They Shook Hands: Year Three (Original Version)

They Shook Hands : Year Three

An alternate (but realistic!) universe Harry Potter fic
by Dethryl

Chapter Sixteen - The Break-Up

Several days later, Pansy deliberately sabotaged Parvati Patil's Sleeping Potion. Pansy reached across the aisle and dropped a few inches of unshredded salamander skin into Patil's cauldron when she turned to ask her partner Lavender Brown a question.

The potion began fizzing up immediately, spilling bright yellow foam down the sides of the cauldron and moving across the bench top. Patil screamed loudly as the stuff began dissolving her book bag, which was on the bench in violation of Professor Snape's laboratory rules.

Brown grabbed her own bag off the floor and quickly moved out of danger. Patil grabbed her knife and scraped at the bag, trying to save it. It might have helped if the knife hadn't started melting as well.

Then Professor Snape appeared. With a wave of his wand and a muttered word, the befouled potion vanished. Streams of smoke curled up from the bag.

"Miss Patil, do I dare ask what happened?" Snape drawled. "The proper ingredients of today's potion do not cause a corrosive effect in any combination, so I think that will fifteen points from Gryffindor for endangering your fellow students with your inability to fulfil even a minor responsibility."

"But Professor!" Brown protested.

"And as for you, Miss Brown," Snape continued relentlessly. "Were you too busy giggling to keep your partner from adding the wrong ingredients? That will be another fifteen points from Gryffindor."

Patil was fuming. She stared down at the ruins of her bag, but Harry could see her fists clenched tightly.

"There is not enough time for you to start over. You will both receive a zero mark, and you will brew the potion in detention."

Snape wouldn't let them leave the classroom, either. They both had to sit silently while everyone else finished working and turned in their potions. When the lesson was finally over, Snape detained them both to dictate the terms of their detention.

"Well done, Pansy," Harry said in the hallway.

Pansy started a bit. "You saw that?"

"What's this?" Blaise asked. "Pansy, you did that?"

"It was masterful," Jenna said. "What did you drop in there?"

"A bit of salamander skin."

Tim burst out laughing. "Yes, that would do it. Well done, Pansy. Excellent prank."

"Why are you causing chaos in Potions?" Draco asked, sounding cross for some reason. "Has Patil done something awful lately that I don't know about?"

"Well I can't be sure, Draco. There's so much you don't know." Pansy flipped her pigtails over her shoulder.

"I happen to be brilliant," Draco snapped.

"You're a legend in your own mind."

Draco didn't respond. He glared at Pansy, but he then shoved his hands in the pockets of his robes and turned to walk away.

"Don't you walk away from me! Draco Malfoy, you come back here right now!" Pansy shouted, stamping her foot.

Draco turned and took a couple of steps back towards Pansy. Pansy glanced over her shoulder, back towards the Potions laboratory. Patil and Brown had come out of the classroom and were walking towards the Slytherins.

Pansy looked back at Draco. "You are the most brainless, thoughtless, useless git in the world!"

Then she reached out, took a handful of the front of his robes, and kissed him.

Blaise, Tim, Jenna, and Millie were staring. So were Patil and Brown.

After a few seconds, Pansy broke away, smiled sweetly up at a very confused-looking Draco, and swept down the corridor. She winked at Harry as she passed him, and Harry heard her humming softly to herself.

Draco looked as though someone had hit him over the head with a board. Then he turned the most smashing shade of red and bolted in the opposite direction, nearly knocking Patil and Brown over as he shoved between them. The two girls watched him flee and then giggled to each other.

"Did we just really see that?" Patil asked, approaching the dumbfounded Slytherins.

"I'm not sure what I saw," Millie replied, ignoring for the moment the fact that she didn't like Gryffindors.

"Why'd he run off like that?" Brown inquired.

"Probably had to go brag to his brother," Tim snickered. "'Elan says this'. 'Elan says that'."

"Elan would be Head Boy this year, Tim. Shall I tell him you're mocking him? I'd love to see what some of those German curses he's learning about would do to you." Jenna had always liked Elan.

"No thanks."

"Not scared of the big, bad Malfoy are you, Nott?" Patil asked scornfully.

"Not scared, Patil. Just mindful of the fact that he can likely out duel me. Remember, we Slytherins are eminently practical. I'd rather not get hexed."

"And you are so very Slytherin," Patil sighed. "Well, see you around."

By the next day at lunch, most of the school seemed to know what had happened outside the Potions classroom. Girls giggled whenever Draco passed by, and the older blokes offered grinning congratulations. Draco, once over his initial shock and chagrin, took it all in stride. He had completely switched tracks on the question of girls, and now he piled endlessly on Tim, Crabbe, and Goyle about "joining the men". It was actually rather tiresome.

* * *

In the start of April, a long-standing mystery was solved. Harry had first observed on the train ride to school in second year that Jenna would be extremely energetic and obnoxiously perky when she had consumed coffee. But in the weeks and months of having coffee with her on Thursday mornings, Harry had never seen her react the same way.

Professor Flitwick was the instrument of revelation. He was delivering his Charms lecture with his usual bombast, but Harry was fairly distracted by Blaise twirling her hair and was not paying much attention.

"And that's where I'll end it today," Flitwick said, putting his notes away. "We'll pick up next time with the Cheering Charm. The incantation is 'Gauisus phasmatis'. Say it, everyone."

"Gauisus phasmatis."

"Good! Practice it! Dismissed!"

"Hey!" Jenna said in surprise.

"What?" Harry asked.

"I know that Charm!"

"What?"

"I said I know that Charm. I heard it every morning at the breakfast table. Dad uses it to make coffee."

"Coffee? The stuff they don't let you have?"

"Yeah. Oh my God! Dad's been putting a Cheering Charm on the coffee!"

"Well, that might explain a few things." Harry had read a few chapters ahead in the Standard Book of Spells and knew that the Cheering Charm artificially introduced happiness and good humour.

"I told them all it wasn't the coffee that did it to me!"

And the mystery was solved. After the next Charms lesson, the Slytherins were all tremendously perky and happy. They went back to the common room joking and laughing just like they had as eleven-year-olds. All of the strange moods the boys had been in lately and the silly private giggling that the girls had contantly been at evaporated. Even Tim and Pansy didn't snipe at each other.

Pansy did, however, pay a lot of attention to Draco. She walked very close to him, nearly shoulder to shoulder. All the way down to the dungeons, she chattered on about how much she had enjoyed the last Astronomy lesson. Her constant stream of words prevented anyone from getting the password out.

Instead of shouting at her or insulting her, Draco chose a somewhat unorthodox approach to rendering Pansy silent. He leaned forward and kissed her.

It lasted only a few seconds. Pansy's face plainly showed her astonishment. Then she smirked and smooched him back.

"Remember Kettleburn," she said sweetly. The stone wall slid open, and the pair sauntered down the steps to sit at one of the tables.

"What ridiculousness is going on?" Millie grumbled, looking up at Crabbe. "You're not getting any crazy ideas, are you, lug?"

Crabbe had the decency not to laugh. "Naw, Mills. Not that you're not stunning."

"Well all right then."

Cheering Charms, Professor Flitwick had advised them, would likely appear on the final examination at the end of term. Other teachers likewise began dropping hints. The Easter holiday was really no holiday at all, merely a week in which they attended no classes and were assigned no new homework. It was good that they had the week, for there was a lot to study.

* * *

But Harry couldn't spend his whole vacation studying. He and Draco ran Quidditch drills, practised their duelling spells, and spent a good few hours in the weight room listening to Elan talk about anything and everything. Whether it was girls, magic, or Quidditch, Elan had lots of good stories.

"There's this one bloke a year behind me," Elan said during a weight training session, "by the name of Krum, and to look at him on the ground, you wouldn't think him worth a bent Knut. But put him on a broom, and by jingo he's phenomenal!"

"What position does he play?" Harry was considering switching to a heavier dumbbell.

"Seeker," Elan replied, putting down the weights, drawing his wand, and tapping the hexagonal metal. He picked them up again, grunting at the new mass. "Not much of a talker, but he's a wild man on the pitch. I think he'd even give you a run for your money, Harry."

"If he wants to challenge the youngest Seeker in a century, let him come to Hogwarts and try."

"How's the weight there, Draco?"

Draco was sweating profusely. His repetitions were slower, but he had a determined set to his jaw. "I'm fine," he said shortly.

"You're sure? Because I can make it lighter for you."

"Piss off."

"I wouldn't mind."

"Shut up, Elan."

At that moment, one of the house elves entered the room. "Begging Masters' pardons, but the Master has sent Nibby to ask Harry Potter to call on him in his office please."

"What does he want?" Harry asked, setting his weights down.

"Master did not see fit to share that with Nibby, sir."

"Go to your master, and tell him that I will be along once I've had a shower."

The elf bowed low and vanished with a soft bang.

Quickly washing off the sweat he'd built up in the weight room, Harry pulled on fresh robes and ascended to the third floor. He knocked lightly on the heavy door.

"Come in."

Draco's father was sitting at his desk scratching on a few parchments with his quill. He had changed robes since dinner and now sported a blue so dark it tricked the eye. The fabric scattered light from the lamps. His finest cloak was draped over the back of his chair.

"You sent for me, Mister Malfoy?"

"Ah, Harry, thank you for coming. Narcissa and I will be going out momentarily, but I wanted to give you and I a chance to talk man to man."

"Okay." Harry was confused.

"By now you've had some time to get used to the idea that there are boy-people and girl-people. You've gone out to a concert with young Miss Zabini, and I've no doubt you've been doing a little kissing, eh?" Mr. Malfoy was giving Harry a knowing smile.

"Yes, sir," Harry admitted.

"As it should be. My purpose is not to embarrass you, but I do want to make certain that you have been living up to the behavioural standards of our society. I'm sure you're aware of how I feel about Muggles."

Harry chuckled at Mr. Malfoy's dry wit. "Yes, sir. I quite agree, honestly."

"Their culture is barbaric. I've seen gangs of young hooligans wearing the most disgusting clothing, and their public decorum leaves much to be desired. Witches are not objects to be pawed and fondled with irreverence like Muggle women. Witches are women to be treated with respect and affection. We are all born of woman. They birth the young and consequently are to be cherished and protected. A wizard should be willing to lay down his life to save a witch. If he is not willing to do this, he is not a man at all."

"I see." Harry understood about sacrifice. His father had faced Voldemort in order to try to give Lily Potter time to escape with baby Harry.

"Holding hands is permitted and encouraged as a public form of affection. Kissing should last no more than three seconds. Groping is right out. If you permit your hands to wander, you should fully expect a slap across the face. And you will deserve it."

"Yes, sir. What's groping?"

"Placing of the hands on the torso or legs. It is a subconscious claim of possession. Witches will not be possessed." Mr. Malfoy gave him a sharp look. "Remember she has a wand and knows how to use it."

"I will."

"Good. I think that about covers it." He raised his voice slightly. "Come in, my treasure."

Mrs. Malfoy opened the door and stepped into the office. She looked absolutely stunning. Dark silver robes covered her from neck to ankle, but her arms were bare and decorated with platinum bangles around her biceps and elbows. Long strands of diamonds glittered from her ears and from the jewelled hairpins that kept her blonde hair up.

Mr. Malfoy rose to greet her, gently taking her hand in his and bowing down to kiss the back of it.

"Cara mia," he whispered, staring deep into her eyes.

She touched his face with one hand. "My darling," she said longingly.

Then he pulled her close, his hands sliding around her waist; her arms looped around his neck. Their lips met in a kiss that might have gone on forever, but they both showed restraint and pulled back.

Mr. Malfoy turned back to Harry. "Cissa is my heart and my soul. My world would be hollow without her. She makes me feel complete. As it should be. Though our marriage was arranged, it is not without love. Without it, nothing else matters; not wealth, not power, not influence."

"You'll discover that as you grow up, dear. Don't expect to find it in the first girl you kiss. Our families once speculated that Lucius should marry my older sister Bellatrix."

"I would rather have died alone."

"The right girl is out there waiting for you, and you have plenty of time to find her."

Harry didn't quite know what to say. He was definitely cognisant that Blaise was a girl. She was a nice girl at that; very caring, very sincere. He supposed he did love her after a fashion; he loved all his friends. Was he in love with her? Would he even know it if he was?

"So you're going out tonight?" Harry felt that maybe this was a safer subject.

"Yes. But there's no sense in repeating it. Would you please retrieve Draco and Elan and meet us in the sitting room?"

"Certainly."

Harry nearly tripped down the stairs as he ran down to the weight room. He banged the door open with more force than he'd intended and cast a sheepish look as both Elan and Draco glanced askance at him.

"Your mum and dad are heading out," he said. "They want you in the sitting room."

Elan wiped his face with a towel and immediately headed up. Draco dropped his weights and likewise made for the stairs.

"Boys, as you know, tonight is our twentieth anniversary." Mr. Malfoy sounded very happy about it. "We're going out to Loch Lomond and will not be back until the morning. Elan, you are in charge. Draco, you will obey your brother. Harry, I know I don't have to worry about you. Under no circumstances are you to invite friends over for a party."

"I've got too much studying to do to have a party," Elan said instantly.

"Good. We'll see you in the morning."

As soon as they were gone, Elan immediately tossed a pinch of Floo powder in the fire. "Villa Zabini!"

"What are you doing? Father just told you no parties."

"I'm not having a party." Elan stuck his head in the fireplace. "Hello? Jamie, are you there?"

"Elan!"

"Hey beautiful. Can you visit?"

"Sure. I need to see you anyway."

Elan ended the call.

"Jamie's coming over," he said with a wink.

Harry grinned at him, knowing what the older boy was insinuating. The couple would soon be finding a secluded corner of the Malfoy grounds to engage in some idle snogging.

"Father said no parties."

"And this isn't a party. It's just Jamie. Now you two clear off and give a chap some privacy."

The boys clambered up the stairs. Draco opened the door to his bedroom and immediately shut it again.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"I've had a brilliant idea. Let's spy on them."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Lots of reasons. Blackmail amongst them."

He spoke a password and pushed open a panel in the hallway on the second floor to reveal a small set of stairs that led down behind the wall of the sitting room.

"What's that?" Harry asked, indicating narrow slits that spilled in lamp light.

"It's part of the décor. Completely invisible from any angle in that room."

Anything further Draco might have said was interrupted as green flames suddenly roared in the fireplace and Jamie stepped out.

"Ah, my dulcet darling," Elan said extravagently, swooping in to peck Jamie on the lips. "You look so lovely."

"Thank you."

"There's no moon, but would you like to go for a walk in the darkness? We could be alone for awhile."

Jamie shuffled her feet a bit. There was a lengthy pause, before she said, "We're alone now. Can we talk for a bit?"

"Talk?" Elan sounded disappointed. "I've only got a few days before I go back to Durmstrang. I'd much rather do something else with my lips."

"Is that all I am to you?" Jamie asked. "Something to snog in the darkness?"

Elan looked slightly startled. "Certainly not. We can stay inside and snog if you wish."

Jamie slapped him sharply across the face. She shoved him down onto the couch and glared at him like a thunderstorm from above. Her jaw set, she put her fists on her hips. She looked ready to explode.

"How long have you been unfaithful to me, Elan?" she demanded in the hardest tone.

"I have not been unfaithful, Jamie," he denied instantly. "Why do you accuse me? Who has been telling you tales? Was it Fitzjean? Or Sawyer?"

"Don't you dare to talk about my friends in that tone of voice," she ordered him. "It was Lynn who told me, and she wormed it out of Percy."

"Now how would Percy know about what goes on at Durmstrang?" Elan questioned in acid tones.

"Your letters!" she shouted at him. "You can't find time to write to the girlfriend who's been waiting for you, pining for you, but you can take time to make secret evil plots with your cousin!"

"Inviting him to get together over the holidays hardly constitutes an evil plot," Elan scoffed derisively.

"I know what you were planning to do, you cad," Jamie stormed on. "No decent wizard talks about women that way! You disgust me!"

"You're being hysterical," he patronized. "I don't care what Fawcett's been telling you; I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

He stood up, pushing her back. "I'm done with this, Jamie. We're through. It's over. I don't want you to owl me any more. The N.E.W.T.s are only five months away, and I need to study. I can't be distracted by you and your ridiculous fantasies."

She stared at him, incredulity plain on her face. Whatever outcome she had expected, this didn't seem to be it. The look Elan was giving her was scornful and scathing at the same time. He looked like his father.

Jamie's hand rose up holding her wand. Elan slapped her hand away immediately, causing her hex to fly off course. The blue light crashed into a vase on the mantle, scattering water and flowers everywhere. She spun around, pointing the wand over her shoulder, but Elan saw it coming and ducked out of the way. This one sailed across the room and zapped a hapless house elf that went flying against the wall with a crash. She waved her wand in great sweeps and pointed it down at him, but he rolled to the side to avoid the red bolt of light that set the couch on fire.

"You crazy bitch!" Elan cussed, his hand flashing into his pocket for his own wand. "Aegis vocare!"

The Blasting Hex she loosed bounced off his shield and shattered the window. She cast another hex that Harry didn't recognize, but it also was ineffective. She tried the Disarming Charm, but Elan looked at her almost pityingly.

"I'll show you a real disarming charm," he promised. "Infractus manus!" Jamie tried to sidestep the bolt of white light, but it curved with the path of Elan's wand and struck her in the wand hand. There was a loud, rapid series of cracking sounds. Jamie screamed in pain. Her wand fell to the floor, and she clutched her broken hand to her chest.

She sank to her knees and began to sob, overcome by her emotions. Elan stared down at her for a long moment. He watched his ex-girlfriend cry, his expression reflecting the storm of thoughts that had to be playing in his mind. Without a word, he turned and walked from the room, leaving her there amidst the smoke from the burning couch.

The house elf that had been blasted against the wall hobbled gingerly over to the fire and clapped its hands. The flames died. The elf snapped its fingers with both hands, and the couch repaired itself. It motioned to the shattered vase and window, and each in turn was restored. When all the damage to the room from the brief duel had been erased, the elf bowed its head and disappeared with a pop.

Jamie was still crying on the floor. Some of her cries were sharp, as if of pain. Other sobs were more wracking, emotional. It was uncomfortable to watch her.

Harry turned away. This moment was too private, too raw for him to cope with. It was troubling that a relationship that seemed so rock solid should crumble into dust so fantastically. Elan and Jamie had once been in love, but here they'd just hexed each other in anger.

What if that happened to him and Blaise? That horrible thought came at him from out of nowhere. Blaise was a lot like her older sister, and Harry knew it would hurt tremendously if Blaise, whom he was so very close to, ever raised her wand against him.

It could never happen, Harry realized with sudden epiphany. He wouldn't let it. He wouldn't let their friendship go up in smoke like that couch. No house elf magic could fix what was so fragile.

* * *

The ramifications of the break-up naturally spread to Hogwarts.

In the Slytherin common room, after the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had ended in a tie, the upper form girls had arranged for an ice cream party. While the younger students were allowed to have some, as they were handed a bowl, everyone fourth year and below was banished to the dormitories by the prefects. Only the older students were allowed to party, and Harry heard Blaise telling Pansy that it had been organized to find Jamie a new boyfriend.

"I think it's so nice," Blaise gushed, sighing dramatically. "She deserves to find a good man, not some worthless two-timer Malfoy."

"That's my brother you're talking about, Zabini," Draco said warningly. "Mind what you say."

"That's my sister who's been crying her eyes out for a solid week. She's missed half her classes, and she did abysmal on her last Charms exam. Don't tell me what to say, Malfoy."

"She can cry a whole river of tears, but then she needs to conjure a bridge and get over it."

"Elan can't be held responsible if witches at Durmstrang find him handsome," Pansy said, joining the argument. "Jamie needs to learn how to deal with her issues if she's going to get him back."

"Don't you go defending him, Pansy!" Blaise shouted. "You know he's a cad!"

"Don't raise your voice to me, Blaise," Pansy warned in deadly tones. "You will speak reasonably or not at all."

"Elan Malfoy is the world's biggest cad," Blaise said slowly, leaning closer to Pansy with every word.

"Speaking that opinion might not be the wisest option," Pansy replied just as intently. "You forget yourself, Zabini."

Emotions rippled across Blaise's face as she struggled for control. Her mouth opened, but she was searching for words that would not manifest.

"See? You can still your tongue." Pansy wasn't quite sneering. "I recommend you do more of it in the future."

Harry didn't know what to do. He thought he should side with Blaise because he liked her and sometimes kissed her, but Elan was the older and smarter boy who'd helped him out adjusting to Hogwarts. Elan had been the one to orchestrate Harry's rescue from Privet Drive in the summer before second year and been banished to Durmstrang for his efforts. Elan talked to Harry as though he weren't just some dumb kid.

"I think Elan's a real decent bloke," he said quietly, not wanting to stir up more shouting. "I think Draco's real lucky to have him as a big brother."

Blaise stared at him, her eyes wide and questioning. She wanted to know why he had defended Elan, and Harry wasn't sure she would understand. Blaise looked around to see Pansy and Draco both glaring at her. She seemed to wilt then, as she swallowed her words. She sat very still and stared at her hands in her lap.

Millie broke the awkward silence with a rude snort. "This is why romance is stupid, Crabbe. Good friends there shouting at each other over things their bloody siblings are doing. It's complete drivel, if you ask me."

"It is," he agreed.

"So why don't we agree to stop talking about it?" Goyle suggested.

"That's brilliant, Goyle."

"Thanks, Mills."

"Wanna play Exploding Rummy?"

"You bet."

But the rest of the house was talking about it the next morning. Lawrence Derrick and Jamie had been seen talking quietly in the corner at the party.

"I don't see how any respectable witch can start up again after only a week," Pansy declared in response to the news. "Certainly in love with Elan, wasn't she? What's she done to try and get him back?"

"I must say, I agree with you, Pansy," Tim said, sounding astounded. "Two weeks would definitely be more appropriate. You add an extra week for that hair."

"You are about as sensitive as a lamp, Tim. Do you know that?"

"I really am, aren't I?" he agreed with vast insincerity obvious in his voice.

"Well why don't you go chat her up if you think she's so wonderful?"

Tim's body language said he was considering it. "No, ditzy blondes aren't my type. I don't need a crier either."

"She does cry a lot, doesn't she?" Pansy questioned, her tone suddenly agreeable.

"That she does."

There was a pause, the air free from Tim and Pansy's usual disagreement.

"Why Malfoy?" he asked, changing the subject completely. "I can't figure it out."

"Well, we are betrothed," Pansy said reasonably. "Crabbe has no neck, and Goyle's teeth are crooked. And it could hardly be you, now, could it? Who else could it be?"

"Not jealous, are you, Tim?" Harry couldn't resist asking.

"Hardly!" Tim scoffed. "I'd much rather have a snog with Patil. She quite liked me in Quidditch leathers, you know."

"Padma?" Harry knew the lads' consensus: The Patil twins were the prettiest girls in third year.

"Parvati."

"A Gryffindor!" Pansy hissed incredulously. "Who are you, and what have you done with Tim Nott? The Nott I know would never touch lips with a Gryffindor."

"Well, I did."

"What?!"

"At Wand Smasher last summer. She kissed me, actually. Threatened to hex me if I told anyone, so I guess I'll have to be on my guard for awhile."

Pansy looked like her head was going to explode. "That's just not right."

"Way to go, Tim!" Harry cheered, clapping his friend on the back."

"I'm only telling you because I'm tired of Draco's endless talk about the 'man club'. You must be too, by now. Please help me shut him up."

"We just need someone to kiss Crabbe and Goyle, then we're all 'in'," Harry suggested.

"Someone? A single volunteer?"

"You two will not ask a girl to do that," Pansy stated resolutely. "It's demeaning."

"Surely there must be one girl in the school who likes Goyle's muscles or thinks Crabbe is handsome." Harry didn't think the second likely at all. "We just find her and encourage her to get kissy with him."

"Worst idea ever," Tim and Pansy said in unison.

to be continued...