The Bet

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The Bet

Chapter I-The Bet

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The afternoon sun shone brightly on the late summer grass. There was a slight breeze in the air, ruffling the yellowing leaves as the trees prepared for autumn. Students were mulling around, doing homework, or scuttling off to classes. The British Institute for Advanced Magical Learning, commonly known as the B.I., was in full swing of their fall term, and while it was a small university, it was well known as being one of the most advancing magical schools in the Northern Hemisphere, if not the world.

The school existed in the small wizarding village of Rookwood, a town sitting on the edge of northern England, overlooking the sea and full of more trees than people. The school itself was eight different buildings arranged in a circle, four of which were large houses acting as the dormitories, and in the other four resided the classrooms.

While the curriculum consisted of all wizarding disciplines, the school was noted more for it's experimentation, spell and potion creation and medical advances than anything else. There was even a Quidditch team, the B.I. Sirens, which played against other similar institutes around the world, acting as a catalyst to get those who wanted to go pro the opportunity to be seen, as well as giving those who never had a shot at Hogwarts, the chance to play and become better. The school acted more like a muggle community college; most of the students were changing their post-secondary school chosen jobs and needed to take classes, or were just taking brush-up courses. And there were even a few who had just wanted to keep learning, or even just finish their original schooling, seeing as how the war against the Dark Lord Voldemort ruined and/or disrupted everyone's lives. While Hogwarts was still standing, like the war had never happened, many of the older students had spent more time fighting than going to school, and had yet to take their N.E.W.T.s, let alone get a job. And now they were too old to continue at Hogwarts, although many missed the enigmatic school.

The B.I. was not nearly as mysterious and grand as Hogwarts, but contained many of the same qualities, including house-elves, hidden rooms, and talking suits of armour. It had been founded by Garthamel the Great, a few hundred years ago, to ensure that all wizards got a proper education, and if they desired, have the opportunity to create their place in the wizarding world, by helping the advancement of magic. The classes were more like self-taught experiments, with a properly trained wizard to assign the occasional homework assignment and check on the pupils' progress and work. With the addition of the current student population, the courses changed slightly to be more taught than experimentation, but no one seemed to mind too much.

A majority of the younger students currently enrolled were directly from Hogwarts, and as such, retained many of their old prejudices and identifiers. The dormitories at B.I. were not divided up like the houses of Hogwarts, in fact, since two of the dorms were for girls, and two were for boys, there had been quite a bit of mixing as far as the assignment of rooms went. Fortunately, when the students appealed, the assignments were changed to house ex-Gryffindors and ex-Hufflepuffs together, and ex-Ravenclaws and ex-Slytherins together. Any other students enrolled were generally much older, and as such, they tended to live else where, away from the rowdy young adults that seemed to have taken over the campus.

Each dorm has four rooms, with a lounge and kitchen downstairs, and two bathrooms. The kitchens are actually used, as the house-elves are really only there for the staff and to clean the classrooms. There are two people per bedroom, and the remaining room had been given to a vote: generally, whoever was to represent the dormitory in the student housing committee.

The war seemed to have taken it's casualties rather evenly on both sides, including Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Bellatrix and Radolphus Lestrange, Marcus Flint, Pansy Parkinson, McNair, Avery, Professor Sinistra, Professor McGonagall, Mad-Eye Moody, Padma Patil, Colin Creevey, Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown, Alicia Spinnet, Jack Sloper, Terry Boot, Lisa Turpin, Hannah Abbott, and Justin Finch-Fletchley, all among too many others. Some felt the losses more directly than others; Parvati Patil had lost her twin, Dennis Creevey, his older brother...the survivors held a day of mournful solitude on the same day every year, the day of Voldemort's reckoning, to remember those who had given their lives so freely to the cause to stop the madman. While a few of them had wound up becoming Death Eaters, and perishing with their parents, usually it was the result of forceful servitude, than actual choice. A few more just stayed neutral or hid with their own families; and others still were full of painful scars, which were invisible to the eyes of those not looking for it. One of these latter people was Draco Malfoy, son of one of the most prestigious Death Eaters, who was forced to follow in his father's footsteps. And when he finally broke, he was cursed with the Unforgivables, among other things, by his own father, and was left to die, only to be saved by a few fellow Death Eaters and old friends from school, Blaise Zabini and Raven Harrell.

Right now, as the sun was shining down on the peaceful town of Rookwood, Draco and Raven were sitting in the school library, working on some Arithmancy charts, talking quietly amongst themselves. The library itself sat on the edge of the cliff the school was near, overlooking the sea. There was a long string of small mahogany tables lined up perpendicularly along the wide windows, giving everyone a spectacular view of the coming sunset. Rows upon rows of books stood along the opposite wall, and in a few nooks and crannies, there was the odd stuffy chair or two, where students could be seen talking in low tones, or snoozing between classes.

A few tables away from the ex-Slytherin duo, sat the most well known living wizard in the world; Harry Potter. While his presence still annoyed Draco, he did recognise that the boy had indeed saved the world, with the help of everyone involved, of course. Since it was more comfortable to keep up the same game he had at Hogwarts than think about his past or his parents' deaths, he did just that. And currently, while sitting next to his female companion, he kept glancing up at the Boy-Who-Lived-Yet-Again, watching him in contempt as he studied an old tome.

"You stare at him an awful lot, Malfoy."

"What? Who?"

"Potter."

"Humph. It's only because he's so bloody annoying. I'm just devising new ways to make his life hell." Raven chose not to try and convince her friend to stop acting like the childish brat he was back at Hogwarts, knowing it was no use. Acting like this was Draco's way of protecting himself from his past. Instead, she turned back to the devious thoughts coming to the fore of her mind.

"You sure it's not something else?"

"Harrell, what is your point? What else would it be?"

Raven leaned over. "Oh, c'mon, Draco. Don't tell me you don't see it."

"See what?" Draco bit out.

"All that sexual energy Potter emanates."

"Excuse me?" Draco said in surprise.

"Just look." When Draco didn't move his surprised gaze from Raven's face, she grabbed a hold of his chin and forced him to look at the other boy. "See all his dark, messy hair?" she said in low, purring tones.

"A rat's nest. Ugly."

"No. Sexy. Wind-blown. Like he just got off that incredibly fast Firebolt II of his." Draco made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat. Raven leaned over more. "I wonder if his other broom is that fast," she whispered.

Draco's head whipped around, and he bumped noses with the Slytherin girl. His mouth hung slightly open, and his eyes were wide, but he quickly and easily schooled them into a glare at the grin on Raven's face.

"Speaking of Quidditch," she continued, "you ever wonder what that body looks like under the robes?"

"No, I can't say I have." The boy sneered.

"Well, I'd say he looks mighty fine. Just as good as yourself, actually."

"Oh? Been sneaking into the Quidditch locker rooms?" It was well known that Potter had taken up the current Seeker spot for the Sirens, but it was also well known that Malfoy acted as back-up Seeker. Not that it mattered, really. He hardly ever saw the pitch, let alone got to play. Perfect Potter was never fortunate to fall off the cliff behind the school, in Draco's opinion.

Raven smiled wickedly. "Only a bit." She admitted.

Draco rolled his eyes. "See anything you like?"

"Oh, a few things," she said as she raked her eyes over the pale boy next to her. Both of the ex-Slytherins were well aware of their attraction to each other, but did nothing to provoke it, other than playful bantering.

Shaking his head at the girl's insinuation, Draco leaned forward to continue with this chart, but Raven forced his head back up.

"His glasses..." She prompted.

A heavy sigh. "Still ugly. Large, unsophisticated," was Draco's bored reply.

"Wrong again. Smart. Intelligent. Makes you wonder what he'd look like with them off." Draco was silent, like he seemed to be considering the information. Raven continued. "Those soulful, deep green eyes...you could stare into them all day. His most expressive asset."

Looking into the girl's own deep green eyes, Draco smirked. "Are you sure you're not getting off on this conversation, Raven?"

"Only if you are, Dray."

Draco snorted. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm not. You know I don't swing that way."

Raven smirked. "So you say." There was a pause as Draco started back on his studies. "I bet you can't do it." She finally said.

"Do what?" Draco was starting to get annoyed. He wanted to finish this chart now so he could have the night off.

"Seduce him."

"Him? As in Potter? Are you out of your bloody mind?" Draco's voice rose slightly at the end, and a few people looked over at the pair, namely Harry Potter himself, who had a clear view of the two sitting just a few tables away.

"Shh!" Raven' said, and the onlookers went back to what they were doing, except Harry, who kept his gaze for a moment before looking back down to his book.

"Are you actually asking me to seduce him?" Draco asked in a whisper.

"Sure. If you can do it...I'll give you something you've been wanting for a long time." Raven's mouth had twisted into a mischievous grin.

"What, my inheritance? Potter's death?" Draco had folded his arms across his chest, and sat back, gazing at the topic of conversation. He was pouting slightly, remembering the fact that the rest of his inheritance was still unattainable; the Ministry wasn't finished using it to make reparations yet. Not that his money was the only money being used in that way, of course. And it was very old news that Draco wanted Potter dead, but no such luck so far.

"No." Was Raven's low reply. She leaned forward so that her mouth was right next to the Slytherin boy's ear. Placing a hand on his upper thigh and squeezing it a bit she breathed, "Me."

An involuntary shiver ran unbidden through Draco's body. He closed his eyes briefly while gulping hard. Raven...to have her would be...well, she was perfect wife material for the last remaining Malfoy, not to mention a fine piece of arse that had been elusive to Draco for the better part of his hormonally active life...and seeing as her deviousness level seemed to have just shot way up as well...

"And if I can't do it?" He finally asked.

Raven sat back, breaking off contact. Draco secretly cursed the loss. "Well, I could be a total cow and deny you anything, but that wouldn't be smart, considering my own desires."

"And just what are your desires?" Draco asked, genuinely curious.

"What, can't you tell?" When all Raven got was a pointed look, she answered, "You, of course."

"What, so either way this turns out, we're shagging?"

"Jeeze, you make it sound so...barbaric."

"Well, that's what this is all about, right? Sex?"

Raven smirked. "Among other things."

"What other things?"

"Let's just say I have some plans of my own regarding our little Gryffindor hero."

"You're just a right little slut, aren't you?" Draco jibed playfully.

"I just happen to like my coffee two ways: black and with cream." Draco shook his head at Raven's allusion. He took another look at the unruly head of the boy across from him.

"If you want me, and I want you, why don't we just get on with it?" He finally asked. "Why involve Potter at all?"

"For a few reasons. One, although you don't quite see it yet, Potter is the most highly shaggable bloke in his entire school, let alone Britain, and excluding present company of course. Two, I overheard his friend Granger going on to the Weasley girl about how sad it was that Harry was twenty-three and was still a virgin." Draco's eyebrows shot up at this, "And three, I want you. I want him. I want you both. Alone, together, all three of us. I'm purely selfish when it comes to you and Potter. And I am a textbook Slytherin, after all. I devise a way to get what I want, and I get it."

Draco stared in mild shock for a moment at the dark-haired minx sitting next to him. Just when you think you know someone... Sighing, he said, "Well, if I'm getting you in the sack either way, I don't see why not."

"So it's a deal?"

"It's a deal. Only because your sordid little fantasies are intriguing." He smiled.

"Hey! My fantasies aren't sordid. They're sexy. And romantic."

Draco laughed, which earned a few annoyed looks. "You'll only get romance out of me when we're married, Love."

"Oh, and you're just assuming I'll marry you?"

Draco's cock-sure grin was now in place. "I'm completely sure of it," he said while gathering his books. It looked like he'd have to finish his chart at home. At least he had his own room...

Raven 'humph-ed' in response to Draco's certainty, but didn't keep arguing the point. She also gathered her belongings, and together the Slytherin duo left the library for the dazzling early evening outside.

"So," the Malfoy heir said as they made their way across the courtyard to the dormitories, "when do I start Mission: Seduce Potter?"

"Tomorrow."

"Is there any particular way you want me to go about this? Or can I use any method I see fit?"

"No, you can do it in any way you want. But don't just take him by force, Draco. Actually get him to want it as bad as I'm sure you will too. But I do want you to keep a journal on your progress."

"A journal?"

"Yes. I want to know all about how it's going." The girl stopped suddenly and fished something out of her shoulder bag. Producing a long flat box, she said, "Here."

"What's this?" Draco asked, taking the pro-offered box. Opening it, he found a pure white quill of the highest quality sitting on black velvet.

"It works like a quick-notes quill. You suck on the tip, and it writes down your thoughts and memories, down to a T. Even stuff you don't consciously remember. It works as long as you concentrate on the selected memories you want it to record, for a minimum of five minutes. Then it'll carry on by itself until it's done."

Draco looked at Raven through his lashes. "You've been planning this, haven't you?"

Raven grinned. "Oh, I hoped for it."

Shaking his head, Draco closed the box and slipped it into his bag. "What on earth did I get myself into?" He asked as they continued walking.

"Welcome to Raven's World of Fantasies, Manipulation and Seduction, Dray."