Draco Malfoy's history of poor decision-making continues after the war, when he returns to Hogwarts under strict probation. Bored and restless, he decides to cast the infamous Vanishing Cabinet spell to link his bed with the bed of a willing witch...
Now it's time to take a deep, cleansing breath and pour yourself a hot cup of tea because we're headed to Advanced Divination ...
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Draco stalked through the castle's Entrance Hall on a Thursday evening, scowl firmly in place. He'd been shagging Romilda Vane for two weeks now and it was going well enough. The sex was fine, and he'd figured out how to avoid the constant prattle. Vane required a strict regimen, beginning with a blow job practically the second she arrived. It was literally the only way to shut her up. So he was quite satisfied with that part of the arrangement.
The problem was the Gryffindor witch's utter lack of discretion. Vane was incapable of following instructions unless Draco was physically present to reinforce them. He'd tell her to meet him in the third-floor alcove by the tapestry of Sir Eric the Errant, and she'd wander the fourth-floor corridor, asking all the paintings where to find Sir Eric. Draco would instruct her to wait in the old DADA classroom (which remained the best place despite the pervy heads) and she'd forget which door and check every room in the corridor, occupied or not. When she finally entered the right room, she'd cry "Draco!" loud enough for half the castle to hear. And giggle.
Just an hour before, Vane had wandered into the wrong dark stairwell and started snogging a random blond Ravenclaw. Draco found them there, with Vane halfway to her opening act, saying the boy "seemed shorter today." Draco had to Obliviate the baffled boy with Vane's wand and send him off.
He had nearly ended the whole thing right there, he was so furious. He was on probation and casting forbidden spells, even with another's wand, was incredibly dangerous. Vane was apologetic, then defiant, then terrified when Draco started bringing out the threats. She vowed to be more careful, but it wouldn't last. Draco was angry at himself as well; he'd been a fool to expect discretion from a Gryffindor.
Still steaming, Draco retreated to his bedroom, an opulent suite traditionally available to Slytherin's Head of House. The room had sat empty for decades since Slughorn preferred his huge office on the sixth floor and Snape had lived behind the Potion dungeons. Slughorn had been forced to place Draco alone in the comfortable room since no one would live with a Death Eater, and Draco had enjoyed a few blissful days there, inheriting the sumptuous bed with its brocade canopy and carved darkwood bedposts.
A week later, a second, more conventional four-poster had appeared and was filled with the fourteen-plus stones of Tennant Rowle. Tennant had been off on a drinking bender on the Continent and turned up at Hogwarts without notice, announcing that he wanted to transfer. Happy to settle in with Draco, Tennant lost no time scattering invisible traps around the room (a routine Durmstrang precaution) as well as a dozen mysterious objects made of silver and crystal.
Draco tried to stay out of the room after that, except to sleep. Tonight the space was empty, thank Salazar. He fussily prepared for bed, the home-like routines settling his nerves even if he did have to put away his clothes like a house elf.
