Draco Finds Jesus

'Pssst.'

'What?'

'He's doing it again.'

'What?'

'He's doing it again.'

'Ok, maybe you didn't understand me correctly. What?'

'Malfoy. He's reading.'

'So he's suddenly taken an interest in Potions. So what?'

'That's not the Potions textbook.'

'What are you two whispering about?'

'Hermione doesn't want anybody to read other than her.'

'That's not true, Ron! I'm just surprised. I think he's up to something.'

'Maybe Hermione's right, Ron. It is a little odd.'

A shadow cowered over the Griffindor trio.

'Finished already?' Snape asked icily.

They hurriedly bent back over their books. Snape, for once, left them alone. Of course they hadn't finished! Even Hermione wasn't relishing this assignment. They'd be doing homework for hours!

It was true, though. Draco was bent earnestly over his book. Snape, of course, in his favoritism, hadn't noticed that Draco wasn't reading a Potions book. Harry craned round to see what it was Draco was reading, but to no avail. He considered whispering, but instead wrote a note and passed it to Ron. 'How long's it been going on?' the note read. Ron shrugged his shoulders and passed it on to Hermione. She read it, quickly glanced to check Snape wasn't watching, and wrote on the back of the note. She then passed it back to Harry, via Ron, who was beginning to look fed up with the whole thing. Harry read Hermione's note. 'All week. I can't think what he's doing. He's been really quiet, too. Barely bullied Neville all week.' At this point the bell rang. In any other lesson, the students would have packed up their things. But not in Potions. There was a deathly silence as they fixedly stared at their books in tense anticipation.

'You will finish this essay and have it on my desk by Monday morning. No lateness, and no exceptions. You may go.'

There was a scurry as the Griffindors gathered up their things as quickly as possible to get out of the hated Potions lab. The Slytherins packed up at a more leisurely pace. Draco put everything in his bag one-handed, without looking up from his book. When it was all packed away, he finally put the book in his bag and nodded to Crabbe and Goyle, who were nervously watching him.

'Come on then,' Draco said impatiently, as they left the desk. Harry took this as his cue and scurried out of the Potions lab before the trio could get to the door. Ron and Hermione were waiting for him outside.

'What took you?' grumbled Ron.

'I couldn't see what he was reading,' Harry said quietly. 'If only we could get his bag, then we could see.'

'Oh Merlin! Not still on about that are you? Does Malfoy have to be plotting every time he does anything. You know I don't like the g*t, but does he have to be up to something? Maybe he's just bought some porn.'

'Ron!' exclaimed Hermione, shocked.

'Not that I'd ever look at it, obviously,' Ron interjected quickly. 'But Malfoy might. I could imagine him with whips and chains and stuff. No, no, not Malfoy with whips and chains and stuff, but I can imagine him liking that sort of thing. Not that I'd know anything about it, obviously. Never read porn in my life. Unlike Fred and George. Not that I'd know that was porn of course, not having seen it. But it looked like porn. No, when I say it looked like porn, I mean I think it was porn, um, they said it was porn.'

'Put the spade down,' said Harry. 'And get yourself a JCB.'

'What?'

'Oh. Wizards don't need those do they. It doesn't really work with stop the digging spell and learn a more powerful digging spell.'

'What?'

'Oh, forget it. I'll need a JCB myself in a minute at this rate.'

'What?'

'You still haven't explained why you think Draco's reading porn,' persisted Hermione.

'Um. I think Ron means he was looking awfully engrossed.'

'WHAT?'

'No what Harry means is -'

'Oh forget it, both of you! I'm not bothered in whether you read porn. Why should I be? It's just interesting to know how you view women, that's all.'

'Now Hermione.' soothed Harry.

'What?' asked Hermione calmy.

'Um. I don't have anything else to say.'

'Of course you don't. You're a man.' Hermione retorted, turning round and walking towards the common room.

'Time of the month?' mouthed Ron. Harry nodded.

'And don't you dare even think a woman can't have strong views and emotions without being hysterical and pre-menstrual,' Hermione said over her shoulder.

'Hermione!' came the shocked reply. 'Would we?'

*

Crabbe wasn't very good at worrying. It wasn't something that came naturally to him. But then, few things did. Other than looking menacing, that is. He could be thankful for that at least. Or he could be if thankfulness came naturally to him either. But anyway, as far as Crabbe could worry, he was worried. He'd not spoken to Goyle about it, but they had exchanged meaningful (insofar as anything either of them did was ever meaningful) looks. Malfoy was acting odd, and it confused them. He was reading. He didn't seem interested in trying to annoy the Griffindors or get them into trouble. Crabbe had sneaked a peep at the book Malfoy was reading. It was called, 'Have you let Jesus into your heart?'

It was time to mention it to Draco. Maybe if he got Goyle to do it.

'Goyle.'

Goyle was trying, not very successfully, to open a packet of biscuits. The effort of directing his attention to another task made him cross.

'What?' he replied, irritatated.

'Malfoy. You should ask him what he's reading.'

'Why?'

Now that one stumped Crabbe.

'Then maybe he'll stop.' Goyle screwed up his face with effort, the biscuits now left unheeded in his lap. Goyle couldn't quite work out the logic of that. Not that he usually could work out the logic to anything much, other than that following Malfoy was sensible. But no, there was definitely something flimsy about this reasoning.

'How does that work?'

'Uh. . . dunno.'

'He's coming.'

And sure enough, Draco had entered the common room; for once, without his book. Instead, he was wearing a huge crucifix around his neck. Goyle, trusting Crabbe as the second most intelligent of the outfit, took the plunge.

'Malfoy, what was that book you were reading?'

'That book?' Draco sneered. 'That book happens to be better than the whole library here put together.'

Crabbe and Goyle both looked suitably impressed.

'That book is about the future of the whole world. That book is about where we came from, where we are going, and how we should live our lives. That book,' here he took a deep breath. 'Has smiting in it.'

Now Crabbe and Goyle don't have the largest vocabulary in the world as it is. But smiting is a word only really used by the religious, because they are the only ones capable of true morality (fear of God being the pre- requisite for responsible moral behaviour).

'Er. . . smiting?' ventured Crabbe.

'Means wreaking vengeance on those who sin against God. Usually involves painful and horrible deaths by supernatural means.'

Crabbe and Goyle looked blank. Malfoy sighed.

'Ok, which words didn't you understand?'

'Uh - wreaking, vengeance, supernatural.'

'And God.'

'Yeah, and God.'

'Right. Ok,' said Draco, not looking as though it were right or ok. 'Well, rather than involve you in a philosophical debate on the nature of God, why don't I just read you some smiting.'

'Um. . . okay,' said Crabbe, warily.

'It's violent,' encouraged Draco.

'Cool!' enthused Goyle.

Draco reached inside his coat for yet another book, this one called 'Scripture to send your enemies to hell.' He flicked it open, and ran his finger down the contents page.

'Smiting, smiting,' he murmured. 'Ah! Here it is, Chapter 3: Smiting.'

Draco cleared his throat and quoted in a loud and commanding voice, 'And it came to pass, when he reigned, that he smote all the house of Jeroboam; he left not to Jeroboam any that breathed, until he had destroyed him, according unto the saying of the LORD, which he spake by his servant Ahijah the Shilonite. 1 Kings, 15:29.'

'Cool?' said Goyle, hesitatingly.

'Cool,' confirmed Crabbe, who had understood the bit about not leaving anything that breathed. 'Utter destruction.'

'Here's another one,' continued Malfoy. 'Isaiah 37:36. Then the angel of the LORD went forth, and smote in the camp of the Assyrians a hundred and fourscore and five thousand: and when they arose early in the morning, behold, they were all dead corpses.'

'Um.' began Crabbe. 'They arose in the morning. to find they were dead corpses? And what other kinds of corpses are there?'

Malfoy shot him a withering look, and cleared his throat, whilst Goyle, yet again, looked confused.

'You'll like this one,' Malfoy said firmly. 'Esther 9:5. Thus the Jews smote all their enemies with the stroke of the sword, and slaughter, and destruction, and did what they would unto those that hated them.'

Crabbe and Goyle both understood this one. They smiled. Draco smiled too.

'And following the example of the chosen people of Israel, who is *our* enemy, that he may be smited?'

'Potter.'