Second Time Around

Spells Misfired

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Spells Misfired

"I don't tell anyone about the way you hold my hand

I don't tell anyone about the things that we have planned

I won't tell anybody, won't tell anybody

They want to push me down, they want to see you fall"—Parachute, Cheryl Cole

To put it lightly, Draco woke up.

He rubbed his eyes and blinked, sure he'd heard incorrectly. They didn't just call his name from the cup. Boy-Wonder obviously, but him? Nah.

"Draco Malfoy, can you please make your way through the doors?" Dumbledore said quietly, but his voice was seething. Not one, but two underage students got across the age line and slipped their names in. If Draco weren't involved, he'd be laughing at the irony.

"This is a joke," he murmured.

Beside him, Theo jabbed him in the ribs. "Go!" he hissed. Draco mindlessly got up and walked off. No one jeered as a few had done for Potter. No one dared to. They were all in shock.

Potter stared open mouthed at him. Draco glared. "What's everyone staring at?" he snapped and some first year Ravenclaws shuffled away. He and Potter made their way into the double doors where Krum and Delacour were waiting. Only one thought really crossed his mind at this moment. His father was going to kill him.

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Hermione waited anxiously at the boy's dormitory for Harry to emerge. All the stress of that ridiculous ceremony must have left him exhausted since he didn't get up till late.

She couldn't remember much of what happened the night before at the Goblet's unveiling. After Harry and Draco disappeared, the whole hall burst out in noises. The Gryffindors cheered, for Harry, most of them at least. Ron got into a sulk and stormed out, Hermione had a feeling there was going to be some problems between him and Harry. Ron was known for his jealousy and childishness at times. Last year's rat fiasco was a perfect example of that.

The Slytherins seemed happy that Draco was picked. Of course, some seventh years looked angry and that left Hermione more than a little worried as she remembered the hazing Draco received in second year from older Slytherins for threatening to sleep outside the Gryffindor common room - the first and last time he ever called her a Mudblood and meant it. She only hoped he would receive the same congratulations that Harry had received.

Thinking about Draco made Hermione's stomach twinge. He'd looked so furious, she didn't believe for one second that either of them had entered their names. Draco was notoriously lazy. Unless it was Quidditch, he didn't exert himself for anything he thought beneath him. Sweating and running for his life from merlin knows what for a few galleons when his inheritance alone was seven times that amount counted as useless to Draco. He was planning on a quiet year. They both were.

And his health? Hermione never spoke about it with him, because she felt it wasn't her place to ask, not with Draco. He had Nott anyway. But it didn't mean she didn't notice. How was this tournament going to affect him? Just thinking about it made her heart stop, she was so worried.

Suddenly, Harry emerged from the dormitory and immediately Hermione was filled with guilt. Here she was worrying herself sick over Draco, had she forgotten Harry was entered too? How could she forget?

"Hello," she said, holding up a stack of toast, which she was carrying in a napkin. "I brought you this...Want to go for a walk?"

"Good idea," said Harry gratefully.