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Part Four: The Slytherins (a.k.a. Draco Malfoy and posse)

Only Draco Malfoy could smirk in his sleep, Theodore Nott observed with wry detachment. He gave the smaller Slytherin boy a rough shove.

"Oy, Malfoy, wake up!"

Draco sat bolt upright, fumbling for his wand and muttering, "I'll eat you alive!"

"Sure you will, Draco," Theodore said soothingly, sitting on the side of his bed. Crabbe and Goyle had miraculously awakened at this disturbance (ordinarily it would take nothing short of an explosion) and ambled over to Draco's bed as well.

"Oh, it's you, Theo. What do you want? Why are you bothering me at this ungodly hour?"

"I had one of those dreams." Theo shrugged. "Thought I'd share it with you."

Draco groaned. "Do we have to do this now? I'm trying to sleep."

"You always wake me up after one of your nightmares, the least you can do is let me tell you mine."

"Very well," Draco said with an enormous sigh. He yawned and stretched, trying to focus his attention on Theo. As there were many other things he would rather be focusing on, his attempt wasn't very successful.

"I was getting my Mark," Theo said in a hushed voice. "And after I was branded, the Dark Lord told me to kill my sister. Only I couldn't do it. I didn't want to. So she killed me instead."

"That's stupid," Draco said after a moment's pause. "One, you don't have a sister, and two, if you die in your dreams, aren't you supposed to die in real life?"

"Disappointed?" Theo snapped. "What were you dreaming, then? Another Gryffindor orgy?"

Draco sneered. "Please. I have better things to dream about. I'll have you know I'm working on a way to stop them completely." Theo snorted. "I mean it. My therapist says that as these dreams are beyond my control, I simply have to find the positive side to them, and once the bastards who are doing this to me see that I don't care any more, they'll stop."

"And what could possibly be the positive side to watching yourself shag Harry Potter?" asked Theo who could easily see the flaw in Draco's plan.

Shuddering, Draco considered it and replied, "Well, it's guaranteed to piss Weasley right off."

"True. And the good thing about becoming Hogwarts' resident man-whore?"

Draco's fierce scowl would have intimidated Theo if the latter hadn't just dreamed about his own death. His scrawny ferret-like Housemate seemed suddenly less threatening.

"The girls laugh at you," Theo added "It's written on the wall of the girls' loo. 'Draco Malfoy is a bloody wanker'. In pink lipstick. And something about you being very feminine, I didn't catch the rest."

Draco looked horrified. "It does not!" Then he simply looked sick. "What were you doing in the girls' loo?"

Theo shrugged. "It was the abandoned one. By the way, Moaning Myrtle sends her regards."

Draco shuddered again. "For Salazar's sake, have these people no shame!"

"Apparently not," Theo said, a smile playing at his lips. "Some of those dreams lend a whole new meaning to the phrase 'Mama's boy,' hm?"

"Stop it, that's just sick." Draco looked at Crabbe and Goyle who were wearing identical goofy grins. "What are you morons grinning at?"

"Nothing," Goyle said.

"You and Moaning Myrtle," Crabbe answered at the same time.

"Well shut up. I don't get it," he complained. "I've had a dream involving every unlikely situation you could possibly think of, when will they just give up and leave me alone? I'd hex them into oblivion if they didn't exist in an alternate universe."

"They do it because you're adorable," Pansy Parkinson cooed, coming into the room followed by Millicent Bulstrode, Tracey Davis, Daphne Greengrass, Graham Pritchard, Marcus Flint, and the androgynous Blaise Zabini.

"What is this, a party?" Draco howled. "Get out! I'm in my pyjamas!"

"Green silk pyjamas?" asked Pansy interestedly.

"As fascinating as that is Draco," Tracey commented, taking a seat on Theo's bed, "we heard raised voices and came to investigate. If you're going to keep us up, the least you could do is let us share in the fun."

"If you call a deep and meaningful relationship with Hermione Granger 'fun'," Draco muttered bitterly.

"I don't know," Millicent mused, "it has its perks."

"Yeah, like all your home work done for the rest of your years at Hogwarts," Marcus agreed. Which, in his case, could be forever.

"You're looking awfully pale tonight, Tracey," Draco said suspiciously. "You too, Daphne. Positively translucent."

"We've been dreaming again," Daphne said carelessly. "We always wake up transparent when those people finish having their way with us. It takes us awhile to remember who we are."

"Have you been having that trouble as well, Blaise?" Theo asked curiously.

"Of course," Blaise replied, stretching out on Draco's bed. "Draco may be the resident man-whore, but I've slept with everyone, male or female, at least once. And of course, my own gender changes from dream to dream."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that, Blaise," Pansy said. "Are you a boy or a girl?"

"That's hardly relevant," Blaise said, dismissive. "Aren't we here to discuss Draco's sex life?"

"Is that what we're here for?" asked Marcus. "Oh well, better than discussing mine."

"What are you doing here anyway, Flint?" asked Crabbe in a rare moment of intelligence. "I thought you'd have left by now."

"Got held back again," Marcus sighed. "Which of course gives those twisted freaks the opportunity to make me fall in love with Oliver Wood or that little twit Katie Bell."

"Why?" asked Tracey, fascinated.

"Because," said Marcus. That seemed to explain it all.

"So let me make sure I understand this," Graham said, sounding as if he understood nothing at all. "Draco, Pansy, Marcus, and Blaise, you have these re-occurring twisted dreams where some omnipotent person places you in relationships you ordinarily wouldn't be caught dead in."

"Like Ron Weasley's girlfriend," Pansy spat, rolling her eyes.

"Like Harry Potter's love slave," Blaise said with a sigh.

"Like Percy Weasley's boyfriend," said Marcus, looking disgusted.

"Like Lord Voldemort's personal cuddle-bunny," added Draco. Everyone stared at him. "Hey, don't look at me like that. It happened."

"Well, it could be worse, Draco," said Goyle. Now everyone stared at him.

"Oh, really?" Draco replied in a voice heavily laden with sarcasm. "How so?"

"You could have to seduce McGonagall."

All the Slytherins retched.

"Never put that image in my head again," commanded Draco. "For all I know you're giving them ideas!"

"How do you suppose they come up with these ideas anyway?" Daphne asked, her eyes half-closed, curled up on the bed.

"I think they're doing drugs," Pansy said firmly. "There is no way anyone could possibly think I'd copulate with a Weasley unless they were under the influence of something."

"At least you're only stuck with Weasel King," Draco said, his entire body twisting with disgust. "I've had a relationship with every Weasley that currently disgraces this planet. And Potter. Haven't I suffered enough? Oh, yes, and let's not forget that my father abuses me, and I'm just dying to be redeemed by a Gryffindor."

"It seems none of us could possibly want to join the so-called Dark Side," Blaise said sardonically. "We're all just dying to become good little boys and girls."

"Well, it was the way we were raised of course," Graham replied, shaking his head. "We're not bad, not so long as some idiotic Gryffindor/Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff wants into our pants."

"Why is it always Potter?" Draco asked to the ceiling.

"Because he's famous?" answered Crabbe.

"It was a rhetorical question, idiot. I'm not gay!"

The others just looked at him.

"I'm not!" he protested. Then he kissed Pansy to prove it, but she shoved him away.

"Oh, honestly, Draco. I won't let you kiss me just to prove you aren't in love with Potter. That never ends well for me."

"Those are just dreams!" Draco shouted. "I'm not gay!"

"Apparently I am," Marcus said glumly. "Since I'm always involved with Wood or Weasley. Never even a member of my own House!"

Crabbe and Goyle shrugged in unison. "Vince and I just generally stand behind Draco and look intimidating," said Goyle.

"Of course, just perpetuating the stereotype," said Tracey. "Certain stereotypes have their ways of sneaking into everyone's dreams."

They all turned to look at Draco who flushed.

"I DO NOT WEAR LEATHER PANTS!" he bellowed.

"Calm down, Draco," Theo said, startled. "You're sounding like Potter."

"Oh, the horror," said Draco, calming at once. "Which reminds me, why do all these idiots think I'm obsessed with my hair?"

The other Slytherins exchanged a knowing look, but decided not to say it, which probably was a wise choice.

"Who outside of Slytherin is your most common mate, Draco?" asked Millicent curiously.

"It would be a tie between Potter, Granger, and the Weaselette. It's all this 'hate turned to love' rubbish. As if I'd ever touch Granger. She's a Mudblood, for Salazar's sake! Potter's an idiot and Weasley's...well...a Weasley! Though I'm not immune to Snape dreams, either."

"Oh, ew," Pansy said. "That's almost worse than McGonagall."

"Nothing is worse than McGongall. Besides, she's just Snape in a kilt."

"What about Longbottom?" asked Millicent.

Now Draco began to gag. "Not even in his dreams."

"Never say never," Marcus pointed out. "Those sort of things have a way of coming around and biting you on the arse."

"I'm just tired of being some sort of incredibly good-looking sex god," Draco said with a sigh. He looked surprised at himself. "Well there's a sentence I never thought I'd say."

"Why is everyone so fascinated by you anyway?" asked Theo.

"I don't know," wailed Draco. "But I've slept with everyone and everything in the entire bloody castle! They make me out to be some sort of angst-ridden slut!"

"Obviously it's because you're such an underdeveloped-"

"Who are you calling underdeveloped?" snapped Draco, flexing his biceps.

"-character, that people feel you have room for improvement. And of course they want you to snog Potter," finished Blaise.

"Why can't I snog Pansy?"

Pansy brightened at this prospect. "Any time, darling."

"You do sometimes," Blaise answered. "Mostly when the authors don't particularly like you."

"Speaking of Pansy," Millicent said slowly, "don't you have any interesting dreams?"

"Other than shagging either Draco or Weasley? Not particularly. Occasionally Potter shows an interest, and who could blame him, but I'm not that desperate. No, I'm afraid Blaise and Draco have the distinction of being Slytherin's representatives in a Gryffindor-dominated world. Although, that reminds me...Draco, how's your father?"

It took him a minute to understand the significance. "That's disgusting, Pansy. You're not allowed at my home any longer. What would my mother say?"

"She's usually dead, so it hardly matters," Pansy replied with a smirk.

"It's late, Draco," Tracey yawned, pulling a half-asleep Daphne up with her. "We'll leave you to your torrid love affairs."

"They aren't real," he called after her as she left the room followed by Millicent, Graham, Marcus, and a somewhat reluctant Pansy. "Oh, the angst. How I am sick of the angst. Death Eater, not a Death Eater, abusive father, non-abusive father, pure evil, quasi-evil, WHY CAN'T THEY JUST MAKE UP THEIR MINDS!"

"Calm down, Draco," Theo said automatically, returning to his bed. Crabbe and Goyle did likewise. "You'll give yourself a sore throat shouting like that. Go to sleep, maybe you'll have a good dream now."

"Not bloody likely," Draco muttered viciously. "And if I dream of seducing McGonagall in nothing but a kilt, I'll murder every last one of you in your sleep."

"See? Sounding like yourself already. Good night."

There was a quiet muttering from Draco's bed, and then he fell asleep. He dreamt...he dreamt of snogging Ginny Weasley. Honestly, what did you expect?