The Flip of a Coin

Chapter 7

You could have heard a pin drop in that room. In fact, you could have heard a feather drop, but that is beside the point. The two men on the stage broke apart, with matching grins on their faces, as they surveyed the students still left in the hall. (Some had run for it as soon as they had heard the door smash.)

"Betcha never saw that coming, eh?" said Dumbledore with a smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement, coming to rest on Harry Potter.

~Mr. Potter. You were warned of this, but I fear it is a bit of a shock to you.~

~Well duh! ~ came another voice, ~You've just introduced me as your brother! What did you think they were going to do? Scream in absolute ecstasy? Brother, there's only one thing that can do that to people...~

Dumbledore smirked at his brother and shook his head.

~Don't laugh at me! Hey! Just because I like choccie! Uh! It is NOT effeminate!~

They both snorted, making the rest of the students in the hall, think they were mad, (although surely they were already sure of that?), and Voldemort nodded, a grin on his face, as poor Harry fainted away.

***

Hermione sighed, absentmindedly stroking her Jarvey, her eyes flicking across the paddock, resting on him. She sighed loudly, caught up in her own little world, not even noticing her friends trying to talk to her, until Ron waved a hand in front of her face with a grin.

"Mione! Hello? Are you alive in there?" He laughed, shaking his head. "That Jarvey's been swearing at you for the past five minutes you know."

She looked around dazedly. "Hmm? What, sorry?"

Ron pointed to the Jarvey in his hands and she sighed, putting hers down.

"I'm not concentrating properly today. Sorry."

Harry just smiled knowingly, before going back to his own thoughts. Everyone seemed to have accepted Voldemort at the school already. But he couldn't. Something was definitely going on, and no one had noticed. Not even Hermione, and that was definitely a bad sign...

***

Draco sat down at his desk with a sigh, a quill in his hand, hovering above a piece of parchment, on which there were only three words; The Secret Plan. He sighed as his door hinges creaked, putting his quill down slowly, but not looking round.
"'Lo," he said quietly, "I'm just writing. You can come in if you want I guess."

His uncle nodded, stepping towards the desk, his eyes flicking across the parchment, as a smile formed on his lips.

"You're making a plan to get her?" he asked, trying to mask his amusement.

Draco nodded slowly, before sighing, looking up to the man.

"How do you know if someone likes you?" he asked, sitting on the bed, letting himself fall back, as his uncle shrugged.

"Well they tend to watch you all the time, and get a dreamy look in their eyes..."

Draco swore violently, causing his uncle to smirk, raising an eyebrow in question.

"The mudblood likes me."