Harry Meets His Match

Chapter 10- Draco’s Punishment

“Harry, calm down…,” Hermione said.

“Draco tried to rape Surika, and he only got a month’s worth of detention,” Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

“And probation,” Ron pointed out.

“And probation, that doesn’t matter! It’s not enough! He should be expelled, suspended at the very least! I would like to see him in Azkaban! He tried to rape Surika, Damn it,” he thundered, his face turning red.

“We KNOW, Harry. You told us a thousand times already,” Ron said.

“Well, I’m going to make it a thousand and one! That behavior was unacceptable! I don’t think he even cared how much he could have hurt her! He could have given her a disease, or… or gotten her pregnant! I want to see a proper punishment,” Harry shouted and sat furiously in a chair. He jerked out a piece of parchment and began to write.

“Harry… What are you doing,” asked Hermione, as she walked over and peered over his shoulder.

“I’m making a list of nasty things to do to Malfoy! He’s NOT getting away with this!” Hermione looked at his list.

“Tear his hair out and use it for confetti… Rip his rib cage out and wear it as a hat… Gouge his eyeballs out and use them to play ping-pong… Yank off his… HARRY! Don’t you think you’re going to extremes a little bit? Honestly,” Hermione scolded, horrified at the extent of Harry’s anger. Ron snatched the list and read it to himself.

“These are all great ideas, Harry, I didn’t know you could even DO that with a broomstick, but… Shouldn’t you do something that won’t land YOU in Azkaban,” Ron asked. The glare had vanished from Harry’s face, and was replaced by a nasty, sly smirk.

“You’re right. Thanks Ron. I have some plotting to do…” And with that, he went to work devising a plan to get revenge on Malfoy.

That night, he slipped out of bed and pulled his Invisibility Cloak over his head. Silently, he crept back to his bed and pulled out a bottle that Fred and George had given him for this particular occasion. He wasn’t sure what the liquid inside the bottle did, but coming from the Weasley twins, it had to be good. They only told him that it would do something different every time he shook it. So, with that in mind, he crept out of the dormitories and out of the common room. As quickly as possible, he went by his memory, and was soon standing before the large stone doors of the Slytherin House.

“Basilisk,” he whispered. The door slid open, and he slipped into the pitch-black common room. He had gotten the password when he overheard Snape giving it to Filch. He looked around. Thee were two flights of stairs on either side of the common room. Harry thought hard. If he remembered correctly, the boys’ dormitories were on the right. At least he hoped so. He didn’t want to be caught in the girls’ dorms. So, with that in mind, he took the staircase on the right. Sure enough, when he opened the door labeled 5^th Years, there were five boys sleeping soundly. Although, Harry couldn’t see how with Crabbe and Goyle both snoring away like freight trains. He glanced around the dark room and Draco’s silvery-blonde hair caught his eye. He was sleeping rather awkwardly, laying on his stomach, with his butt in the air. Harry snickered silently as Draco muttered something that sounded a lot like: “But Daddy. I wanna ride the ponies!” If only Harry had a tape recorder, and tape recorders worked on the grounds of Hogwarts! This would be great blackmail.

Harry stood and listened to Draco muttering other things like: “Mama, I wet the bed.” and “What’s the difference between boys and girls?” for a few minutes. Finally, he managed to draw his attention away from Draco, so he could do what he came here to do, before he started laughing at him and getting caught. Slowly, he crept to Draco’s wardrobe and opened it up. Smirking, Harry pulled out the bottle and began spilling its contents all over Draco’s clothes. He moved from the shirts, robes, and pants, to the sock drawer and sprinkled some inside. It didn’t occur to him what was in the drawer underneath the sock until he opened it.

“Eww…,” Harry muttered to himself. “His underwear…” With a look of pure disgust, he began to close the drawer, but hen a certain pair caught his eye. They were white, with red lips and hearts, and they bore the words “Mr. Smooth” all over them, but the worst, the funniest, but absolute worst, was the letters spelling Draco Thomas Malfoy, written in black permanent ink on the inside elastic. Harry almost lost control and burst out laughing. He smirked. He knew he didn’t come for this, but he simply could not pass this up. Harry reached for the boxers and stuffed them inside his pajamas. After chuckling to himself, he moved on to Draco’s trunk and began to paw through it.

“Ah ha,” he said to himself and pulled out Draco’s most coveted possession. His hair gel. Harry chuckled and unscrewed the cap of the hair gel. He took the other bottle back out and shook it vigorously. He then pulled the stopper out of the bottle and emptied the last few drops into the gel. Harry watched as the gel began to turn a bright neon green, then it did something unexpected. It began screaming! He was quick to cap the gel to quiet the loud, piercing wail. He looked around the room. Crabbe and Goyle were still snoring away, two boys he didn’t know were still asleep, and Draco only let out a sleepy grunt and turned over on his side. With a sigh of relief, Harry laid the gel back in the trunk, and left the Slytherin House. When he got back to his own dorm, he put his cloak away and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The next morning, Draco awoke with a sleepy yawn. He didn’t seem to notice a sort of glow coming form his wardrobe, nor did he notice the bright green glow coming from his hair gel bottle as he dug it and a comb out. Groggily, he stood, half naked in only his boxers, and squeezed a sizeable amount of gel onto the top of his head. He whipped the comb once through his hair and dropped it. His mouth dropped open at the sight of the bright green stripe that had formed down the middle of his hair. “What the hell,” he shouted. “What is this?!” Frantically, he rushed over to the wash basin and began dumping water by the handful over his hair and tried to scrub it out. Did it work? No. There was no green washed off in the basin. He looked up into the mirror, and saw that the water didn’t help at all. In fact, it only made it worse. Now his entire head of hair was a bright, neon green!

“No,” he shouted and ran to his wardrobe. Maybe he could find a hat or something, but he got an even bigger surprise. All of his clothes were colored strange, mismatched colors. Some were pink, some were orange, and some were so mixed up that he couldn’t even tell what he colors were! Draco screamed at the sight, and then came another scream. It didn’t come from Crabbe, Goyle, or any other person for that matter. It was coming from his mass of bright green hair! The scream was so loud that it woke everyone else in the room.

“Draco. Did you know that your head is green and screaming,” asked Goyle, stupidly. Draco lost his temper.

“Of course I know it, Idiot! How could I not know when the screaming is coming from MY head! You’re damn stupid, Goyle! And since you seem to be acting so casual about it, I’m betting YOU did this! Didn’t you, Goyle,” Draco shouted, grabbing Goyle by the pajama collar. Goyle crumpled up in fear of Draco’s fury.

“N… No! I would never do that, Draco. Honest,” Goyle screeched.

“LIAR!”

“No! I’m not lying! I swear it!” Despite his size, Goyle felt small under Draco’s flaring temper. Draco glared and released Goyle.

“You’re too stupid to know how to do this, anyway,” he said, coldly.

“But who do you think DID do it,” asked Crabbe. “Oh… I think I know…”

“PARKER!” Surika jumped as Draco burst into the noisy Great Hall, causing a sudden dead silence. However, the silence was only temporary, for everyone began to laugh at his neon green hair, and his bizarre striped robes in every color imaginable. Draco stormed over to Surika, and the whole room went silent again as he grabbed the collar of her sweater and jerked her body toward him. She gasped, and her eyes widened with fear.

“How dare you do this to me, Parker,” he bellowed, showering her face with spit.

“I… It wasn’t me! I didn’t do it,” she stuttered.

“Don’t lie to me, Damn it! You know you did it,” he yelled back, shaking her violently. Surika yelped helplessly and told him repeatedly that it wasn’t her. The whole room was silent except for Draco’s shouts and threats. Surika shook with fear, but hen suddenly, a voice inside her said: “What are you taking this for, Surika? Why don’t you defend yourself?” and another voice said: “ I agree! Scream at him right back! Hit him even!” An old acquaintance, “the temper” came flooding back to Surika’s veins, and she slapped Draco with all her might. Draco was so startled, he dropped her on the spot and rubbed his cheek.

“Now you listen, and you listen good, Grease Trap! I didn’t touch your damn clothes! How could I when I was in the forest where I was supposed to be, WORKING?! I have no wish to be inside a boys’ dormitory, anyway! I don’t even know the password! And I didn’t do shit to your hair, and even if I did, you’re on probation, which means YOU can’t retaliate! Now that I think of it, your probation also says that you’re not even supposed to even be within five feet of me for the rest of the school year, so I suggest you back off and get out of my face,” she shouted and shoved him full force backward into a trash can. He jumped to his feet, his eyed narrowed and flashing with fury.

“You damn bitch,” he thundered and pulled out his wand. Surika put up her fists to punch him, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She looked up into the face of Dumbledore.

“Is there a problem, Miss Parker? Mr. Malfoy,” he asked. And what a time for Draco’s head to start screaming.

“Yeah,” said Draco. “SHE did this to me!” His eyes flashed as he pointed from his hair to his clothes.

“I did not!,” she growled and lunged at Draco. Dumbledore caught both of her shoulders and gently, but with enough force, sat her down.

“Now, now, Miss Parker. Don’t go losing your temper, and Mr. Malfoy. Surika could not have done that to you. She was in the forest all night,” Dumbledore said.

“That’s what I told him, but the slimy git keeps insisting that I did it!”

“Now, now. Quiet down, miss Parker.” Surika folded her arms and glared at Draco, crossly.

“I still think she did it, or at least told someone to do it for her,” Draco shot back. Surika opened her mouth to protest, but Dumbledore cut in quickly.

“If you’d prefer, Mr. Malfoy, I could reverse the spell…”

“Do it, now,” Draco demanded. “However, it may result in the loss of your hair,” said Dumbledore. Surika caught the amused twinkle in his eye.

“No. I’ll stick with the screaming green, thanks,” Draco muttered coldly.

“Suit yourself, young Malfoy. Oh, and I would refrain from crossing the line of my probation, if I were you. Unless, you wish to be expelled. Just thought you ought to know.” Draco glared.

“Fine. But we’ll just see who turns out for the worst.” And with that, Draco snorted and strode away in a huff. Dumbledore looked at Surika and winked.

“Better be careful, young Parker. His family’s bad news. It’s not wise to cross him too badly,” Dumbledore hinted. “Good day, Miss Parker.”

A week had passed, and Harry spent every day getting revenge on Draco. On Tuesday, he flushed some of Filibusters’ Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks down the toilet in the bathroom Draco was to clean during detention. Draco blamed it on Surika. On Wednesday, he made the seam on Draco’s bag split, spilling his books on the floor and shattering red ink over everything. Draco blamed Surika and said she’d used her mutant powers to do it. On Thursday, he switched the labels on Draco’s potion ingredients, which totally messed up his Deflating Draft, and exploded the dungeon. Best part was, Filch made him clean it up.

On top of everything Harry had done to Draco, Draco’s hair hadn’t worn off yet, and kept screaming at inappropriate times. Like, in the middle of Potions class during an important lecture, or in the shower, or when he was trying to spy in girls, or even in the middle of the night when he had been having a pleasant dream. Finally, Draco gave in and let Snape mix the potion to reverse the spell, but something went wrong, resulting in not only the loss of the green, but his hair as well. “I tried to tell you.” was the only thing Dumbledore had to say about it. Draco was so tempted to retaliate, (he was still convinced Surika had done everything), but he definitely didn’t want to be expelled, so he did the next best thing. He wrote his father and complained.

It was just after lunch on Friday when Lucius Malfoy paid a visit to the school, and if his mood wasn’t already foul before he got there, it certainly was when Peeves the Poltergeist flew around waving what Lucius recognized as Draco’s underwear, chanting:

“Mr. Smooth, Mr. Smooth, What are you trying to prove?

Because you see young Draco, you’re such a fake-o,

Maybe you should change your name and move!”

Lucius had become extensively enraged by this, and went straight to the Headmaster.

“My son wrote me just recently, telling me that your… forest guardian, has been causing problems for him. Is this true?!”

“Well, problems seem to have found Draco all right, however, I highly doubt it was Miss Parker has been creating them,” said Dumbledore.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Old Man! I can’t believe you trust one of… of them!” “One of who, Mr. Malfoy,” questioned Dumbledore. “One of those bloody mutants! You know we’ve had problems with the damn freaks for years! They can’t be trusted with our kind,” Lucius spat, angrily.

“Times change, Mr. Malfoy, and I, for one, would trust Miss Parker with my life. She could possibly be the link between us magic folk and mutants.”

“Hmph! Well, just watch! Once your precious little forest guardian realizes she’s got you in the palm of her hand, she’ll turn around and stab you in the back!”

“I seriously doubt that, Lucius.” “Then you’re a fool, Albus Dumbledore! I’m telling you, the bitch can’t be trusted!” Dumbledore only shook his head and sighed at this.

“If you even bother to look at my son, you’ll see what the conniving little broad had done to him! He’s bald for crying out loud,” Lucius shouted, banging his fist on the table.

“Well… I thought the look rather suits young Draco. Screaming Green was definitely his color,” Dumbledore chuckled.

“Laugh all you want, but you just wait. You’ll be sorry,” he spat and left the room, slamming the door.