To Like a Ferret

Chapter Two

To Like a Ferret, You Must Always Be at the Ready

Padma Patil glanced unabashedly at Terry Boot. She knew him so well. He was one of her closest friends. And she knew he was falling for That Slytherin Brat.

She could not very well blame him. She remembered how Draco could be the sweetest thing since sliced...cake. The rudeness and outspoken behavior only added to his charm. His attitude somehow suited him.

It made him an even more unbelievable bastard of course, but it suited him.

His good looks and vanity, along with his sly smirks and sexy drawls, could utterly charm Snape doing his darnedest to imitate Scrooge during Christmas.

And he knew it too, sod his veela roots.

She wasn't bitter over their somewhat tumultuous end. She knew perfectly well where they stood since the beginning.

It was just that, even though she knew and had been forewarned, and she was smart and calculative, she wasn't able to stop herself from falling for That Most Irresistible of Blokes.

Understandably, he was bloody sexy and all that, but it wasn't just her. Many others had made that mistake. And he was in Slytherin. He was rude and crude and bloody annoying to everyone.

There was something about him...

She normally did not spend a profuse amount of time dwelling on the wonders of Draco Malfoy. She had already done enough of that. And she never got anywhere.

But her friend clearly needed help.

Or a warning, whichever came first.

Terry Boot looked up from the book he was pretending to read and smiled tentatively at Padma Patil from across their common room. He motioned for her to join him on the couch.

"What is it Padma? You've been staring for the past ten minutes," he asked.

She paused and thought of a way to voice out her musings with tact.

"You are acting completely stupid, you prat. What in sodding hell do you think you're doing, falling for Draco? Was I not an enough example for you?" she hissed.

That was so the exact opposite of with tact.

Terry Boot did not even look surprised at this. He just shrugged and leaned his head back on the couch.

Padma looked at him.
Terry Boot was one of the most decent boys in the school, in her opinion. He was very attractive.

Not on the levels of Draco Malfoy or Harry Potter, or even that Blaise Zabini of course. Then again, those three made everyone around them look like shriveled up house-elves anyway, so it wasn't appropriate comparison.

Terry was a gentleman. He held chairs out for girls. He was silent but not shy. He was decisive but not forceful. He was intelligent, and a tad naïve really. He was a bit like Harry Potter in his nobility. His gentle demeanor was in direct contrast with Draco Malfoy's, who would have made Kreacher seem like a cherub.

Not that she knew who Kreacher was.

He did not deserve to get hurt by Draco Malfoy.

"Look, I'm sorry, that was a bit, err...rude," she started.

"It's fine Padma. I know what you meant," Terry replied.

She stroked his hair.

"Is it true then?" she asked.

"Not really. Well, a bit, but not really," he replied smiling up at her.

"It's none of my business Terry, but, honestly! You don't deserve to get hurt this way. You're much too good for him," she delivered, her voice a bit annoyed.

"Gah! I know that! He's just...I don't know! He sucks you in, you know? One minute you're just enjoying yourself, and the next thing you know, you like him too much. Way too much," Terry rambled.

"Yes I know that," Padma answered in understanding.

Honestly, boys could be so stupid sometimes. Her break-up with Draco was all everyone talked about when it happened, she wasn't likely to forget about it, was she?

Vanity can be contagious.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

"What am I going to do?" he whispered.

"This coming from the boy who got three points less than Hermione Granger on the last Arithmancy quiz," she said exasperated.

Terry Boot opened his eyes.

"Thank you," he said softly. He hugged her suddenly, tight.

"Anytime," she whispered at his retreating back.

~~~~~

"You what?" Draco Malfoy squeaked, in that adorable way that only he could manage, even with the absurdity of the situation surrounding him.

"I can't see you anymore," Terry Boot repeated.

Draco wondered idly if this was some sort of alternate universe where he was forced to be humiliated forever.

Because honestly, people were not acting the way they were supposed to, not in the way Draco liked anyway. This bloody day had gone abnormally wrong for him. It was a good thing it was already night time, otherwise, other crappy things would surely still happen.

Bloody hell, wonder if there's any truth in that karma crap Pansy talks about, he marveled in shock.

Because he was of course, again, in shock.

This was completely unexpected.

Draco wondered if he thought too much of himself just now. Because when he saw the Ravenclaw waiting for him outside the Slytherin common room, he had frankly expected a love declaration worth making a movie out of.

Not that he knew what a movie was.

He had conjured up scenes of romantic speeches; a crying spree; a shouting match; and a snogging session, all with him bidding the Ravenclaw farewell in the end of course.

Because it had to end. It had nowhere else to go.

This embarrassment never even entered his mind.

Sometimes he thought his imagination really was too much. Not that he minded. Made him even the more creative and cultured among this sea of plebeian students.

"Why?" Draco asked in spite of his brain's insistence to just shut up and go away with your pride still in place.

Well, a smidgen of your pride still in place at least.

At this, Terry's eyes widened a bit.

"Uhh, it's complicated. Things are getting a bit...sticky don't you think? It's best if we just stop it now," he answered.

Draco's mind wasn't really up to speed at that moment. He was still in disbelief. He hadn't practiced how to react in this particular situation.

Besides, his ego was still on a rampage inside his head, screaming obscenities about 'That Ravenclaw's stupidity' and words like 'gorgeousness,' 'superb catch,' 'way out anybody's league,' and 'Terry could only be so lucky' made their way into his mind's eye.

His chosen amusing reaction of opening and closing his mouth while his eyes bulged to the size of melons and would have competed with a house-elf's had Terry not stopped his implosion worried Terry Boot a little when he thought the Slytherin had finally gone starkers.

"Why? Don't you want to?" he asked after pause. Hope stirred inside his chest like a traitorous friend because yes it was wrong and yes it was ridiculous but I can hope can't I?

That brought Draco out of his egotistical reverie.

Because he had to act.

Because he may be vain and arrogant and a malicious bastard at best, but he did not lead a guy on who was clearly at the point of an emotional breakdown.

Because let's face it, Terry, I know you. And you're just about to break.

Draco frowned and shook his head. He looked at Terry and gave a wan smile.

"It had been great Terry. But you're right of course. This couldn't have gone on much longer," he inflected, his cool smirk once again in place. His voice was warm though, and that was his only indication that he had cared for the Ravenclaw in the best way he knew how.

Terry Boot's shoulders sagged just a fraction. He smiled tentatively and, inhaling deeply, stepped closer to the blond. He wondered if he was still allowed, but damn it, this is the last time.

He placed a chaste kiss on Draco's lips and embraced the Slytherin for a second.

He did not let himself think about anything in that precious moment.

He did not think about Draco's scent that he was never going to inhale again, nor kiss those soft lips that were at the moment not responding, because I will get over this.

And then he was gone.

Draco Malfoy stood rooted in his spot, staring after that most decent of Ravenclaws.

Smart lad, he thought, and felt his respect for Terry Boot ascend just a few more marks.

~~~~~

In the morning, the Hogwarts mill had, as expected, already accomplished its noble job. The uncanny method used by Cohorts Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown was guarded with the utmost secret and was still widely unknown. The swiftness and credibility by which their information trekked was nothing short of magnificent. Nobody was complaining though.

Harry Potter stared gloomily at his porridge in the Gryffindor table. He had not wanted to go to breakfast, but That Glutton who went by the name of Ron would not hear of it.

"Time to face the hexes mate," That Glutton cheerfully bellowed at him, the redhead's own brand of morning greeting.

He should be getting a patent on it any day now.

The students from all the Houses ate their breakfast whilst staring at The Boy Who Lived to Make Trouble These Days.

The Hufflepoufs looked even the more elf-like this morning, their eyes in varying sizes with the poorly-suppressed curiosity of it all and really, they just constantly prove they had no lives.

The Ravenclaws were all busy thinking up projections and calculations about the complications of Harry Potter's stunt. The graphs and charts that scattered about their table were all indicative of brains at work.

They wondered whether the Gryffindors had gone too far this time.

They wondered whether this would affect the unusual camaraderie the school had been experiencing with the Slytherins this year.

They wondered how to acquire Harry Potter's brand of valor.

They mainly just wondered how Draco Malfoy would get his revenge.

The Gryffindors were all acting smug and proud but all in all, they really just stared at Harry Potter with the incredulity of this joke.

The Slytherin table held scowling people that particular morning, not that that was anything new. The scowling was, however, accompanied by rabid snarls and foaming mouths.

Their ice prince had been humiliated.

Harry Poofhead was going to pay.

The staff did not seem duly concerned with the odd silence and obvious glaring the students were currently demonstrating. They were used to the way everyone treated Harry Potter like some sort of a fascinating plague. Year after year their opinion of him changed anyway.

Professor Dumbledore recalled how in Harry's First Year, everybody was simply awed by that gangly boy with the knobbly knees, and That Famous Scar.

Professor McGonagall remembered how almost everyone was terrified of Mr. Potter when speculations of his being the Heir of Slytherin surfaced.

Professor Snape thought back on how the students had been a trifle too dramatic on their worry for the life of That Potter Boy when That Insufferable Git Sirius Black showed up as a fitting The Grim in the Gryffindor dormitories.

Professor Hagrid recollected about the Houses' varying reactions when Harry Potter was named as another Triwizard Tournament Champion from Hogwarts.

Professor Trelawney's inner eye reflected on the way That Most Unfortunate Boy exuded leadership and gave off hope to his fellow students when he resisted the awful woman Umbridge's efforts.

A plague, but a fascinating one nonetheless.

The door of the Great Hall swung open, and the magnificent Draco Malfoy entered with his aristocratic air. He was followed by his cronies, who marched behind him and made him look even the more majestic. He looked utterly splendid this morning, more so than customary, and every single student in the Great Hall noticed that.

Every single one.

The students held their breaths. Questions raged inside their minds.

What is he going to do?

Will he clout Harry Potter again?

In front of the teachers?

He very well could, this is Malfoy!

A tense hush filled the air. All eyes trained on Draco Malfoy the moment he stepped into the Hall. He tilted his head in that striking pose as if all this attention was due him. He nodded to his friends.

Blaise Zabini's face crumpled. He frowned but did not do anything else except go to the Slytherin table.

Crabbe and Goyle followed Blaise's movement and started eating right after they sat down.

Pansy Parkinson winked at Draco before she went to her table. That smirk she wore was commonplace because she often looked liked she knew something nobody else did. Virtually the same look Hermione Granger constantly wore really, but without that wicked glint Pansy Parkinson so loved to flaunt.

As Draco Malfoy took his first steps in the direction of the Gryffindor table, the whole school erupted in loud murmurs that pretty much rivalled the buzzing of the bees during their dance ceremonies.

Draco Malfoy took no notice of all the commotion going on and simply lugged on to Scarry Pothead's direction. The smirk in his face was impeccable, and his whole body's demeanour suggested that someone was going down today and it was so not going to be him.

Harry Potter who was at that moment still refusing to look at anybody, felt a jabbing at his ribs. He snapped his head up to glare at Ron when he saw Draco Malfoy's purposeful stride in his direction.

Now, Harry Potter had been in constant danger ever since he found out he was a wizard at eleven. He had been in jeopardy ever since he was conceived really, but it was only in the wizarding world did he become conscious of it. His yearly intrepidness against the Dark Lord was beyond great. During those times of peril, he just acted with the swift vitality and wit his youth brought him. There was no time for terror at those moments because events simply happened so fast.

It was in that instance Harry Potter realized that he had never been properly afraid before in his life, not really. The sight of Draco Malfoy's approaching form blanked his mind, sweated up his palms and weakened his knees.

He realized he was in utter panic.

Which was insane.

Because Draco was a fellow student. And they were of the same height, and they were both seekers, and there was truly no reason to be alarmed with the teachers present.

Besides, Madame Pomfrey would start asking questions and cluck in that annoying way of hers if he showed up at the Hospital Wing with another black eye for the second day in a row.

He rose from his seat when Draco reached his side. His throat was so dry he wondered when the cactus will grow. He looked down at Ron and Hermione with those expressive green eyes and acquired no help whatsoever from his two best friends.

"Err, can I help you Malfoy?" he croaked.

His throat really was too dry!

Draco tilted his chin up and smiled slowly. He lifted his hand and the buzzing around them intensified. Harry Potter winced a bit, expecting another blow.

Draco simply straightened Harry's glasses as it was a bit askew.

Harry Potter frowned at this and was about to ask what the bloody hell do you think you're playing at when-

"All right Potter. Hogsmeade on Saturday. Just the two of us then, I expect?" Draco drawled. He lifted an eyebrow at Harry's perplexed and frankly unattractive look.

The students started talking in loud voices, not caring anymore that the two people they were discussing were still very much in their midst.

"I'm-I'm sorry?" Scarhead stuttered.

Clearly he needed a dictionary. And a hearing aid.

Draco turned his back on Potter as though he did not hear anything and stepped towards the Slytherins. When he reached his table, he turned and faced the Gryffindors again.

"That's in three days Potter. I will not be caught dead in the company of someone who dresses so inadequately. Better transfigure something in your wardrobe for something suitable to wear," he said in a voice loud enough for everyone in the Great Hall to hear. He then snatched up his toast, and walked out of the Great Hall, his cronies, once again, behind him.