Omnia Mors Perimit

Rumour had it that Weasel Bee and Granger were dating after all - a reason for much gossiping and mockery in the Slytherin Common Room. Millicent said that she'd only believe it if she saw it with her own eyes, all the while Pansy demanded her best friend to redeem the stakes by purchasing some dragon hide boots that Pansy had set her heart on. Like many other Slytherins, those two had bets running on the question whether Weasley and Granger made it or not - Draco faintly wondered if all those people really had nothing better to do.

He had, to be sure. He had so many things to actually do that he didn't know where to start. Tomorrow, he'd have to play against Gryffindor, for example. Which was impossible, of course. Not only that he had missed most of the practise, and really didn't want to make an idiot of himself in front of Potter. What was more - the entire school would be down at the pitch. He'd have the castle to himself, no one would miss him, no one would bother or detain him. Obtaining an excuse was easy enough; with a face like his these days, Madam Pomfrey would sign any sick note without further questions. And that Matthew Harper character was craving for a chance to prove himself. No probs.

At least that was no problem, if everything else. He had great difficulties keeping Pansy at bay. They had very different conceptions how a relationship should look like, the greatest difference being the amount of time that they were willing to invest. Pansy thought every minute without him lost. Draco found every minute they were spending together to keep him from the important matters. He didn't really feel like breaking up; he had started to enjoy that sex thing after all. They had achieved a certain practise, meeting in empty class rooms or the Prefect's Bathroom, and although he could never entirely focus on her alone, it relieved him for half an hour of all the awful fears that harassed him else.

It was a source of comfort in a way that Harper cocked it up - Slytherin lost. This would have been grievous, but from Draco's point of view it was rather satisfying that he wasn't the only Slytherin Seeker losing against Potter. Still, he had worries on a greater scale. He had managed to put some parts of the cabinet back together, but seeing how long this had taken him, and how many pieces were still not fitting, he'd need two years to succeed. He was basically waiting for the next 'reminder' of the Dark Lord - the last time, he had woken up in the middle of the night, screaming because his left arm had felt as if it was torn apart. The Dark Mark. Handy device, wasn't it. He wasn't keen to experience that sort of pain again.

There must exist a spell to identify the different splinters of the cursed cabinet, right? The way he had done it so far, trying each piece out - he was too old for jigsaws, and too much in a hurry. Also, his system bore the peril of severe mistakes - what if he used a piece in the wrong place? He couldn't afford to splinter like Montague had. The obvious suggestion was looking for the right book in the library.

He checked three dozen books, but didn't find anything useful. All authors commended a simple repairing charm, but this one didn't work on the cabinet. Oh come on, was it truly possible that none of them had ever come across an object that didn't react to a Reparo?! He was scanning book number forty-two, when hearing unpleasantly familiar voices.

It were Potter and Granger, and Draco had to refrain from giggling out loud - they were talking about Weasley and this one's fling with their house mates Brown. Ohhh, poor, poor Granger!

"If you'd perhaps excuse for the canaries..." Potter said tentatively, sitting on the other side of the book shelf.

"Are you out of your head or what!"

"I understand that you... I mean... Even I was a little - uhm - perplexed to see them kissing -"

"He's at perfect liberty to kiss whomever he likes. I really couldn't care less," Granger retorted snidely, every syllable betraying that she could hardly care more. God, this was hilarious. Priceless. Really. "And incidentally, you need to be careful."

They said some things about some teacher or potioneer that Draco had, strangely enough, never heard of. He didn't get what they were talking about and went back to the book in his hands, when Granger mentioned some girls wanting to slip Potter love potions into his pumpkin juice. No, he'd have to listen to this, he could dearly do with some entertainment. Potter was being his usual, inhibited self, Granger was giving her McGonagall imitation, all stern and strict and prissy.

"I don't go around putting potions in people's drinks... Or pretending to, either, which is just as bad!"

"Yeah, well, never mind that. The point is, Filch is being fooled, isn't he? These girls are getting stuff into the school disguised as something else! So why couldn't Malfoy -" Draco twitched; 'twas always irresistibly interesting to hear about one oneself, even more if the speaker didn't know one was listening! "... have brought the necklace into the school -"

"Oh Harry - not that again..."

Draco was astonished, admittedly. He had never suspected Granger to speak up for him... She explained why she thought it unlikely that Draco was the culprit, muttering, "They'd have picked up a powerful curse, like the one on that necklace, within seconds. But something that's just been put in the wrong bottle wouldn't register - and anyway, love potions aren't Dark or dangerous -"

"Easy for you to say!"

"So it would be down to Filch to realise it wasn't a cough potion, and he's not a very good wizard, I doubt he can tell one potion from -"

They had been talking so quietly that Draco had moved closer and closer, putting his head into the shelf. There was a spider - he didn't mind spiders in general, but this particular one tried to climb into his ear and Draco couldn't help it but wince back. Granger must have heard that noise for she stopped in mid-sentence. He didn't want to be caught eaves-dropping on these two, but was spared any further troubles because Madam Pince came and kicked both Potter and Granger out because Potter appeared to have written into some book of his.

The point however... Merlin, Granger was one clever bitch. The idea was grand. The post might be searched all right... But by Filch, who couldn't tell a wand from a tooth pick... That was a fact that cried for exploitation! He could make Madam Rosmerta send him anything, disguised as anything... He could make her send him some Dark Arts books, couldn't he...? Brilliant. Pity that Granger was a mudblood, for she was also a fucking genius. Draco would bet that she would find a way to mend the cabinet in no time at all.

"Slughorn is an idiot," Zabini remarked at one of the next evenings. "We're blessed for having Snape as a Head of House, frankly. Just imagine, it's not beneath Slughorn to suck up to someone like Granger!"

"She is frigging smart," Millicent said bluntly.

"Yeah, so what, really! Being smart isn't everything!"

"You would know, Zabini, wouldn't you," Draco drawled spitefully. He was trying to relax a bit before his next night shift; he was lying down on one of the couches, his head on Pansy's lap, his eyes closed.

"You shouldn't be talking, Malfoy. You didn't beat her in your OWLs either! However, Slughorn is just pathetic. How he keeps on boasting with all his fabulous connections - it's Gwenog Jones here, Bertie Higgs there. He even sucks up to Dumbledore, I mean, come on! He's already got the job, hasn't he, still he's bragging what a fantastic mead he's planning to give to Dumbledore for Christmas. 'Madam Rosmerta's Finest' -" he had put on a high, mocking voice. "As if that was so special!"

Greg sniggered. "I wouldn't mind getting a barrel of mead for Christmas."

"Me neither," Vince backed him up.

"You're complete dipsos, that's why!"

"And you're a teetotaller, or what?"

Draco kissed Pansy's hand that was stroking his face, and muttered, "If Slughorn's all that awful, why you're still going to his petty little meetings, Zabini?"

"Because I've met Gwenog Jones there, haven't I? And next time, Orsino Thruston's supposed to come!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tempus... Time flies.