No Other Choices

Chapter I

It's not my fault!

The darkness was making him insane. He felt the hands running over his face and soon enough, his chest. He saw nothing, only felt. Then, a face touched his chest. He recoiled at the feeling of a tongue in his navel. The tongue then trailed down his stomach and...

"DRACO!" Harsh anger filled his mind, it was all a dream. "Draco you rich little prick, get your ass up, we've got potions in twenty."

He looked up to find himself face to face with Pansy Parkinson. Her smile was malicious but her eyes said something more suggestive.

"How many times do I have to tell you? LEAVE ME ALONE!!" The girl just wouldn't give up. It's like she couldn't get enough of being turned down. He stood up and walked over to his trunk after he pushed her off of his clean green bed.

"Just thought you should know since you are the head boy and everything," she added, eyes traveling from the top of his white-haired head, to his silken black boxers, to his pale but somewhat muscular legs.

"Well, get out or I'll take points from Slytherin."

"You wouldn't dare Draco," with that she walked out of the room, swinging her hips.

"Ugh," he muttered under his breath as he kicked open his trunk. He extracted the most comfortable robes he had, black with a dark green collar and cuffs. As he slid them over his head, he couldn't help but recall his dream. It was the same one he'd been having since the start of term, and still he was "in the dark" about which girl it was.

He walked into his bathroom and began to look in the mirror. His appearance was rather crisp and yet uptight, he had just woken up and he looked perfectly slicked back.

"I look too stiff," he said before sniggering to himself silently.

He gazed into the mirror before closing his eyes and thinking of flying, girls, potions, girls, tormenting Potter, girls, and anything that would make him feel better. He felt his entire head begin to tingle and he opened his eyes. His sleek blond hair had fallen out of place and had grown just past the bottom of his ears; it also looked a little darker. There was stubble on his face, which he was surprised to see, also the fact that his face had gotten a little color since his meditation.

Draco swaggered out of the bathroom before looking down and seeing how ridiculous his stride looked. He corrected it before walking over to his bed and grabbing his olive green messenger bag. He walked out of the common room and down the hallway to the dungeon.

"Mr. Malfoy, I would think that a Prefect would be able to get to class on time!" he eyed Malfoy's tousled look disapprovingly before painfully speaking again. "Ten points from Slytherin."

Malfoy suddenly felt like Potter. It was unlike him to get points taken away. He was always the one to set the example.

Speaking of Potter, his reaction was unpredicted. He stared back at Draco with something far from malice, it was more like understanding.

The class went by slowly and laboriously. Snape was on his case more than ever and he was wondering why.

"Malfoy," Snape said darkly under his breath as Draco began to leave the room. "It is most unlike you to do so poorly in my class. Whatever is going on in that adolescent head of yours, I want it to stop. You will be assigned a tutor."

"But Sir!"

"Silence, Malfoy," he said, rather nicely compared to how he usually spoke. Then, his face changed, it was looking sickly as he eyed the parchment on his desk. "Granger, Hermione Granger will be your tutor. She remains the only person in this class to keep up, except Potter and Weasley, but I daresay you won't be working with them."

"Professor!" He interjected, loudly. He relaxed and drawled slowly. "I simply cannot have a tutor; it isn't the nature of a Malfoy to get...Help."

"You are quite correct, but I'm sorry to inform you that you won't be taking this course much longer if you continue at the rate you've been accelerating."

"I'll do anything professor, I'll do extra credit, I-," he began.

"I do not allow extra credit Malfoy, the subject is closed."

Draco walked out of the dungeon, pausing to look at the door close behind him. He heard Snape in his office talking.

"Professor McGonagall," he said clearly. There was a whooshing sound before Draco heard his transfiguration teacher speaking sternly.

"Yes Severus?"

"Minerva, I would like Miss Hermione Granger to tutor one of my students in Potions, that is, of course, if you agree," he said silkily.

"She would be a good candidate," she said slowly. "But to which student?"

"I should hardly think it right to disclose-," he said quietly.

"Oh, come on Severus, who is it?"

"I don't think its right to-," he was cut off again.

"Severus!" she said curtly. "Who is it?"

"Draco Malfoy!" he snapped angrily.

"Oh," she sounded like she was smirking slightly when she said this. "Everything seems in order; I shall inform Miss Granger immediately."

There was a small popping noise and a whoosh as the fire presumably went out. The swooshing noise of Snape's cloak was audible from the corridor as he walked angrily around the dungeon.

Malfoy walked off to the Great Hall looking solemnly at his feet the whole way. Miraculously he ended up in front of the enormous doors, it was a wonder he made it there at all because he was hardly paying attention to which way he was going.

Upon entering the Hall, few things were out of the ordinary. Two large oafs motioned from the Slytherin table for him to join them. Crabbe and Goyle assumed he wanted to sit with them. Instead, Draco walked to the edge of the Slytherin table and sat next to a cluster if first years who promptly edged closer together, making room for him. He looked at them and gave them a weak smile.

Over one of the first year's heads, he saw the Gryffindor table. He looked for the familiar bushy head and couldn't find it. He pulled out a piece of parchment and began to sketch Snape's head. It was fairly good; the blood was flying nicely as the bludger smashed into his face. The first years gave him a look of fear and he gazed toward the doors to the hall and saw two people entering. One was Hermione Granger, one was Professor McGonagall. Granger looked over at Crabbe and Goyle, and then swept the Slytherin table over with a puzzled expression. She hurriedly set her things down between Potter and Weasley at the Gryffindor table before walking around towards his. He quickly stood up, grabbed his bag and quickly walked out the doors onto the familiar pathway framed with countless rosebushes.

There was a bench by a statue of a reindeer and he sat on it before staring up at the sky. The real sky, as well as enchanted, was dark and full of stars. Draco imagined himself zooming through the sky on his broomstick when someone cleared their voice from the path.

"Huh-Hem," he snapped back into reality and saw who had spoken.

"What do you want, Granger?"

"Nothing more than to be far away from here, I assure you Malfoy," she said coldly. "Professor McGonagall has informed me that you need a tutor. I'm free on Friday afternoons and Saturdays, unless there's a Gryffindor Quidditch game, in which case I will go and cheer on Harry."

"So your boyfriend losing a quidditch game is more important to you than me passing potions?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact it is," she said before adding, "and Harry is not my boyfriend."

"Oh, that's right; you're with the Weasel," Draco finished knowingly.

"You know, I should go tell Professor this is a waste of time," she spun on her heel and began to walk toward the Great Hall.

"Wait, don't," he said weakly and unenthusiastically. "Come back, Granger."

"I don't think this is worth it Malfoy. Pansy Parkinson can tutor you; she's doing well in Potions."

"Ugh, don't remind me," he said with disgust. "Besides, she's not a prefect, and you're getting the best marks, Malfoys don't settle for less than the best."

"Wow Malfoy, I never knew you cared."

"I don't, I merely said you're the best at knowing everything, so help me know something, anything," he began to sound frantic. He grimaced. "Please, Granger? I have nothing else to do but drop potions."

"You have to drop it if you don't do better?" She brought her hand to her mouth and looked extremely shocked, as if the idea was horrifying.

"Yeah," he said darkly. "And that ass-hole Snape's the reason. He has no idea what's been going on, er, I mean he's being unfair."

"Well, I'm used to it," Granger said, sitting next to him. "I don't know any other teacher who takes house points for right answers."

"I don't complain, today's the first time he's ever taken Slytherin points," Draco shrugged mildly.

"It pays to be a teachers pet," she replied, clearly agitated. "You're Snape's golden boy, obviously."

"Well, you're practically McGonagall's daughter, so we're even there," he snapped back.

"At least I don't get away with everything imaginable! McGonagall takes off for horseplay, Snape lets you do whatever you want in that class, and it's like your domain."

"At least I don't have to ease two imbeciles along to get them to pass," he began to flush.

"How dare you, Harry and Ron are great students! They're smarter than you without even trying," with that, she stalked into the Hall and found her seat between Potter and Weasley. They immediately engaged her in conversation. He could read her lips, the words "tutor" and "Malfoy" came up. Potter and Weasley smirked and went back to eating. Eventually they were talking and smiling again.

Draco stared enviously at them. They were actually friends. Who did he have except his overgrown wrecking balls that followed him wherever he went only because their parents were "business associates?" He grabbed his bag and quickly shuffled back to the dungeons and to his common room. He found the door to his prefect's quarters, entered, heard the rush of air as his torched lit automatically, and flopped onto his bed. He stared at the ceiling and something landed on his chest.

He snapped up. It was an owl, a very nice owl actually. It was all white and fluffy and...Potter's owl! What reason in hell did Potter have for writing to him? The owl held out its leg, talons clutching a letter. He tore open the seal on the letter and began to read tiny scrunched together writing.

Malfoy-

Meet me at the statue of the reindeer outside the Great Hall after lunch on Friday. From there we will go to the Potions dungeon which is reserved four our session. Bring your text, cauldron and necessary ingredients. We will be brewing a difficult potion.

-Hermione Granger

That made sense, Granger still had to tutor him, bad attitude or not. Friday after Lunch...he had something to do Friday after lunch. Quidditch practice! He couldn't possibly miss Quidditch practice; after all, he was the captain. He went through his bag and pulled out his quill, that of an eagle owl. Potter's owl retreated to Draco's pillow, obviously recognizing the writing utensil as something else. He wrote neatly in his perfect penmanship.

Granger-

I hate to burst your bubble but Friday after lunch does not fit my schedule. Although, if you want to fit it in, I get out after dinner at about nine so we can work then. Send your answer by owl in time for breakfast tomorrow.

-Draco Thomas Malfoy

He took of his robes and slid into bed wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. He placed his wand carefully on the nightstand, making sure he had access to it in the night. Draco let himself drift off into sleep quietly and slept surprisingly sound.

* * *

"Draco, wake up lover," a silky voice in his ear. He kept his eyes close, but he knew. It was her, the girl from his dream. He pulled her face down, forcefully slamming her mouth onto his before plunging his tongue into her mouth. They kissed for a few minutes before she pulled away and spoke blissfully.

"We have class Draco, Arithmancy." His eyes shot open, not only was this not the girl from his dream, it was the worst person possible. Pansy Parkinson grinned at him. "That was nice; I was waiting for you to warm up."