This is what the boys took in: A beautiful girl with shining dark eyes, long, sleekly black hair put up in a charming and simple bun, and who was so pretty that she didn't need anything else to aid her looks. As well, she was really smart, probably smarter than anyone else in the room was, including me. At this thought, the boys sobered up a little and looked her with some disappointment, as if looking at a toy they badly wanted but couldn't afford. Well, she probably isn't that great anyway, so what if she knew the spell? I bet it wasn't that hard, they thought. If they couldn't have it, it wasn't worth having, right? Sigh...boys...

"What's the problem here? Someone needing a Respiro Spell?" a short and stout woman gasped out while bustling in. It was apparent that she had hurried here as best as she could, which was not that fast. She clutched her chest and took in big breaths. "Well, who is it?" she asked sharply.

"Oh, don't worry about it Matilda!" Jack said, finally regaining some strength and calm and standing on his own now.

"Oh for goodness sake! Why drag me all the way here in this boiling heat with crazed shouts of someone needing the Respiro Spell, then?" Matilda said in irritation.

"We did need it, Matilda, but Cho has taken care of it! Brilliant girl!" Jack said while gesturing towards Cho, who blushed prettily.

"Well of course she is, Jack. But if she could've taken care of it, why on earth do you send Boris to get me?" Matilda asked, less irritated, but still unwilling to let Jack off so quickly without some squirming.

"She wasn't here, she came late and Boris had already left when you came so--" Jack was interrupted as they heard a loud whirring sound in the distance. Some confusion followed as people gathered by the windows to see what was the source.

"Omigod!" A redhead squealed while pointing up in the sky. Soon, everyone saw the source of the whirring sound.

A bright red convertible was speeding down from the sky in a bright halo of glory. Breaks squealed as people gasped when the convertible landed. And like a bunch of N'sync fans, they pushed out of the door to see who the car belonged to.

Well, most of the oldies knew who it probably was, but they still wanted to make sure. Jack and Matilda followed as well; it was a beautiful car. At this time Luba had regained her senses and was being helped out the door by Mila. Only Cho stayed behind.

She looked out the window a bit as some ooohing and ahhhing broke out as the car slowed to a stop on the ground. She knew, like the rest of the oldies, who it was. Cho plopped down a sofa in dejection and sighed heavily, "Belinda Sangupuro" she whispered.

"Hello Cho Chang, didn't think to see you here," a voice said, almost humming with sexual prowess.

Cho jumped out of her seat as she glanced at Draco sitting in his loveseat. "Bloody hell, Malfoy! Next time inform someone you're in the room before scaring the shit out of them, you prat!" Cho said furiously.

"That's what I was doing, lurve. Before you went on with a verbose and self-pitying speech about Belinda, whom, I must say, you don't seem very eager to see," Draco said while his voice and eyes twinkled with laughter.

"That's not true! I do li--" she was cut off as a boy outside suddenly cried out: "Belinda, I'm very rich and I want to get married!" She looked at Draco in the eyes and both burst out laughing. They had almost stopped when a girl cried out, "Armand, no! Get off the floor, you idiot! NO! Stop kissing her feet! I'm your girlfriend!" and as another boy cried out "I love you, Belinda! I am a Scelesta! I will inherit everything!"

By the time the finished laughing, both of them had sore tummies and tears running down their face.

"Half-veela," both concluded in unison.

"So you know Belinda?" Cho asked after both smiled at one another.

"Know her? My god, the times we played "Healer" at one another's houses is still too large a number to be counted! But I have to admit, even at a young age, Belinda was very adept with the male anatomy," Draco said wickedly.

"No way! Well, you do look well-chuffed, I must say. So how come you're not falling at her feet right now like poor Armand?" Cho asked, jerking her thumb in the general direction of Armand.

"Quarter-veela, I'm immune to her power."

"Ahh....quarter, wouldn't you still be in her power since she's more veela than you?" Cho said, latching onto the key word.

"Well, immunity accumulates with time and experience, I'm more or less immune now because she isn't a full veela herself," Draco said defensively.

"So you are part veela, that explains why you're so a--um...a blonde, so a blonde," Cho finished lamely as she caught herself before making a faux pas.

"Yes, that's why I'm so a blonde," Draco said, eyeing Cho who was now sitting Indian style on the floor after having to sit down during the laugh-fest.

"So was one of your grandmothers was a veela?" Cho asked in hopes to divert Draco's attention from what she didn't say. The intimate atmosphere they had just shared was now quickly disintegrating.

"Both of my grandmothers were veela," Draco said loftily.

"Well...if both your grandmothers were veela, then that would mean both of your parents were half-veela, so you couldn't possibly be just a quarter veela," Cho said slowly, reasoning it out.

"Well, half times half is a quarter isn't it?" Draco shot back. Malfoys were never wrong.

"Well, then you'd be a quarter non-veela too! So where does the other half go? Are you half nothing, then?" She aimed, she scored! GOOOOOAAAAAAAALLLLLL!!!

"So what are you saying? I'm half-veela too?"

"Well, you have to be, it's the only logical answer," Cho said while shrugging her shoulders with an air of finality.

"That just doesn't make sense," Draco said, not willing to let go. He wasn't going to lose an argument about himself to a goddamn Ravenclaw! He had morals too! "Because unlike Belinda, whose mother is pure veela and only her father is not, I have two people in my blood who aren't. Both of my grandfathers. Therefore, my veela content has to be more diluted than hers," he concluded and smiled conceitedly. Ha ha ha ha! Let's see her rationalize that.

"Well, it makes total sense! Because Belinda has more than one person in her family who is non-veela, her entire family on her father's side, two grandparents. Just like you. So, it balances in the end," Cho said with some impatience in her tone. Draco's milky-white face turned a dark shade of gray.

How dare she be impatient with a Malfoy? "Listen here, Chang, I think I would know my own bloodline much better than you. Okay?" he asked with feigned patience as if talking to a prattling infant. I'm right! I'm soooo right! She's just a know-it-all fanny. God, at least she's not a mudblood, Draco thought trying to console his wounded ego.

"Fine, it's your blood, so you're just less attractive than Belinda. I don't care; I would have thought you would have enjoyed knowing you were half-veela. More glory to yourself, eh? Maybe not..." Cho muttered while rolling her eyes and pushing herself off the floor.

Draco almost burst his little blonde head with pure fury alone. Even if he won, he lost! No wonder the sorting hat put her in Ravenclaw! She was starting to irritate him more than the Holy Trio. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question, what are you doing here?" Draco asked slyly, doing a 180 with the conversation so it was in his favor now. No matter what, he couldn't lose on this track.

"I didn't know you asked a question," Cho replied, more on guard now, while brushing her robes to get any dust and wrinkles out. "I had hoped it was obvious, but I work here," she said, pointing to the insignia (a woman with the golden fleece in her hands) on her the left breast of her light gray robes.

"You're a pureblood," Draco asked incredulously while his eyes opened so wide that Cho feared the expression would freeze on his face.

"Yes, Malfoy, imagine that. I'm a pureblood," Cho retorted sarcastically. Nice eyes, mmmmm......Oh shit, he is half-veela! Must reign in hormones, must reign in hormones, Cho chanted inside her head, remember the Harry incident, remember the Harry incident.

"No, I just meant that I've never seen you around at my mother's parties. And you know, there are so few purebloods left," Draco quickly explained, blushing a little. My oh my, a Malfoy can blush? What next? They enjoy cuddly little animals and walks in the park?

"I would think not, I'm a pureblood but not a filthy rich pureblood. Besides, pureblood families are pretty rare in Europe, but there's quite a few of us in Asia, we just keep to ourselves. And I work here because I need the cash, not because my daddy thought it would be a good way to spread the word of the Dark Lord," Cho said maliciously.

"Hey! Don't get so worked up, I was just beginning to fancy you," Draco said lightly as Cho rolled her eyes again. "Besides," he added, "I don't think I need to spread the word of the Dark Lord here. In case you haven't noticed, but all these kids here already seem well-associated with the word of the Dark Lord," Draco said pointedly.

Cho shrugged, she couldn't argue with that because it was true. Camp Medea had a reputation for purebloods. A pureblood staff and pureblood campers. And all the campers were filthy rich as well, their parents were at least, or else there was no way in a cold, cold hell a regular pureblood would've afforded to attend Camp Medea. And most of the pureblood staff were former Medeans, so all in all, a filthy rich pureblood...hm...Camp Medea was a summer resort for future followers of the Dark Lord and already registered followers. Of course, in order to get the Ministry off their back, they always hired a regular pureblood, part charity case and part diversion tactic. Cho was their answer last summer and this summer. She was a pureblood, but not filthy rich or from a family of Death Eaters. However, she wasn't poor by normal standards (there was only so much Camp Medea could tolerate) and did have an excellent record that many other counselors did not (probably 'cuz their parents paid for them to work at Medea). Excellent marks, outgoing, a plate full of social events, and a poster child of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's pureblood campaign. Even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named approved of her. He had to personally approve the staff and campers because he owned a chunk of the camp. However, for the 14 or so years he was "in retirement", a board of directors carried on that task fairly well.

"Well, what can I say? Not every summer job is located on a cushy little island in the Mediterranean Sea right between southern France and northern Italy. And not every summer job has a coastline of dazzling white and fine as powdered sugar sand with the sky colored sea right beyond it. And definitely not every job pays three hundred and fifty galleons for two months of work that doesn't even qualify as work by many people's standards. So I'm sorry if the Dark Side won me over, but I'm sure Dumbledore would understand. Nonetheless, don't expect to see me at the next Death Eaters barbecue your parents host," Cho responded candidly to Draco's insinuation.

Draco blushed more, now it had spread from his ears to his cheeks too. "I didn't mean that," he said hurriedly, though both of them knew he did mean that. "I was just curious that you would be here, you know...you don't exactly seem to fit in with this crowd," Draco finished honestly.

"Well, I was here last summer too and I seemed to fit in fine. But I've never seen you here. I think I should've been the curious one, but strangely enough, I'm not," Cho said bluntly and turned around, about to leave the room.

"Hey!" Draco called out. Cho froze mid-stride and so did Draco. Holy crap, did I just do that? Did I just call her back? Do I want her attention? Draco asked himself apprehensively. Bollocks! I must wanna snog this girl really bad or something. Reign in your hormones, reign in your hormones! Remember the Pansy incident, remember the Pansy incident, Draco chanted.

"Yah?" Cho said turning back casually.

"Um...I just wanted to say..." Mother of God, what did I want to say? WHAT?! THINK MALFOY! THINK!!!! "I went to Medea as a camper." Oh Father Time, please let me go back, please!! I'll give you half of my inheritance! Please!

Cho looked a bit confused, "Okay..." she murmured with a quizzical glance at Draco. He may be as good-looking as hell and I may want to jump his bones real bad, but I think all that inbreeding must've made him retarded. God, I have to be careful, with those good looks and that brain, because if I do jump his bones I have to think of the consequences! What if we go too far and I get preggos and they inherit his cunning intelligence? HOLY SHIT! Must reign in hormones, must reign in hormones. This was Cho's mantra ever since Cedric died. She wasn't having much success with it.

"I mean, you were saying you wondered why I was here, so...because...'ya know...I was here from six to nine...as a camper," Draco said pathetically, hoping to all the demons in Hell and Heaven that Cho wouldn't point out that she specifically said she wasn't curious and spare him further embarrassment. From the way she was looking at me, she probably was thinking I'm stupid. *Either that or she has the most perverse set of facial expressions.

Cho pondered whether to poke some fun, but decided against it. He was really good-looking and god knows, with Belinda here, she might not get any action this summer, again. At least I know he's immune to her, there's a bigger chance with him, Cho thought coolly. Hey, she is a Ravenclaw! "Okay, that's neat to know," she said and rummaged around for the most charming smile she had and beamed it in his direction.

Draco lost all his cool and gaped like such a fool that Cho regretted the smile because she really thought he was mentally challenged now.

I want her to be the mother of my children, Draco thought in a stupor. Oh sweet Devil, did I just say that?! Oh whores of Bethlehem, please come to my rescue! Must...stop...looking...stupid! Draco visibly shook himself a little and donned an equally "Shag-Me-Please" smile and got up, extending the nook of his arm, "Would you mind if I escorted you outside, Ms. Chang?"

I want him to be the father of my retarded children, Cho thought as his smile knocked anything that could add one and one together out of her. She shivered a bit and put her arm through his.

Well, what could a one say about them? A cynical person might say they would give birth to extremely horny and slightly retarded children. But a kind person would say they made a stunning couple. So stunning that if you were the CEO of Matel Inc. you would want to make a Cho and Draco barbie to market to extremely horny and slightly retarded children. And out the door they went into the bright sunshine, which even made them more stunning because it bounced off Draco's coifed blonde locks and created a blinding halo of light around Draco and caused a rainbow to reflect off Cho's inky black hair.

Belinda went motionless mid-spiel and hair-tossing, causing everyone to look in the direction she was looking.

"Did we miss anything?" Draco asked with a "We-Couldn't-Care-Less-You-Idiots" smile. Everyone gawked at them. To an innocent bystander, it would've appeared this was a camp for extremely good-looking but "mentally under-developed" teenagers.