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Passions at Hogwarts by psyche752
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Passions at Hogwarts

psyche752

Title: Passions at Hogwarts.

Rating: G, so far

Author: Psyche752 > animus_dei@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize.

A/N: I don't usually do these but I thought I'd explain what I'm trying to do with this fic. I'm a strong D/G, H/Hr shipper and for a while I've thought about trying to do the two ships in one. This is the result. Because I'm trying to pull together so many characters I've chosen to mark out changes in perspective with **. Hopefully (!!) it should be obvious the whose perspective is dominant…Please read and review so I can make the next chapter better and, cause really, it gives me a happy!

**

Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. This year was going to be awkward. He looked deeply into the mirror, frowning as a dirty crack marred the purity of his reflection. He followed the seamy line, tracing the rough edge with his finger as it tapered from the upper right hand corner to the lower left. He stared into his own eyes. He stared so hard that he could see himself reflected in the depths.

He didn't know what he could see.

It had been a fraught summer in the Malfoy household. His father had been away a lot. His mother was frightened, he could see it in her pale eyes whenever she glanced at the clock showing Mr Malfoy's destination "Unknown". That was nothing, he reflected, compared to the fear he read in her expression when, much worse, the hand slowly ticked across to "Home". When his father had returned, Draco had noticed his face was paler, his eyes darker and his hand swifter to strike.

Draco was sure that if he could just make his father smile, just once, proudly, then everything would be better. If he could be a better Slytherin, a better wizard, a better servant to…But no, his father didn't trust him. Even though everyone knew that the Dark Lord had risen, Draco had learned this detail from Potter before his father.

Draco's hands gripped the sides of the ceramic basin, as his body shook with motion of the train. He carefully spat into the plughole, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and, with one last appraising look at himself, pushed his way out of the toilet.

As he slammed the door back, he found himself confronted by a small ginger witch. She stared at him levelly. Draco found her gaze unerring and took great pleasure in pushing her against the wall, pretending the motion of the train had dislodged him. The girl fell awkwardly against the wall, banging her temple. Tears washed her eyes as she stared at him. This time her gaze was easy to read. Hate. Draco looked down at her and breathed it in. This was what he needed. This would make his father proud. He would earn his place at the Malfoy table. He would pay for this honour with as much hate, tears and blood as were necessary.

"Watch yourself, Muggle-lover. You almost touched me" he spat.

Ginny stared up at him, the pain in her head and arm coalescing. A dark rage filled her veins as she levered herself up, bracing her body against the opposing wall.

The walkway plunged into sudden darkness. A sudden pop, a vigorous sway of the carriage, and then the familiar "shud-up-shud-up-shud-up" of the train. Ginny felt her ears pop and the train rushed through the tunnel. The flickering strobe lights did little to illuminate her way, and when daylight rushed back through the window, Draco was gone.

"Next time, Malfoy" she said grimly.

***

Harry sat next to Hermione in the Great Hall. Breakfast had just appeared on their plates but neither could summon up much of an appetite. They watched, mouths open in dismay, as Draco ranted at a poor Slytherin First Year who had dared to sit in the seat he wanted.

"He's such a bastard" muttered Hermione.

"Hermione!"

"He is" she affirmed mutinously.

"He's got much worse this term" said Harry "Don't you think?"

As they watched, Draco grabbed the poor girl by the front of her robes, holding her face inches from his own. Even from across the room, Hogwarts winced in unison as his words subdued her into a painful wince. She whimpered like a caught animal and tried to pull away from him. Crabbe and Goyle were silent either side of their leader, even the rest of the Slytherins had the grace to avert their gaze. The rest of the Hall was stunned.

"That's it" said Harry grimly. Grabbing his wand in a firm grip, he started to rise from his seat.

"Harry" hissed Hermione, clutching at his robes.

"Hermione" he said warningly. He wasn't going to hear any lectures on ignoring bullies this time.

"sit inanimus corpus numine deorum. Este" she hissed.

"Hermione!" this time frustrated.

"Obstupefacto" she amended.

He grinned. "Thanks."

**

Draco was in his element. All the rage, passion and dark emotion that swirled around his brain whenever his father was near, bottled up deep within his body, was finding an outlet. It was only his second day back at Hogwarts and already he'd picked more meaningless fights than he could count. This was his first of the day however. He was thoroughly enjoying himself. It was raw. It was real. It was better than flying. Mid-rant Draco was aware of nothing. He'd even forgotten the meaningless excuse he'd generated to yell at this girl. Nothing mattered but the freedom he felt, the fear he could see, could smell-

Stars, blotches of light swam across his vision. As Draco's head connected with the wall, his brain registered the words "Obstufacto". A fleshy thud connected with his torso and looking down, Draco saw Goyle slumped across his lap. Shaking his head, he pushed the boy from his body. The passion was rising in him again. Looking about for the source of the spell he saw Potter standing stern across the table. Goyle had absorbed most of the spell - Draco was unconcerned, that's what he was there for - but he still felt a little lightheaded.

"Back off Malfoy" stated Potter. He looked calm but his voice held the tension of anger repressed.

"Or what Potter?" taunted Draco, feeling a little hysterical. His eyes flashed maniacally. "Or what?" he asked again. Something in his expression caused Potter to take a step back. Draco felt the power of impending victory surge through his soul. "Get out of my sight or I'll finish off that scar and slice your head in two" he spat.

"Calm down Malfoy" Potter said. The Weasel had come up beside him, wand drawn. "Sit down and eat your breakfast. Leave the kid alone."

Draco opened his mouth to respond but, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dumbledore amble into the Hall. He shut his mouth. He knew which fights to pick. Sitting down in the dispute seat, he never let his eyes drift from Potter's.

Dumbledore's voice, gentle and lilting sang through the air, smoothly dispelling the tension. "Ah, kippers" he exclaimed. "My favourite."

**

Harry went back to the Gryffindor table, shaking slightly.

"Bloody Hell" said Ron, looking pretty flustered himself. "I sleep in on the very morning you choose to do battle with a seriously unhinged Ex-Ferret…!"

Hermione looked at him and raised a pointed eyebrow.

"OK, so I sleep in a lot" Ron conceded. "Still" he grumbled, his eyes flashing humorously "I miss all the fun!"

"Are you alright Harry?" asked Hermione.

"I'm fine." Said Harry quietly. This was the way it was going to be for him this year. Over the summer he'd had a lot of painful time to think about what had happened with Voldemort, the Tri-Wizard Cup and- no, he couldn't think his name. He knew that, despite Dumbledore's speech, a lot of students still held him responsible for the death. A lot of Slytherins considered it prime material for verbal assault. But, and he'd come to the conclusion that this was the only way, if he was to move forward, Harry had to take something from those horrible events. He wanted to give meaning to such a noble sacrifice.

When he'd been to visit Ron with Hermione at the end of the holidays, the three of them had discussed this situation with about as much frankness as he could bear. Away from the choking Weasley sympathy, however well meant, tucked away in the garden, they had held court. To his surprise, Harry had found Hermione to be the best listener. Harry knew, with every fibre of his being, that Ron would defend him to the end. Ron could make him laugh and forget his problems. However, when the topics turned to embracing those problems, Ron started to bluster and blush.

"It wasn't your fault Harry" he'd repeat in a stammering cycle of embarrassment.

Harry knew. Well, he knew deep down. He'd spent a lot of time alone, in silence on Privet Drive. He needed help not comfort.

And here, Hermione, as so often before, had come into her own. She'd listened without flinching and silently offered tissues when his eyes watered and Ron had looked away. She'd changed the subject when a teary Mrs Weasley had begun a rant about "poor Harry". She'd heard him describe the sheer powerlessness he'd experienced at the hands of Voldemort, the residual guilt he felt, and his fear about the future. Then she'd turned to him and said this.

"Harry, this is the fourth time you've faced Voldemort, the fourth great showdown between good and evil. The first times you won. This last time you came away alive. You've done amazing things Harry. Don't ever forget it. But don't ever forget, not for a second, that this isn't just your fight. Maybe it's destiny that the showdowns are always between you and Vodemort, I don't know. But I do know that in-between, now and next term, you're not alone. We can take tiny steps to a bigger goal. You've got a lot power Harry, you are a great wizard. We need to stand up every time that evil threatens. We need to stop the bullies, Slytherin or elsewhere. We need to make sure that Voldemort can't make friends with the souls of our classmates. We need to stand up for the innocent and the oppressed on whatever scale, and Ron and me will be right with you."

Then she'd blushed prettily because she'd been carried away by the passion and earnestness of her speech.

Harry had blushed with her. He'd blushed because it was hard to hear such open emotion and pride, especially with the Dursley's as a blueprint. But he'd also been forced to think. And he decided that she was right. That the battle against Voldemort could be a day-by-day way to break down the weakness he was feeling.

And so he'd taken on Draco even though the battle wasn't his own. Because the battle was his.

He looked down at his breakfast, suddenly ravenous, and caught sight of Ron trying to fit as many kippers as possible in his mouth at one time.

**

Further down the table Ginny Weasley watched her elder brother with an amused mix of contempt and fascination. 'Boys' she thought exasperated. Exasperation turned to revulsion in one swift minute as several of the kippers, have chewed, escaped Ron's jaw and fell to the table.

Ginny turned her attention to her own breakfast and the conversation around her. Nibbling on a piece of toast she listened idly to her friend Elissa babble about the Quidditch matches this year. In the back of her mind she was turning over the dramatic events of this morning. Draco was losing it. Ever since he'd pushed her on the Hogwarts Express she'd kept an especial watch on him. She didn't know what she was waiting for, or did she. 'Revenge' she thought grimly.

"GINNY" Elissa whispered loudly in her ear. "Is there anybody home?"

"What?" she asked, startled. "Oh! Sorry"

"Never mind" said her friend cheerfully "I'm not that interesting!"

"You're not wrong there" snapped Ginny.

"Woah" said Elissa, holding up both hands defensively. "Quite a sharp tongue you've cultivated over the holidays."

When Ginny saw her friend's ivory complexion mist over with the red tint of embarrassment, she blushed herself.

"I'm really sorry" she amended. "I got out of the wrong side of the bed. I didn't mean it."

Immediately her friend forgave her, and tucking a short strand of brown hair behind her ears, Elissa smiled mischievously. "So, what were you thinking about that was so important? No, wait, I can guess. You've developed a crush on Dumbledore haven't you?"

Ginny laughed. "Wrong I'm afraid"

"Snape, Filch, Hagrid…" Elissa gasped in mock shock. "It's not…Professor Sprout… is it?"

Ginny couldn't smother another giggle as she watched the rotund Professor amble up to the head table. "You caught me" she confessed. "It was love at first sight!"

Sobering up, she decided to share her concerns with her friend. Elissa was one of the few Gryffindor girls who didn't treat Ginny with a certain air of suspicion. The Tom Riddle incident had left her few ready allies. Admittedly, she conceded fondly, Elissa couldn't bear a grudge if she tried. Nothing stayed in her excitable head for more than two minutes.

"What do you think about Draco?" she asked casually.

Her friend thought for a few seconds, while chewing on a mouthful of bread. "I don't know" she said eventually.

"Radical" Ginny commented dryly.

"Hang on. I think he's getting more dangerous by the day. I'm very grateful that Harry's got the nerve to stand up to him. He caught me once you know."

"He what?"

Elissa turned serious. "He caught up to me once, outside, near the Quidditch pitch. I don't know whether I ever mentioned this to you but, well, my brother's in Azkaban" she said, lowering her voice for his shameful secret. "I don't know how he knew but he said some horrible things."

Ginny's blood began to boil at the obvious hurt on her friend's face.

"Mind you" continued Elissa "none of the other Slytherins have mentioned it to me. I can't imagine why unless he hadn't told them…"

Ginny's expression was set. She wasn't prepared to treat this as a concession. Draco had gone far enough. She'd suffered the taunts to herself, her brothers and now her friends. Her sharpened tongue was ready for it's first target. Come what may.