Viva Las Draco

Chapter One: Sharon

Harry Potter was greatly annoyed.

You see, this was not an ordinary day for him.

No, it was a particularly annoying day because a certain coworker of his was getting greatly on his nerves at the moment.

Well, he always was on Harry's last nerve; but today, the annoyance seemed extremely evident.

He bit his lip and forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. What made that particularly hard was that such task was trying to shut out the other person.

Harry had reports to do. He didn't have time for this. Not at all.

And Draco Malfoy was not helping in the least.

Harry wasn't even sure what Malfoy was talking about anymore due to the fact that he had tried zoning out quite some time ago, although that whole bit had been quite in vain as the so-called co-worker persistently chattered on, unaware of his plight.

Harry, at twenty-eight-years-old, worked as an Auror with the Ministry of Magic. He took his work very seriously of course, especially since several other younger Aurors looked up to him.

However, there was always that one thing that caused Harry not to work to his fullest. Not that he didn't want to of course, he was just distracted.

And greatly annoyed.

About nine years before, Harry had gone into Auror training. Normal training lasted about three years or so and had lessons in both the Dark Arts and how to protect one self from the dangers of them.

Amazingly, Harry found out that not all Dark Arts were dark, so to say. Some spells weren't really so bad if you used them for the right things.

So he had begun his training in good spirits, ready to see if he was capable of surviving in the real world, where you didn't have a castle full of hundreds of people to watch over you.

And just as Harry was building his own walls of independence, they all seemed to shatter just as something completely unexpected happened.

He had only been there about a month...

"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted, and a silver stag - his vision of strength and guidance - erupted from his and charged at the boggart.

He was in a large room, the elder Aurors - the ones that were left, that is, clapped with enthusiasm.

"I never get tired of watching you do that, Mr. Potter," said an old wizard, sitting at one of the benches to Harry's right. "I expect you'll be great assistance in teaching your new partner how to do it," he added, as he stroked his long, dark beard.

Harry had just recently found out that he would be assigned a partner, someone who hadn't been able to come a month before when the training had been properly started.

That his partner had to tie up some loose ends was the excuse they gave Harry.

Something about getting to teach someone things he knew about the Dark Arts was slightly exciting for Harry. He hadn't had the chance to do this since the old D.A. meetings in his fifth year.

"As a matter fact," the old wizard said, looking down at his watch. "He should be arriving right about..."

There was a suddenly rapping at the door and Harry looked over.

"...now," the man finished, smiling, and motioned to the door. "If you please," he said.

Harry set his wand carefully back into his pocket, his heart now beating in his chest with excitement as he walked toward the large, wooden door.

He put his hand on the knob and turned.

Harry stared in shock for the next few seconds as he struggled with something coherent to say.

The cold, grey eyes of the man in front of him were staring at him in amusement and a sly smirk was his only evident reaction.

"Ah, yes Potter. I expected you'd select such a noble career line."

Harry stared. "Malfoy?" he said, astonishment heavy in his voice.

Harry's Patronus in the back of the room suddenly vanished with a pop!

Draco Malfoy sidestepped around Harry's still frame and walked into the room, giving a slight nod of acknowledgement to the old wizard.

"I'm delighted to find that you remembered my name, Potter," he said to Harry, still smirking. "Especially after those three long months since I saw you last."

Malfoy was standing there, his eyes roaming the room, taking in his new surroundings. His blonde hair no longer slicked back but parted casually in the middle and fell loosely around his pointed face. He was short and slender, several inches shorter than Harry. That didn't say much, however - Harry was rather tall, although not as tall as Ron.

As Ron came to his mind, he wondered what the redhead would say about this. If he knew that Draco Malfoy was going to be Harry's new partner for Auror training...

"You're going to be an Auror?" he asked incredulously.

Yes, yes. Draco Malfoy was going to be an Auror. A damn good one at that. However, that isn't the point of the story and isn't very relevant just yet.

What is relevant, then?

Well, for one, the fact that Harry was so annoyed. It seemed to be the only thing he could manage concentrating on and it was starting to make him go crazy.

There was a buzzing in his ear that he realized was Malfoy's drone, which - although it had been on some occasions - was not interesting in the slightest at the moment.

"Oh, you should have seen her face when I told her I wasn't even remotely interested. It was as if I had just said something along the lines of 'you have two months to live.' Absolutely horrified. Although, I can't really blame her, can you?"

Harry clenched his fist and didn't turn too looked at him. Just don't pay attention to him. When little kids bother each other, it's for attention, but once there isn't any, they get bored and leave.

Malfoy will leave... just sit it out. Just a few more minutes now...

"Potter!" Malfoy said so suddenly that Harry almost fell out of his chair and, unfortunately for him, turned to look at the other man who was watching him intently on the edge of his seat.

"Why aren't you bloody paying attention to me?" he complained loudly, his eyes flashed.

"Malfoy, don't you have some sort of work to do?" he asked, desperately hoping that he did.

Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed. "I've finished everything," he stated simply.

Damn. Harry thought for a second.

"Well, why don't you straighten up your desk or something and leave me the hell alone?" Harry strained the last five words greatly.

Malfoy's glance graced Harry before focusing on his own desk. The neat stacks of paper, the inkbottle, and quill were all lined perfectly to the left. On the upper right hand corner, Draco had a picture of himself (which Harry had snorted at the first time he saw it there) that was completely clean of any sign of dust. Other various things were on his desk as well. Along with a shiny black nametag at the front that read Draco A. Malfoy were a few galleons, a book, and his wand, which he had set there only moments before launching into his story.

Even his desk was the image of perfection.

He looked back at Harry.

Harry clenched his teeth. Oh, he was never going to get rid of him, was he? He was going to be doomed for eternity to listen to every one of Draco's stories, each of which was in some way related to a girl.

However, now that Harry thought about it, they had never ended how he thought most of Draco's stories should have done so.

Each one resulted in the girl getting rejected.

In fact, Harry couldn't remember the last time Draco had ever mentioned being romantically with a woman. For the best of his knowledge, Draco had been single for the past nine years.

Funny. After all his talk about being wealthy and good-looking, Draco didn't have everything like he made it out to be.

Harry shook it off. It didn't matter if Malfoy didn't have anyone. In fact, he wouldn't care if Malfoy were completely miserable because of it. Although he wasn't sure that he was miserable. He never made out to be.

That would be showing weakness and, apparent from a conversation they had a week before; Draco hated to think of his self as weak. Ever.

"Well, can't you read a book?" Harry tried, neglecting his work for the few minutes he decided to take to get Malfoy to leave him alone.

Malfoy looked at him for a second. "And which one would you suggest?" he drawled.

Sigh.

"Hmmm," Harry mocked thoughtfulness. "Maybe that one sitting right bloody in front of you?" he said sarcastically. Malfoy sent him a glare and looked at it.

"I've already finished," he said, once again with a smirk.

Harry felt ready to pull out tufts of hair. He made a sound that reminded him horribly of a dog's growling.

"Can't you read it again?" he asked, trying to keep his patience.

Malfoy, finally realizing that he wasn't going to get the attention he wanted, shrugged and looked defeated.

"Oh I suppose," he said, picking the book up from his desk. "Now that you've established quite well that you don't want to talk then..."

"I'm glad we understand each other," Harry said, with a disdainful smile.

:+:

Ginny, after a number of years, got used to seeing that Harry and Malfoy no longer hated each other with the passion that they had in their school days. Perhaps there was just too much going on right now, what with Voldemort growing steadily stronger everyday.

But she could always tell when Harry was greatly aggravated by Malfoy - which was often. It seemed today was one of those days. She could see them talking at their desks on the other side of the room; Harry's voice held thin patience that didn't seem to be lasting long, and Malfoy's was calm and amused. Of course, it wasn't always like this. There were times that Malfoy lost his control over himself because, even though he said so often that he was, Malfoy wasn't perfect.

Ginny had always known that, in the years that she had gone to school and he had made it a career to humiliate her family. But now perfection seemed more evident here, since he didn't have a horde of Slytherins trailing him as he had at Hogwarts.

Not necessarily imperfection when it came to looks. Although Ginny didn't like admitting it out loud, even though his features were slightly pointed, Malfoy was surprisingly handsome.

He kept his outer appearance confident enough, with the clothes and the money and striving to never show emotion. But he wasn't always good with that, and Ginny had been able to see who he really was.

Like the way that he had suddenly been oddly civil toward Harry. He'd never had reason to before, and now that he was it was slightly off putting. What had really caused him to change? There was the fact that he and Harry had been working closely together for nine years, but was that really enough to seriously change someone?

No, Malfoy wasn't seriously changed, just slightly toned down a bit. Re-modified almost.

And there were things in particular about this new Malfoy that she didn't like.

How every morning he would saunter in, as though he owned the place, and then proceeded in boring Harry with some story about a new "chick" (as he called them) he had met. Ginny never heard the end of these stories. She always got sick of it and turned back to her work before the end.

And there were little things he'd do; things that he knew would get under people's skins. Especially Harry. The only one whom he tried to annoy more than Harry was their boss Sharon, and that was because they had gotten off on the wrong foot early on.

In fact, so had he and Harry.

But still. She'd notice the way he talked to Harry at times. And the way he'd glare at him, his grey eyes narrow slits as though trying to pierce through Harry's skin ane inside right to the other man's soul. And she saw that he did this most often when he thought no one was looking.

Yes, she thought that she had Malfoy pretty much figured out. At least one bit of him that she could peek in at.

Oh, and she didn't like it at all...

:+:

It was one of those occasions that Draco was really truly bored. Potter wouldn't talk to him, and he was stuck reading Perfecting on Perfection by some boring old man that Draco never paid attention to.

But what's new?

Unfortunately, it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. He'd much rather do something more productive. Like doodling stick figures on scrap parchment with magical ink that made them move for about an hour. Although, that wasn't really a very proper thing to do while in the middle of the work office, Draco had been unlucky to find out last year.

Another thing that was not all it was cracked up to be was being an Auror. Because, when you didn't have some crackpot that you were chasing after, there was absolutely nothing to do but dull things like paperwork. Something that Draco hadn't figured out yet was why there was so much paperwork in this job in the first place. If he had known, he wouldn't have started training for the position.

But now that he'd spent that three years he wasn't going to let it just go to waste. And that's the only reason he stayed working for the Ministry.

Or so he told himself.

Being the middle of January, the weather outside of the Ministry was cold and damp and didn't do much to help peoples' spirits. This winter had been the worst in a line of surprisingly cold ones; with temperatures dropping as much as twenty degrees lower than the usual.

And, in the sense of temperature, a difference of twenty degrees could feel like an awful lot.

Draco shivered, despite the office being well heated. He lifted his legs up and gently rested them on the top of his desk, crossed at the ankles. Propping the book up in front of his face he began to read.

Draco could remember his first real assignment with Potter. It had been a January just like this one and he had just turned 23, only several months after they both had completed training. He seemed to have a story-like flashback of the moment as he recollected the day easily.

The cold and frost didn't seem to affect Potter as much as it did Draco. He shivered and his white blonde hair was sticking to his head. He wouldn't have been surprised if there had been icicles it in. He had a large black cloak wrapped around him, but the cold seemed to seep in - engulfing him with the pain of a thousand tiny knives. His fingers were becoming unusable and he crossed them over his chest in an act to try to warm them.

They were in a torn down part of a Muggle town that had been attacked several months before. Few Muggles actually still lived there.

They had been told that the disaster had been caused by a tornado. From the looks of it, one could guess the reason the Ministry chose to tell them this. Buildings that had once stood several stories high were now nothing but rubble. The debris littered the street, threatening with sharp edges of unseen objects.

Draco didn't like this at all.

There was a scream - loud and piercing - it rang through what was left of the town and Draco was suddenly shoved to a stop by Potter's outstretched arm.

His shivering now was not only caused by the cold.

"That's got to be her," Potter said quietly, making sure that he put his wand out in front of him, ready for an attack.

"Are you sure?" Draco whispered shakily as he went for his wand as well.

That had been his one mistake. He hadn't been ready.

As his hand reached into his cloak, they heard a yell and the only thing Draco saw was a bright white light before the spell hit him, knocking him backwards into the littered street.

The pain, which began to spread from his shoulders, seemed to engulf him and he gasped. His body was going ridged - it was hard to control his limbs as he struggled to get up.

Potter was still where they had been when Draco had been hit. He had cast a frightened glance at Draco but there wasn't time to go back for him.

Out of one of the old, beaten shops, a tall, cloaked figure stepped out, laughing coldly at his success of striking down one of the Aurors that was after him.

The woman was still screaming. They were so close now, why and how had it gone wrong?

The Death Eater was still laughing when Potter sent a hex directly at his chest. He stopped, frozen, unable to move.

"Malfoy, can you get up?" he yelled back quickly. "There's more!"

Draco had lost control of his voice then. He tried to choke out that he couldn't move. The words weren't forming and he was succumbed by fear.

As another painful scream emitted, Potter hesitated then ran into the building, leaving Draco lying on the street.

What was he thinking? Draco was out here on his own, unable to use his wand, and apparently there were more Death Eaters around. What was Potter doing?

Draco tried to will himself to at least reach for his wand but the slightest attempted to move caused him to convulse in white hot pain; shearing through his body and ripping at his chest.

This was it, Draco thought. He was going to die.

Stupid Potter could have saved him if he hadn't been reckless and gone in to play hero again and rescue the Muggle.

No, he had to be optimistic. Hopefully, there had only been two Death Eaters. One was down and Potter was obviously dealing with the other.

At least the screams had stopped.

Yes, Potter would take care of the Death Eater, they'd save the Muggle, mind wipe her, Draco would go back to the office perfectly fine, and no one would have to know that he had screwed up.

Feeling slightly better, Draco tried reaching for his wand again but he was overcome by pain again and he stopped. He was beginning to lose his thought, and there were odd patches of black darkening his vision as he began to lose his eyesight as well.

What had that Death Eater hit him with?

And just when Draco was about to black out, he heard a voice.

At first, a surge of relief rushed through him - Potter had come to save him at last.

But the voice had been almost as cold as the air around them, and it hissed from somewhere directly in front of him, although he couldn't see it properly.

Fear gripped at him.

This person knew him - he knew him. But that wasn't Potter.

There must have been more Death Eaters than they had thought.

Draco tried desperately to see through the blackness and he could make out a dark shape of a man.

He knew that voice... he knew that shape; tall, lean, and completely composed.

Why had everything gone so wrong?

"You two underestimated us, didn't you?" the voice said again, moving closer to him. Draco tried not to panic as ways to save himself clicked through his brain.

There were none.

He couldn't get to his wand, he couldn't move, couldn't see; in fact, he was beginning to forget where he had put his wand in the first place. What if it had fallen out?

The man clicked his tongue. "You made the wrong choice becoming an Auror. You could have been great you know?

"But you chose weakness. And I know how badly you think of weakness, Draco..."

And he saw the dark shape move.

And Draco shut his eyes tightly, but it didn't make a difference in the darkness.

Then there was yelling, and a red light overwhelmed Draco's vision, shearing through his closed eyelids.

He waited, but the pain never came and instead there was a muffled thud next to him as a body hit the street. What had happened?

There was more yelling and footsteps. Someone was running.

And then strong warm hands gripped at Draco's shoulders, pulling him into a sitting position. But Draco was beyond pain now and his body ached with numbness.

"Malfoy... Malfoy!"

The worried voice reached deep into Draco, forcing him to keep his consciousness; causing warmth to spread through him again.

Potter had saved him.

Draco could barely make out the figure with messy hair and glasses as his vision hadn't fully returned yet.

But that wasn't the thing that caused an odd emotion to swell in his chest. Neither was the pain or even the fact that he had been saved...

But that Potter was the one who had done it.

Things had never really been the same since.

:+:

It was about eleven-thirty and Draco was on the sixth chapter of his book with nothing more interesting to keep him busy. Potter sat at the desk next to him, working on some papers. His head was bent down in concentration and one of his hands gripped his quill as it moved across the parchment.

Draco watched him over the top of the book, his eyes narrowed in thought.

He had wondered about it many times, but after five years Draco still couldn't figure out why he didn't hate him anymore.

There was a noise at the front of the office that caused him to shift his attention and he looked up as four small paper airplanes zoomed in over their heads.

One made its way to a man in the corner, another to Ginny Weasley, and the next to Potter.

The last one landed on his desk.

SHARON STEMLER - DRACO MALFOY was written on one of its wings in red ink.

Draco took a quick glance at Potter before he unfolded it, his brow furrowed with slight confusion.

Inside was a short letter, written in a familiar tidy scrawl.

Mr. Malfoy:

Come to my office for a meeting in approximately five minutes. I do no you late. I do not want you and Potter bickering when you get here, so make sure you collect yourself before you even think of entering my office.

And don't do anything stupid.

-S.S.

Well, that had been a cheerful little memo. Draco stood up and saw Potter doing so as well.

"What did yours say?" he asked with a raise of an elegant eyebrow.

Potter brushed some dust from his slacks and looked up at him.

"Oh, something about making a fool of myself because of you," he said with a shrug as he hid the letter in one of the desk's compartments and then turned back to Draco.

He tried not to notice that Potter's dark green jumper brought out the color of his eyes.

"So, the usual then?" Draco smirked; at least Potter was paying attention to him again.

His mother had once called him a crazed, attention-loving fool.

Over the years, he had decided that it was true.

Potter gave a small laugh that lit up his face, his lips curling into a smile and he started to walk out of the office.

"Yeah, something like that," he said as Draco followed.

It was common knowledge that their boss, Sharon, didn't like either of them.

They both made their way to her office with the other two who had gotten letters. Draco doubted that theirs said things like his and Potter's had.

Ginny Weasley had quickly squirmed her way into the rank of the best Aurors in the department. Sharon seemed to favor both her and the man that followed.

Graham Pitchard, just shortly behind her, was about three years younger than Draco. He was tall, good looking, and his dark hair contrasted with eyes so grey that even Draco's would be jealous.

In fact, he was jealous. Damn that Graham. Draco muttered to himself quietly, earning a cocked eyebrow and a strange look from Harry.

The office they entered was large and well kept. An oak desk was off to the right side and a bookshelf on other. The window in the back had a jungle scene magically placed there.

The woman in the middle of the room looked greatly irritated. She was short and squat, her dark hair pulled up into a tight bun and she tapped her high heels impatiently on the ground.

She shot both Draco and Potter a very aggravated look, not even paying attention to Weasley and Pitchard.

"You two are late," she said.

Draco's mouth fell open and beside him Potter made an extremely indignant noise l his throat.

However, Draco knew not to comment so he forced himself to remain silent.

The woman stopped her (in Draco's opinion-which was the only opinion that ever mattered... to him, at least) greatly irritating foot tapping and walked around to sit in her desk.

"But now that you are here," she said briskly, "I'd like to get right to the point."

And with this, four chairs appeared in front of them.

Pitchard was the only one who didn't sit down.

;Why did you want all of us, Sharon?" he asked stiffly, glancing at both Draco and Potter who were sitting in chairs next to each other.

"Because, well - I'm sure you all have heard of the big meeting that's going to be coming up in two weeks, am I correct?" she asked, folding her hands on her desk. They were devoid of any rings.

Draco wasn't surprised that she wasn't married yet. He couldn't stand her.

Then again, just because Draco didn't like a woman wasn't really saying much.

But the reasons for that aren't relevant just yet.

"Oh yes," Draco said, quite cheerfully, "Have you decided who'll be going to that just yet?"

She didn't look at him and continued to watch Pitchard. "Mr. Malfoy, if you would let me proceed, I will not have to punish you..."

Draco mumbled under his breath and crossed his arms over his chest as she went on.

"This meeting," she stressed, "is to bring together Aurors worldwide to discuss the arising issue of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Everyone will meet in one city to hold the council. Only the best Aurors will be attending..."

She paused, her face looking as though she would have rather ripped out her tongue than finish her sentence.

Everyone stared at her and the room was silent for a moment. Potter's arms were resting on his knees and Draco's were still crossed, his lips were slightly pouted.

Then Sharon took a breath.

"You four have been chosen to represent our Ministry," she said tersely.

Draco stared at her. She couldn't be serious...

No one said anything and she continued.

"I did have some... objections to the choices," and here she looked at Potter and Draco, who had both shot each other surprised glances. "But the Minister assured me it would all be for the better."

If Sharon ever seemed more annoyed by him than she usually was, it was now.

The four of them stared. Potter seemed mildly surprised - Pitchard, on the other hand, didn't. Draco knew why, of course. He was easily one of the best Aurors in the department.

Weasley was the first one to speak up. "Where is it going to be held?" she asked.

Sharon scowled and the muscle above her left eye gave a twitch. Draco smirked at the movement but said nothing.

"Have any of you ever heard of Las Vegas?" she asked darkly.

This caused various reactions from each person. Weasley shook her head back and forth and Draco continued to stare.

Potter however, let out an almost automatic "yes," and Pitchard laughed.

"You're kidding," he said, as if hearing the world's funniest joke. Potter looked at him and smiled slightly. Apparently, he knew why Pitchard was laughing.

But Draco did not.

He looked at them and then to Sharon.

"I'm not, Graham," she said finally.

And he seemed almost outraged at this. The one thing Draco hated about him was how seriously he took his job, and right now he seemed extremely serious about something.

"You're sending us, on a meeting about You-Know-Who, to Las Vegas?" he said incredulously.

Draco was still confused.

"What the hell is Las Vegas?" he asked with confusion and Weasley nodded along with him.

Potter turned to Draco, smile playing on his lips.

"It's also deemed 'Sin City'. It's a popular Muggle vacation destination. Although I can't see why they'd send us there, of all places..." his deep green eyes settled on Draco, who suddenly felt uncomfortable.

Draco's stomach did a flop. He still didn't get it. He didn't like when he couldn't understand things.

"He's right, Malfoy," came Sharon's voice and Draco shook his head slightly and turned to her. "And the most likely reason that you're not familiar with it is because you've live your whole life in the magical world. Both Potter and Pitchard, if I'm not mistaken, grew up around Muggles."

"So..." he said slowly, "you're sending twenty witches and wizards, am I correct, to a - a Muggle vacation spot?"

Draco hated Muggles. This didn't seem to make sense to him.

"Which is completely and utterly ridiculous," Pitchard cut in angrily and stepped forward. "You can't send us to Las Vegas, of all places in the world to go!"

His dark eyes flashed and he was glaring at Sharon. She looked up at him, her expression unchanged, her lips holding a small, amused smile.

"It wasn't my choice Graham. And besides, would you care to tell me why you have such objections?" she asked in a quiet voice, trying to calm him.

Graham Pitchard was the only one in the department whom Sharon called by their first name.

He looked dejected. "Because we'll never get any work done there! Everyone will be distracted by... by strippers and alcohol," he finished quickly.

His cheeks were tinged pink.

Draco suddenly sat straight up in his chair with a lopsided grin pasted on his face.

"Strippers and alcohol, you say? I'm beginning to like this place already..."

Potter shot a disgusted look at Draco, who then decided to keep his mouth shut.

Pitchard was motioning to him.

"Don't you see what I mean? They aren't going to want to attend in the first place, and they'll be too tired if they do, because they'd have been out all night doing God knows what..."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're just getting your knickers in a bunch because you don't have a life, Pitchard," he shot.

Everyone seemed to ignore him, aside from Potter, who smirked (he had gotten that from Draco, of course).p>

It was quite suiting on him, actually.

"Graham, I'm sure it's going to be perfectly fine. In fact, I give you permission to make sure that it stays that way."

Draco looked at her, his eyebrows pinched in the center of his forehead.

"If either of these two," she didn't turn to look at Draco but everyone was aware of whom she was talking about, "act up, you have the right to deal with them as you see fit..."

And then she cast Draco a very satisfied smile as his eyes widened.

"What do you mean by that?" Draco asked suddenly, and Potter looked over at raised eyebrows at Sharon as well.

"I mean exactly what I said."

Draco's eyes narrowed and he glared at her, sitting back in his chair indignantly.

Well, then. He'd just have to make sure that if Pitchard tried to pull anything, there'd be hell to pay.

:+:

Sharon had informed them that they'd be leaving the next day. Weasley had asked why there was such short notice and she had said it was because they wanted the Aurors to leave as soon as possible.

Draco thought she secretly had been putting off telling them simply because she didn't like him.

Her hatred for him had really started early on. During his training, she had been the first one Draco was successful in ticking off.

He'd been working on Unforgivable Curses when she had come to inspect him.

Draco had been standing on the sidewalk in front of a house with Potter. Of course, no one lived there; it was just a part of their training.

He'd been taunting Potter with the usual insults and he of course, retaliated with a string of his own as she walked up.

"Aren't you two a little too big to be insulting each other like such children?" she asked.

From that exact moment, Draco knew he didn't like this woman.

Not one bit.

Didn't everyone know that he and Potter were constantly at each other's throats? It was practically the law.

His pale lip curled maliciously.

"Aren't you a little too big for a sidewalk?" he sneered, as he glared at her.

Draco could tell that even Potter thought that had been going too far as he had suddenly reached over and grabbed Draco's arm almost in shock.

He still thought about that sometimes...

Immediately, Sharon's face twisted with fury, which seemed to be pushed down because within seconds she was staring calmly at him.

"That'll be fifty points taken from you, Mr. Malfoy. And I hope that you do realize that in order to pass this particular test, you must have one hundred and fifty...."

Draco had marched off towards the house, his face tinged pink with anger.

That had been the only test that Draco hadn't passed with honors.

So now, whenever Sharon got the chance, she tried to make Draco's job hell.

That night, as he packed his things, he prayed to every God he could think of (he included Merlin in this, although technically he wasn't a God) that Sharon would not be attending this with them.

Because Hell would freeze over before he'd ever enjoy her company.