Masterpost: Multi-Chapter Fics

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C5

Justin Finch-Fletchely (Granger mouthed his name from her seat just behind the others) raised his hand and once Draco pointed to him with his long stick—not his wand, an actual stick he found at the edge of the forbidden forest—Justin asked, "So you mean to say that the entire British Wizarding economy is governed by a race essentially being blackmailed into compliance?"

"Yes."

Justin elegantly stated, "That's lunacy."

Draco, who was above pointing out the muggleborns silly little prejudices and stupid little hangups about money, said, "It is not a perfect system."

Wayne Hopkins (Granger mouthed his name when he raised his hand), also a muggleborn and also a Hufflepuff but strangely not on very friendly terms with Justin—Draco wasn't going to bother remember their muggle family names, and he especially wasn't going to go out of his way to learn new ones—said at Draco's nod, "If the goblins run the economy and guard the money, couldn't they just lock the doors and keep you out until you fold to their demands?"

"We don't acknowledge that," Draco smartly responded after two seconds of not-very-deep thinking because quite frankly, he could not care less. The goblins were the goblins and Gringotts was Gringotts, and they did what they did. If they hadn't locked the doors yet, they probably had a perfectly reasonable reason for that and it would be useless of him to waste time worrying. Still, he couldn't say any of that out loud because then he'd ruin the last hour he'd just spent preaching about Gringotts, and potentially his entire insidious plan to go into a ridiculous amount of details would be compromised.

Granger was the next one to raise her hand while Wayne folded over his muggle notebook and scribbled something with an alien muggle pen that scratched the paper with a distinctly odd sound. Granger barely waited for him to point at her before she blurted out, "Can goblins vote in Wizarding elections?"

"Of course not."

"So then, are they a separate nation living on British Wizarding soil?" Draco stared blankly at her and she rephrased, "Do Wizarding laws apply to goblins and Gringotts? Are goblins members of Wizarding Britain?"

"No-yes-no." It was Granger's turn to stare blankly at him, the others in the classroom craning their heads to stare between them, and Draco kindly chose to further explain, "Goblins are not members of Wizarding Britain, but they are not a separate nation with laws of their own and they and Gringotts are still beholden to Wizarding laws." A pause, then Draco, thoughts spinning as he tried to gather everything he'd ever heard about Gringotts into one succinct thought, said, "Gringotts is the last remaining goblin territory in Wizarding Britain, and it has special dispensations in the law to deal with thieves and intruders, and the capacity to self-rule to a certain extent as long as they don't break Wizarding laws."

There. That should do it.

It did not do it.

"But why would they agree to such a thing?" Granger asked, pulling on her hair and scrunching her nose. "Don't they have magic of their own?"

"Goblins aren't allowed to use wands."

"But can't they use magic without wands?" Wayne pointed out, following it up with a silly, "They're not human, right, so why would they use magic like humans do?"

Draco was starting to have regrets. He should have made sure Granger only recruited stupid people, or at least people with little interest in magic. Such muggleborns existed aplenty. "Because magic is magic. Wands is the only proper Wizarding way to use it."

"But, but wandless magic is possible, is it not?" Megan, who hadn't said a word so far, peeped up from her place in the corner.

Draco had more regrets. "It's possible, but it requires a consistent practice and a lot of raw power that most wizards don't have. It's essentially just tricking your magic into thinking you're using a wand to cast a spell."

The students looked at each other, speaking without words. Finally, Granger pointed out, "Then if the goblins have spent so long without wands, wouldn't they have learned how to use magic without them by now? They have magic, so statistically somebody must be powerful enough to have done it."

So many regrets. "Goblins would never share such information with wizards, in that case."

"So then it's possible they have?" Justin thoughtfully said, stroking his chin.

"Yes."

Draco watched them scribble like mad in their notebooks, feeling rather like he'd lost all control over this lesson. In desperation, though he naturally hid id expertly, he consulted his lesson plan and drew his finger along the letters until he reached the point they'd gotten side-lined on. Clearing his throat, he ignored their reactions and jumped right back into his planned lesson with, "In the year 1348, the goblins sent a representative when a Wizengamot hearing was held in a dispute between a goblin of indeterminable status and a minor lord of muggle origin. The muggleborn contested that the goblin had tried stealing all his money, and the goblin contested that the minor lord had broken a contract with them and the goblin was able to commandeer that money well within the full extent of the law."

Boot, the lone Ravenclaw in their little club, said without waiting for his turn, "If a goblin can be taken to court, does that mean they are a legal entity that has rights? But didn't you just say they aren't members of Wizarding Britain, merely beholden to our laws? And then wouldn't that mean that they are not legally allowed to defend themselves or able to go to court?"

What the bloody Merlin was this fool talking about?

Draco coughed, "This event took place before the last great goblin-wizard war, after which the goblins' station within Wizarding Britain changed."

Boot and Granger both made rather concerning humming noises as they all returned to their scribbling. Draco watched them for a moment, then checked the clock and exhaled nearly imperceptibly. "Our time is up. We'll continue learning about Gringotts next lesson on Wednesday, same time." Narrowing his eyes, he emphasized, "Do not be late."

They all, except Granger, bundled up their things and hurried out, chattering as the door fell shut behind them. Draco exhaled again, folding his lesson plan up and spiriting it away into his bag.

After a few minutes, Granger asked, "Do the goblins really not have any legal rights?"

"No. It's why did they sided with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Eyebrows furrowing, she asked, "Did they really? The textbooks doesn't say that."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course they didn't side with him outright, but they certainly never sold a Death Eater out, or allowed their vaults to be searched or anything. Didn't even reveal where the Dark Lord was getting his funds. From the goblins, that's basically a love letter."

"I see."

Looking at her out of the corner of his eyes, Draco sighed. He was not entirely sure what she had seen but he had the feeling that, in keeping with tonight's theme in general, it was something he hadn't intended to show. But nevertheless, Draco wasn't going to lose any sleep over it. He simply puttered around the room for a bit and finally ordered, "Dorry, set it up like we discussed."

"Yes, Young Master!" Dorry energetically squeaked.

Granger followed him out the door, as she was wont to do these days. He supposed that she was probably in awe of him; it was perfectly understandable that she wanted to bask in his presence. It was also understandable that she wanted to be seen with him, however much she might resent that desire. She wasn't stupid, after all, and after this much time she'd surely figured out that Draco was at the top of the social ladder.

Even a mudblood might be able to get somewhere if she hung onto his coattails.

It was nearly ten in the evening, night already fallen. With dinner and lessons over with, Draco drawled a quick, "Good night," and successfully left Granger in the dust. He hurried through the halls, returning to the Slytherin dorms where Greg and Vince were, as expected, waiting for him.

"Are you done?" Vince asked, rising and packing up the game of chess, the chess piecing in turn yelling obscenities. He didn't understand why they insisted on using that particular set; they had no manners.

Greg looked around. "Welcome back, my liege," he solemnly said, saluting and bowing at the same time.

Draco waved a hand. "You've done excellent work, knight," he said, glancing around. The hall was empty and nobody was around to see him indulge his minion's whims, something that happened with distressing regularity. He was pretty sure it was alright though; the books he had about raising pets emphasized the need for positive reinforcement and indulging in the need for play. It was, apparently, vital for health.

Hmm. Maybe that was Theo's problem? Maybe Draco wasn't playing with him enough? It had been a since Theo had done anything but studying.

Hmm. Worth considering.

Inside the dorms, the fires were lit and the torches cast long shadows. Most of the chairs were occupied, it was getting into autumn proper and night fell earlier and earlier every day. Draco spotted a few older Slytherins he had more than a passing acquaintance with (they'd run in the same circles his entire life) but he did nothing more but nod to them. It wasn't exactly a matter of hierarchy, since Slytherin didn't really work like that, but rather it was more a matter of respect of the power he'd one day have.

Also, Draco had connections to like every single person in Slytherin, even the few muggleborns, and nobody wanted to see how many strings he could actually pull. Draco didn't either, but for a different reason; if he started pulling strings and some of them didn't respond, everybody would know.

At present, the hypothetical power he had was worth more than the actual he'd have once he started pulling his weight.

So he wasn't actually doing much with his 'power'.

Aside from, well, his devious scheming to screw with the naïve muggleborns. (He sort felt an evil laughter coming on at that thought, but he successfully held it in. Mad laughter might be acceptable in Slytherin due to the Dark Lord's precedence, but Draco didn't have the looks or the magic to pull it off. People would just end up laughing at him.)

Regardless of his treasonous actions tonight, the night passed very nearly peacefully, and Draco was up at dawn the next day. He shuffled to the common room on slow feet, descending the stairs with one hand on the railings lest he trip, and plopped onto the softest, bestest chair in the room. It was hidden in an alcove and had an excellent vantage point and the Slytherin prefects were always battling for the seat.

Yawning, Draco didn't bother hiding it.

His eyelids were slow to blink, the movements sedate, but when Theo shuffled down the stairs some ten minutes later Draco had almost convinced his body he was awake. "Theo," Draco called before Theo could leave.

Theo twitched. "Draco?" he, too, yawned. Unlike Draco, he hid it.

Draco rose, shuffling over and pulling on Theo's sleeve. "Breakfast," he muttered. He was going to say something else, but quite frankly he was having some issues remembering it. He'd woken twice, twice, due to Theo's nightmares and mostly he was disappointed in himself. He had very evidently not done a good enough job taking care of Theo, and he was having none of it anymore.

"Come with me," Draco clarified when it took Theo a strangely long time to move.

At last, Theo twitched again and they set off.

Draco took a moment to gather his thoughts in the dark hallways, the smell of lake-water and potion ingredients drifting through the magical air-currents. After a while, when they'd ascended a level or two and were getting closer to the Hufflepuff dorms, he said, "You're not playing enough."

"Playing enough?" Theo's eyebrows furrowed and his nose scrunched.

Draco was nice enough to look past his slow mind and clarified, "Pe-ople need to play and have fun to remain in good health. I was thinking, since my protection isn't enough to defeat your nightmares, maybe the solution is to that you need to play more."

"Play more?" Theo's mind seemed to have gotten stuck.

That was okay, Draco could pull his leash. "Yes, play more. So you're joining me with Granger today. We're having another preview class for my master plan. You can sit in the corner and laugh at their silly questions."

"Master plan?"

At this point, they'd exited the dungeons and were approaching the Great Hall and, as expected, Draco saw Granger's bushy hair disappearing inside. She was the kind of weirdo that would wake up early every day and do homework while eating breakfast and Draco had seen enough of her to know that she would relish the opportunity for another source of information to interrogate.

"Just come with me," Draco said to Theo after a beat too long, pulling the boy with him to the Gryffindor's table where only a handful of people were sitting, spread out far and wide. Granger was in her usual seat on the edge and he wondered if she sat there to seem less lonely.

It didn't really work.

"Granger!" Draco called and her head shot up.

"Malfoy?" she gaped, then saw Theo and gaped even more. "What are you doing here?"

"Theo's joining us in class tonight, get him up to speed." At Granger's confused look, Draco rolled his eyes and drawled, "It's fine, Theo likes homework too." Theo's confused expression, mixed with his visible exhaustion, even caused Draco to expand, "This is for his own good."

Neither of them seemed to be comprehending his secret signal of have fun and play, so Draco just abandoned them and ate breakfast on his own. It was fine, they'd figure it out. After a while they even left the Great Hall together so Draco figured his mini-scheme was successful and left it at that. Instead, he focused on making sure he got enough nutrition and then left to find somebody to antagonize.

It was ridiculously early, even though dawn was also later and later every day, and Draco was suffering from some persistent sleep interruptions. He'd been too busy to properly wield his power and he was starting to feel a little out of practice.

Spotting a target, Draco rose from the bench and swaggered over to his pathetic cousin shoveling food in her mouth without any manners or elegance whatsoever. She also looked like a boy at the moment, but Draco knew what Black family magic felt like. She couldn't hide from him.

"Draco?" she muttered with a mouth full of food.

Draco scoffed. "Don't you have any manners?"

She swallowed, brushing a hand over her short, sparkly blue hair and sitting up straight. "Are you talking to me?" she asked for some inane reason.

Rolling his eyes, Draco kicked the bench across from her. "I'm certainly not going to talk to you if you're insisting on eating like a pig. You're not a Weasley."

"Right."

The pause was long and it would probably be awkward if Draco wasn't Draco (in other words, amazing) but as it was he simply said, "You're a disgrace to your family and should be ashamed of yourself."

"My... family?" her eyes widened. Was she sick? He was not going to stick around, no matter how much he wanted to annoy someone, if she was sick. She'd probably have dragon pox and happily use it to kill him off so she could get the lordship.

"The Black family," he said, rolling his eyes and scoffing at the same time. The stupidity.

She blinked. Her eyes widened even more and her hair lit up bright pink. "The Black family."

"Oh Merlin, I'm related to an idiot," Draco groaned in despair. She didn't even manage to respond to that, her mouth so open it'd catch flies, and he decided that this conversation was a lost cause and removed himself before he got infected by her idiocy.

Shuddering, he hurried out of the Great Hall.

Vince and Greg were just on the way in and saluted him when they passed each other but wisely didn't try to talk to him. He was annoyed enough that he'd probably blow up at them and that was bad leadership. His father always emphasized the need to always be in control and never blow up at minions; it made them think they had a chance to grab the leadership for themselves.

Draco hustled outside, the cold morning air sinking knives into his cheeks, and took a deep breath. Tilted his head back and stared up at the white sky, the sun utterly disguised. Inhaling again, Draco hurried behind a tree and plopped down out of direct sight from the castle.

"Bloody Merlin," he muttered, pulling out his wand and casting a quick warming charm on himself. First Theo's nightmares didn't stop, then it turned out his cousin was an idiot?

Today was not a good day.

At least the lesson yesterday had gone well. It might have gotten offtrack and they'd started talking about strange things with their silly muggle brains, but no-one seemed to have caught on to his wicked plan. He was sure he could still get at least four lessons just out of focusing on the goblins and Gringotts!

Sighing, Draco waved his wand again and checked the time. He had a class in the greenhouse today which he was mildly looking forwards to (Hogwarts had a lot more plants than Malfoy Manor had) and he wasn't going to be late. Plus all those other classes. Those were probably important too.

He couldn't stay out here forever and once he'd calmed down and realized that he probably shouldn't have interacted with both a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff in plain sight, he groaned and stomped off to the castle. Broke his way inside and hurried along the halls to his first class of the day, falling into beat with Blaise and Vince and Greg who'd all been waiting outside the Great Hall.

Outside the classroom, Potter and Weasley were muttering to themselves, arguing about something stupid probably. Draco eyed them and thought that this was a shining opportunity.

"Going to class on time?" Draco drawled to Potter and Weasley, sauntering up to them and looking down his nose. He sneered, secure in the knowledge that his minions had his back should the pathetic blood traitors actually have the courage to do something to him. "Trying to suck up to the Professor, are we?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Potter blustered, stone-faced in that way he got when he was sure he was right.

Weasley, who's face was even redder than his hair, pointed at Draco and swore, "Like you're not sucking to every Professor in Hogwarts, with your stupid answers and your grades and mentioning your father all the time!"

"Yeah," Potter jumped in but made no contribution himself. Like the definition of his entire existence.

Snorting, Draco said, "I know the answers, so I get the points."

"You should let somebody else answer, but you're selfish just like your father," Weasley growled.

"So? It's not my fault you're too slow."

Weasley growled, baring his teeth like an animal. It wasn't very scary; he looked more disgruntled rat than anything else. Draco outright laughed at him but he was prevented from making a more clever resort (honestly, this interaction was not his best work but nobody would ever catch him admitting that out loud) by the appearance of the Professor.

Draco made a point to raise his hand at every single question, lording his superiority over Weasley's head just to get him to erupt. He wasn't waiting in vain, either, because Weasley interrupted the middle of the lesson with a loud, "Why do you always call on Malfoy?!" at the Professor.

The Professor gazed at him. "Do you know the answer?"

"Well, no, but-" Weasley sank in his seat, face red.

The Professor turned away from him and asked, "Malfoy, your answer?"

Smirking, Draco leisurely answered, spelling it out with baby words just for Weasley's benefit. Such a shame the boy was too busy sulking to pay attention.

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C4

A loud splash drew his attention away from one of his students trying to climb a tree without using hands, to the other side of the slow river. Before he could run over in his worry, a thoroughly soaked head emerged from the water and took a large gulp of air.

"I fell in again, Iruka-sensei!" Kaito gleefully announced to the world at large, his voice almost echoing.

Iruka sighed and answered, "I see that, Kaito-kun!"

Two months into his career as a teacher, and the chakra control exercises had proved to be unexpectedly popular. Apparently, the idea of walking up walls, on water and on top of rooftops was really cool, and the kids had all worked hard to learn it. It helped that as children, they had less chakra, which translated to an easier time learning to control it. This was the reason why they were by one of the rivers in Konoha, some of the kids practicing water-walking, some tree-walking and others learning how to swim in the shallow end.

It had only taken Iruka a few weeks to figure out that teaching them outside of the training grounds like this was much easier if he made clones, as even the illusion of supervision made them behave better.

Otherwise, they would be running wild as soon as he took his eyes off of them.

Another splash signified that another of his students had fallen into the water. Luckily, they had all brought a change of clothing with them, so they wouldn't be getting sick later. A few civilian parents had asked him why they didn't practice with bathing clothes, and had only barely accepted his reason that nobody wore those on missions and so it was better to practice in regular attire.

Iruka stared up at the tree-tops and determined that class would be over in about half-an-hour. He whistled and watched as the many pairs of eyes were redirected toward him. "Half-an-hour left now!"

The kids aww'd and gave him begging looks, but Iruka was not about to lengthen the class for them.

The last time he did that, the Headmaster was furious with him and threatened to place him in charge of detention.

Iruka did not want to be saddled with even more kids, especially ones that he didn't know.

The rest of the class went by fine, even if he had to run to catch four kids that had climbed too far on the trees before they fell down. Iruka dismissed his clones when he felt the time was right and whistled once more. "Get out of the water and change your clothes!"

Fifteen kids soared out of the water like a tidal-wave of doom, cheering and speaking excitedly with each other.

"Iruka-sensei, Iruka-sensei!" one of the kids called out.

He turned to them and rose an eyebrow. "Yes, Ami-chan?"

Ami was coming running at him, holding hands with Chiyo and smiling at him, her eyes practically sparkling. She was dragging the blushing girl behind her, though Chiyo didn't look to be resisting much. "Chiyo-chan managed to stay on the water the whole time! Isn't she amazing?!"

As Ami beamed at him, he could see the gap from where she had lost a tooth. Iruka smiled at them both and leaned down to ruffle both's of their hair. "Congratulations!"

Chiyo's blush darkened further and she ducked her head until he couldn't see her face. Iruka ruffled her hair once more, unable to resist when she was so adorable. "You did very well, Chiyo-chan. I'm proud of you."

She let out a peep and promptly hid behind Ami.

Iruka smiled at them again and then abruptly turned and caught the boy that had thrown himself at him. Kaito stared up at him with rosy cheeks and wet hair, hanging onto to Iruka's waist like a limpet. He announced, "I caught you, Iruka-sensei!"

"You sure did." Iruka rose an eyebrow and grabbed ahold of Kaito, swinging him around until he was hanging upside down in the air, all that held him up Iruka's hands on his ankles. The boy laughed, evidently finding this absolutely hilarious.

Iruka did not understand children.

"Down you go." Iruka said, and dropped the boy from over a meter in the air. Kaito twisted as he had been taught, rolling on the ground in a properly controlled landing.

The boy popped up on the other side with an exaggerated pose, to the cheering of his audience.

Iruka couldn't quite resist laughing, and he shook his head in exasperation. Really, the boy had come so far out of his shell, he seemed to have forgotten such a thing even existed. He also gave him regular heart-attacks, with his utter lack of fear and his determination to be the best possible ninja there had even been, going so far as to perform dangerous tricks all the time, to the laughter of his classmates. It was wonderful to see the kids, even those from different backgrounds, getting along so well, but Iruka thought it would probably give him grey hair by the time he managed to quit at this rate.

Still, they were so adorable and kind, he could never stay mad at them.

"Okay, okay," Iruka called out, getting their attention frighteningly fast. "you all know the way back to the academy from here, right?"

At seeing the many nods, he breathed out in relief and continued, "Then let's all go back now. If you want, you can take this opportunity to practice walking silently."

Again, there were loud cheers and then the kids started running, their footsteps thundering on the ground. When it came to walking, running and generally just moving around without a sound, they still had a lot to learn.

The kids hurried back to the academy to get their things, as they were left behind in classroom before they went on this little excursion. Iruka hadn't wanted to risk their things getting trampled on or destroyed by the water, when most of them didn't have a lot to begin with. Following after them, he made sure all of them went the right way, and observed as they tried to be as silent as possible, sometimes to hilarious degrees.

Some of them were tiptoeing around and walking slowly, as if they were on a tightrope, in order to try to make as little sound as possible. Predictably, it was not going well. Iruka would have to have more lessons on the subject, as it was another thing that had immediately caught the kids attention.

They now thought that in order to be proper shinobi, they had to be able to move without making a single noise.

At least he had managed to avoid any tears from them by assuring them that they had years to master it.

Not many people gave them odd looks as they raced through the village — it was a ninja village — and they made good time back. The kids didn't use the proper entrance to the academy, but climbed over the wall and then rushed into the classroom through the still open windows. Iruka had ceased bothering to close them, when he already knew there was just going to be a lot of begging eyes on the other side that he wouldn't be able to resist.

In the classroom, they grabbed their stuff and congregated into groups, running around each other and laughing as they played some game.

Iruka followed into the classroom after them, settling into his chair behind his desk as they spent several minutes playing — at least, the ones that didn't have to hurry home immediately — before they started to leave, still using the windows as if they were doors. After all of the practice, they had gotten much, much better at it. They had the movement of jumping out the window and landing safely on the other side down to an art form.

With them gone, the classroom was left in eerie silence. As much as he was still panicking every time he had to open his mouth in front of the blackboard, he had gotten used to their presence in the room. It felt a little empty without them.

He sighed, and grabbed the pile of tests they had done first thing in the morning, testing their reading and writing skills. At this point, they had hiragana and katakana memorized and he was wondering when he should start them on kanji. From the tests results, he thought he should probably wait a few more months, make sure that the alphabets they had already learned actually stuck in their heads before he ambushed them with even more.

It didn't take him long to correct all of the tests, as it wasn't a very long or complicated one, and by the time Iruka was done, he stretched his back and cracked his neck, stiff from sitting still. He put the tests into one of the drawers under the desk and rose from his seat with relief. Another day had gone by, and the kids were still alive and in one piece. He counted that as a win.

Hungry after all of that exercise, Iruka left the academy through the proper doors.

He made his way to Ichiraku Ramen, finding himself craving his favorite food.

He yawned as he walked through the streets, covering his mouth as he superstitiously looked around for anything interesting happening. He walked through some side streets, and traveled through the market place, finally arriving at the point where he could smell that tempting scent.

Iruka ducked below the curtain's to the stall and smiled out of reflex when he saw Teuchi-san behind the counter.

"Iruka-kun!" Teuchi-san beamed at him and asked, "Miso ramen again?"

Iruka scratched the back of his neck as he laughed a little stiffly. Apparently he was predictable, which was never a good thing for a shinobi. "Yes, thank you, Teuchi-san."

"No problem, no problem. Sit down!" Teuchi-san moved around the small kitchen and under Iruka's fascinated eyes, made the ramen just the way that he liked it. "Here!" Teach-san set it down in front of Iruka on the counter and beamed at him again.

Smiling, Iruka dug into it immediately, feeling his mouth water at the heavenly smell.

"Thank you!" he said as he picked up the chopsticks.

As he swallowed it down, he found that he was hungrier than he thought, eating the entire bowl in a matter of minutes. As he finished up, he swallowed down the last bit of soup and sighed in satisfaction. Like always, Teuchi was a genius, making it just the that he liked it.

"Another bowl, please!"

Teuchi beamed at him and handed another one over the next second, evidently having expected it. Iruka smiled gratefully at him.

As he finished up with this one and felt his stomach become full, Teuchi asked, "How are your classes going? Any troublesome kids?"

"Nooo." Iruka pushed away the bowl and put his face on his hands, sounding absolutely miserable. "They're amazing, Teuchi-san!'

"Then why do you sound so sad?"

"Because I'm a horrible teacher! I'm going to ruin any chance they have of becoming competent shinobi!" Iruka's head plopped down on the counter with a thud and he groaned in despair. He felt Teuchi pat his shoulder, but still he kept his head down.

"There, there." Teuchi said and insisted, "I'm sure that's just your nerves talking. Don't be so hard on yourself, Iruka-kun."

Iruka smiled at Teuchi without responding.

A hush settled over the stall, before furious mutterings rose around them. Iruka lifted his head and tried to see what the big deal was. There, peeking in around the stalls corner, only his head and adorable bright blue eyes visible, Uzumaki Naruto stared in at them. The boy was tiny (even for his age), with dirt on his cheeks and a curious glow in his eyes.

As Iruka watched, the boy crept in further, until he could see the orange jumpsuit, stained with dirt and dried blood. The boy glared around at everyone that said anything bad about him, and suddenly he was running across the floor on short legs.

He scaled the chair next to Iruka (the only other unoccupied one) like a monkey, swinging himself up until his head stared over the counter.

Iruka felt his heart thudding in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins. It was irrational, and it was stupid of him, but he couldn't help but think of the Kyuubi when he saw this tiny boy, who was even younger then his students. He looked innocent and as Teuchi handed over a bowl of ramen without even asking anything, hr beamed like an ordinary child.

But he wasn't. He had the Kyuubi (the beast that killed Iruka's parents) sealed in him.

Iruka was good enough at sealing to know that the boy wasn't the Kyuubi, but it was a small comfort. Because the Kyuubi was an ancient monster made up of pure chakra. How could a little boy ever manage to supress it?

Even as Naruto gulped down his ramen like he was starving, Iruka found himself unconciously leaning away. It wasn't fair to the boy who so clearly was the Yondaime's son, but he couldn't help it. Fear was never rational, never logical. It was never fair.

He saw the moment that Naruot noticied what he was doing, because the boy twitched and curled his arm protectively around his bowl of ramen. As if he was afraird that Iruka would do something to it.

As if Iruka was heartless enough to take it away.

He tried to smile at the boy. From the way the suspicion in those clear eyes only increased, he guessed that he wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"Well!" Iruka said and focused all of his attention on Teuchi. "I have papers to grade, so I better get going."

He put down a few bills on the counter without counting them and stood up to leave, as so many others in the stall had already done. He felt a little sick when he realized that he wasn't a good enough person to stay in the presence of someone who was only a young innocent boy.

He should be better than this.

He was a teacher, for heaven's sake.

With self-hatred curling in his stomach, he attempted to smile at Teuchi before he left. The fact that Teuchi looked just as disappointed in him as he himself was only made him feel worse.

A tug on his pants stopped him.

Iruka looked down, his bewildered eyes meeting the Naruto's curious ones.

"You're a teacher? A ninja teacher?"

Naruto sounded inquisitive, as if he had entirely forgotten his earlier suspicion. Iruka found himself staring down at a pair of giant eyes, pleading with him. For what, he didn't know.

"Yes." he said, more harshly than he intended.

The boy's grip on his pants tightened. "Can you teach me a cool ninja move? I want to set things on fire! And walk on walls!"

"I..." he found himself staring at an entirely unsympathetic Teuchi, who pretended that he didn't see anything. Iruka gulped and found himself saying, "I can teach you to walk on walls? If you want?"

"Really? You really, really, really will? You have to promise! You can't go back on a promise! Promise me!" Naruto bounced on his feet, his volume getting louder the more excited he got. Iruka watched as the boy almost jumped up and down in glee, the only thing keeping him from flying off gravity.

He found himself saying, "I promise." before his brain caught up with his mouth.

This time, Naruto actually jumped in joy.

Iruka frowned, but he couldn't get out of it now. He had just promised, and he didn't want to be a person that would break them a minute later for no reason but irrational fear. He was a ninja, he had killed people and ruined their lives. He was no better tahan the Kyuubi.

Yet, there was a part him that wanted to see the boy as a montser, as the demon that had killed his parents. Because it would be easier than accepting the fact that they didn't run.

They had him, a son, and yet they hadn't run. They had stayed and sacrificed their lives, leaving him all alone.

Blaming their deaths on the Kyuubi was easier than blaming it on their loyalty.

"Come, come!" Naruto called as he gripped his hand and started dragging him.

Iruka found himself following entirely on reflex, used to this by now thanks to his class. With Naruto leading the way, they left the legendary ramen stall behind them and ended up back on the streets.

The reaction was immediate.

People whispered and pointed, calling Naruto names a child his age shouldn't know. Yet, Naruto's look of exceitment didn't fade. The only difference was how tight his grip became, as if he was trying to make sure that Iruka didn't run away.

Iruka felt distaste well up in his belly, quickly followed by disgust in himself, because he wasn't any better. Even with the boy's fragile hand in his, he couldn't bear to look at him for too long.

Naruto beamed up at him, utterly oblivious to Iruka's thoughts. "I'll take you to my favorite park!"

Iruka would make him a wall-walking champion. It was the least he could do.

PREV | TOC | NEXT

PREV | TOC | NEXT

C2

The next morning, Iruka came prepared. He had read through the textbooks from his years at the academy and thought he had gotten a pretty good picture of what he was meant to teach. Then he realized that those textbooks weren't used anymore, because the Hokage had once more changed the curriculum and felt a little bit like throwing up (it was becoming a familiar sensation), but it was still a good place to start.

With the textbooks contents memorized, he arrived at his classroom a little more than an hour ahead of time. He took this opportunity to grab some more notebooks and pens, as well as erasers, from the storage room and repeatedly going through what he had read the night before.

It was half-an-hour before the school day was officially to begin that the students began trickling into his classroom. One after another, they crept in through the window, settling into their seats like tiny shadows. Pretty soon, they started talking amongst themselves and showing off their skills with the leaf chakra control exercise. More and more of them arrived and Iruka finally had to give up on his own studying in favor of keeping an eye on them.

Once they were all present, he stood up from his seat and took roll-call. With no absences, he announced, "We will be continuing our reading lessons for now."

The following hour went by fine, even if it took all of the control Iruka had to keep what he had memorized in his mind, until he decided that it was time for another lesson when they started looking bored. He cleared his throat and coughed to get their attention.

" ... "

Exactly what had he memorized again? It had had to do with history and the shinobi rules. He had gone over it countless times in his head since classes began, so why couldn't he remember it?!

Blinking rapidly and trying to think of something to say before he lost all of his students respect, Iruka grasped desperately for something to teach them, some knowledge he must surely possess. There must be something! Come to think of it, what was his last mission about? There was an corrupt headman and a suffering village and Iruka had been there to deliver something? No, to sabotage. Right, he had been sabotaging the... windmill? Somehow that didn't sound quite right.

Thirty-one small children stared out at him with large eyes, all of them staring right at him. He could feel his breath coming faster, his heart thundering in his chest. This wasn't good. And he had made that promise to do better until he could finally get an appointment with Hokage-sama and quit. It would be better for everyone. But, until then, he had a duty to perform.

He just had to remember what that duty was.

He turned to the blackboard, so he wouldn't have to look at those trusting faces. His very existence was letting them down. If he hadn't applied to this job, they would have gotten a proper teacher, someone that actually knew what they were doing. With his mind occupied, his hands were moving on their own, drawing something on the board. When he gathered his wits again, he stared at the flower that he had drawn with white chalk. A ricinus communis. Well, at least now he had something to say.

"This," he began and turned back to face his class. "is the Ricinus communis, the most poisonous flower in the world."

Immediately, he saw the students sit up straighter. Their attention was evidently caught.

Iruka smiled, pleased that he was finally able to pass on knowledge, the way he had wanted to when he had decided to become a teacher. "All parts of the plant are toxic, and its beans contain alkaloid ricin and toxalbumin ricin. A single milligram is enough to kill an adult."

Watching the students so enraptured, he couldn't resist drawing another plant on the board and continuing with, "Another poisonous plant is the Aconitum, of which there are over two hundred and fifty species, a traditional tool for killing wolves in the past, giving it the more popular name wolf's bane. In addition to this, we also have Nerium oleander, a highly toxic beautiful flower whose even sap is harmful. It contains numerous toxic compounds, and a single leaf is strong enough to kill a young human adult. It will kill animals within days of ingestion."

"Then we have Abrus precatorius, also known as the crab's eye, a plant which seeds are the most dangerous. The seeds contain abrin, an extremely poisonous chemical that causes damage by attacking the body at the cellular level. That is, a level that can't be seen with the naked eye. The rosary pea isn't dangerous if consumed whole, but if the seed is damaged or scratched, its deadly. There is also Conium maculatum, otherwise known as poison hemlock. It causes death mainly by the alkaloid coniine, that paralyzes the respiratory system, effectively killing the victim within days of consumption by oxygen deprivation. That is, they suffocate to death. It's a popular old assassination plant that has been used for centuries by shinobi."

Iruka was proud to see that most of the students were copying the drawings down in their notebooks, but they didn't have the skill necessary to take notes. Frowning in thought, he wrote the names of them in hiragana next to their pictures to help them along.

Still, despite how enraptured they were by the idea of poisoning people, they were still kids, and sitting still for too long made them fidget and pay less attention. Iruka called for a fifteen minute recess with a fervor when he noticed how many of them were tapping their pencils and looking out the windows periodically. With a cheer, the students rose form their seats, and exited through the already opened windows.

When they were all gone, Iruka put his head in his hands and closed his eyes. He couldn't believe that he had made the same mistake again. Was he just not destined to be a teacher? Was there some divine force out there working against him?

Or was he just not good at it?

He breathed in deeply and opened his eyes again, this time with determination burning in his gut. He had, after filing a lot of papers, managed to get an appointment set up with the Hokage in eight months. That meant that he needed to do his best to teach his students during that time, no matter how poorly he did. He needed to give them a solid foundation to leave to his successor, who would undoubtedly do a better job. And if it was just foundation, surely Iruka could teach it. Surely, he knew this.

Iruka's forgetfulness, his panicking and his fumbling for things to teach had already proven that he just wasn't cut out for this, but the least he could do was teach the kids how to read and write. He owed it to them for his failure.

It wasn't fair, that they were the ones being hurt by his incompetence, so he owed it to them to do his best, no matter how useless he privately thought it was.

He would teach them how to read and write, how to control their chakra and get their physical condition up the minimum requirements. It wouldn't be nearly enough to atone for his mistakes, but it would be a start. Until he could talk to the Hokage, it was the best he could do.

It would have to be.

The kids returned to the classroom once recess was over, dirtied from their playing and with rosy cheeks from laughter. It warmed his heart, that despite the injustices that had been served to them, they were still so innocent, so kind and happy. Iruka was determined that they not learn of his failure as a teacher. It would just be another disappointment of many for them, and he didn't want to do that to them.

They deserved so much better.

So Iruka was going to do his best during the next eight months to make sure that they didn't catch on to his mistakes and mishaps, and hopefully, they would learn something useful.

No matter how insignificant, if he could just teach them one helpful thing... well, it wouldn't fix anything, but it would help. And that was all he wanted, to help them achieve greatness, to teach them how to survive in the cutthroat world they were aiming to become a part of.

Once they were all seated once more, Iruka walked between them and dropped off pencils and notebooks. "These are for homework, to practice writing at home. Just repeat the characters, try writing names, anything you want as long as you practice. If you're unsure what to write, you can always ask for help."

The kids beamed at him, their tiny faces lighting up in pure delight.

How could homework make them this happy? Iruka had always hated it, he had done it and done it well yes, but he hadn't enjoyed it. Even after his... even after the Kyuubi's attack, he hadn't found anything nice about it. But these kids, they looked at him as if he had given them gifts, as if he had purposely lent them pieces of joy. How did that make any sense? How could kids so young equate homework with happiness?

Why did they trust him so much, when he had done nothing but let them down?

Pushing away the despair he could feel closing in on him, he returned his focus to his class. The one useful thing he had managed to do and not forget since yesterday was copy a sheet of paper with all of the hiragana characters, which he now passed out to all of the students. He handed them out and pushed his worry away. He had reached out to all of the people he could and he would neither be getting a copy of the curriculum any time soon, nor be meeting with anybody that might be able to fire him from his wrongful position. He owed it to the village he loved and the kids whose education now depended upon him to do his very best. Better, even.

There was no room for regret. He would do everything he could to teach these kids how to survive, to give them a working foundation, and it would be up to his successor to fix any mistakes he made. Until such a time that he was relieved of his duty, this was his job.

As he watched the kids begin fidgeting yet again, he sighed and said, "Time for physical training outside."

The kids didn't hesitate to throw themselves through the windows. Shaking his head at their energy and feeling the urge to hit himself for his stupidity, he followed along outside and, once he had herded them all to one location, said, "Today, we will be learning how to fall safely. After, of course, that we have gotten warmed up. Start by stretching like I showed you yesterday and then run around the tracks for ten laps, at your own pace."

See, Iruka could learn from his mistakes. He just wasn't entirely sure what other mistakes he had made, because he couldn't remember what he was supposed to teach them. He had never had this problem on any missions or training. In fact, he usually had a pretty good memory, but somehow, the idea of actually standing up there and teaching just made his head go blank. All of the knowledge he had worked so hard to learn just flew away, as if he had never even known it. Yet, when he was home and away from the pressure, he could think again. He could remember what he was supposed to have done.

But as soon as he was back in the classroom and opening his mouth, it left him again. Was this how all teachers felt, or was it just him? Was there something wrong with him? You'd think that after killing people in their own homes, he would be able to actually talk and convey his knowledge to the next generation.

Once all of the kids had finished their laps — nowhere near as tired as yesterday — Iruka climbed up to a branch in a tree and fell in a properly controlled manner. He called up one of the students and began the arduous task of giving each one individual attention to make sure that they all did it right. The last thing he wanted to do was give them bad habits on top of everything else. Well, any more bad habits, because it seemed like the window thing had really stuck. Now they looked at him funny any time he tried to mention it.

"Ami-chan," Iruka said as he repositioned a young girl on the ground. "I know you may want to fall straight to your feet because it looks cool, but without using chakra, you'll break your own bones landing. It's better to learn how to fall correctly without chakra before learning how to dampen it with chakra. That way, if you're ever low on chakra and on a mission, you can move without worrying about damaging yourself, okay?"

The little girl nodded with an adorably stubborn face, her unremarkable brown hair swinging with the motion, as she chirped, "Okay, Iruka-sensei!"

Iruka smiled at her and ruffled her hair gently. "Good. Don't hesitate to ask me if there is something you need help with or are unsure about, 'kay?"

She nodded again, even more viciously this time, and climbed up to a low branch to try again. Iruka couldn't resist smiling. They were really so adorable, it was hard to imagine they would grow up and kill people for a living. Seeing something out of the corner of his eye, Iruka turned abruptly and barked out, "Don't you dare jump from that branch, Kaito-kun!"

The boy, over three meters up in a tree, visibly pouted and whined, "But Iruka-sensei, I already mas-mastered the lower branches!"

"That doesn't mean you can do what you like! The point is to fall so many times it becomes a reflex! Now get down from there!" Iruka realized his mistake a second too late, and the boy jumped from the tree with a loud yell.

Automatically pushing chakra through his legs, and with adrenaline coursing though his veins, he took off from the ground faster then otherwise possible and only just managed to catch the boy before he landed on his face and broke something, probably his neck. Huffing at the unexpected workout, Iruka settled the boy down to his feet and bent down to look him in the eyes. By now, the other kids had surrounded them.

"Don't do that!" Iruka snapped at the boy, his hands still on his shoulders. "Do you know what would have happened?! You'd have broken your neck, and best case scenario, be completely paralyzed! You could have died! Not even a medic-nin can fix that!"

The boy's lower lip began trembling, and tears filled the corner of his eyes. He sniffled once and then started full on crying, his sobs shaking his tiny frame. "I-I'm so-sorry!"

Iruka felt his heart break at seeing such a sad vision. "It's alright now, Kaito-kun. Nothing happened and you won't do it again, right?"

The boy nodded, still crying and Iruka sighed, but hugged him regardless. He'd forgotten for a moment, but these were kids, likely too young to remember the Kyuubi's attack. They would have to learn caution in this, as they learned caution in everything. And it was Iruka's job to teach them.

"Kaito-kun, I'm not mad at you. I'm just worried. What you did was a very dangerous and reckless thing and you can't do anything like it unless I'm right there with you, understand?"

The boy nodded against his shoulder, which was now wet with his tears and snot. "Truly? Do you promise?"

"I-I pro-promise." the boy sniffled out and coughed against him. It was lucky that Iruka had long ago been desensitized of human fluids or he would have likely found it disgusting. As it was, he was just a little bit annoyed that he would have to wash it.

Smiling, Iruka leaned back from the boy and wiped his face with a convenient cloth. When Kaito's face was clean and he had finally stopped crying, Iruka stood up and looked out at the army of tiny children that had gathered around them. "Everything's fine now." he smiled at them and ruffled a few of the kids hair, those that looked the most unsure. "You can go back to practicing now. I promise everything is alright."

The kids lingered a few more seconds with him before they started smiling again and went back to climbing trees. It was amazing, how resilient children were.

Iruka spent the rest of the lesson outside catching several kids when they fell wrong to stop them from breaking bones. He had gotten way more exercise out of it then he thought he would, having to dash from one side of the training grounds to the other within seconds. Nevertheless, eventually, he deemed that they had all grasped the basics and herded them back inside after stretches to get back to reading and writing practice.

The rest of the day went by quietly and it had had the added bonus of increasing his confidence. Maybe he couldn't teach them what the curriculum said he should, but he could still give them valuable knowledge. He wondered if maybe he could sneak math into the physical exercises? It was a thought that bore worth considering.

As the final bell rang, Iruka called out, "Remember to practice your writing! You can copy signs written in hiragana if you don't know what to write. Continue practicing the leaf chakra control exercise until you're confident you have it mastered, and then show me. Once you all know it inside and out, we'll advance to a more fun chakra exercise."

The kids shouted confirmation back at him and waved as they left through the windows. Desperate to try to be a good teacher, Iruka called out, "Ask me if you're wondering about anything! Anything at all!"

He got happy smiles in response and once they were out the windows — not doors, oh god why? — they separated into groups and talked excitedly amongst themselves. It eased his conscience to know that, if nothing else, they were making friends and learning a basic skill such as writing.

It would at least help them with finding another job if they didn't manage to graduate and become shinobi.

Multi-Chapter Fic

• Rating: T
• Categories: M/M
• Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV)
• Relationship: Umino Iruka & Original Character(s), Umino Iruka & Uzumaki Naruto, Momochi Zabuza/Umino Iruka
• Characters: Umino Iruka, Original Characters, Original Child Character(s), Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Orochimaru (Naruto), Uchiha Shisui, Momochi Zabuza, Haku (Naruto), Sai (Naruto), ANBU Root
• Additional Tags:Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Friendship, Kidfic, Fix-It, Worldbuilding, Pre-Canon
• Status: Ongoing
• Chapters: 5/?
• Total Wordcount: 15057
• Published on AO3: 2018-12-31 — Last Updated: 2020-03-14

Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any associated trademarks.

Table of Contents

† C1 † C2 † C3 † C4 † C5 † [C6] † [C7] † [C8] † [C9] † [C10] † † [C11] † [C12] † [C13] † [C14] † [C15] † [C16] † [C17] † [C18] † [C19] † [C20] † [C21] † [C22] † [C23] † [C24] † [C25] †

Summary

During Iruka's first year teaching — on his own, because apparently there is a severe lack of teachers — he loses his curriculum, gets into a low-key fight with Shimura Danzo and accidentally creates an army. To be fair, none of this was planned.

Multi-Chapter Fic

• Rating: T
• Categories: M/M, Gen
• Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
• Relationship: Draco Malfoy/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
• Characters: Draco Malfoy, Tom Riddle | Voldemort
• Additional Tags: POV Draco Malfoy, Slow Romance, Crack Treated Seriously, Rare Pairings, Slow To Update, Work In Progress, Angst with a Happy Ending, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Dubious Morality, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Developing Relationship, Worldbuilding, Fix-It of Sorts, Slow Burn, Power Imbalance, Falling In Love, Age Difference
• Status: Ongoing
• Chapters: 2/?
• Total Wordcount: 6268
• Published on AO3: 2021-12-31 — Last Updated: 2022-01-04

Notes: Rewrite of If Only We Could Smile

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any associated trademarks.

Table of Contents

† C1 † C2 † [C3] † [C4] † [C5] † [C6] † [C7] † [C8] † [C9] † [C10] † † [C11] † [C12] † [C13] † [C14] † [C15] † [C16] † [C17] † [C18] † [C19] † [C20] † [C21] † [C22] † [C23] † [C24] † [C25] †

Summary

During the final battle at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy dies. Luckily, there's a phoenix there that has taken a shine to him. Not so luckily, it sends him back to the summer before his fourth year at Hogwarts, when everything really started to go downhill.

Multi-Chapter Fic

• Rating: T
• Categories: M/M
• Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV)
• Relationship: Liu Sang/Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling,Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling, Wang Pangzi & Wu Xie & Zhang Qiling
• Characters: Wang Pangzi, Wu Xie, Zhang Qiling, Liu Sang
• Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Rumors, Threesome - M/M/M
• Status: Ongoing
• Chapters: 1/35
• Wordcount: 2016
• Published on AO3: 2022-03-21

Notes: this fic exists for one (1) reason

the idea of wu erbai spending years hearing rumors about his nephew and this Random Person™ being super in love is hilarious to me. even more hilarious; wu erbai hasn't been able to confirm it one way or another because liu sang always pretends to misunderstand, or like he's listening to vital information and thus "sorry, I missed what you said"'s him every time. and wu xie? wu xie won't talk to him about his love life!

so wu erbai goes years with these rumors, and then, finally, he sees wu xie and liu sang in the same room together! time to catch liu sang in his lies (bc he never really believed them, it's not like he doesn't know wu xie is smitten with xhang qiling, okay). and then. then.

wu xie. stares like an idiot. and just—is so fucking obviously in love with liu sang.

the second wu erbai is out that tent, he's texting wu xie's parents.

they can finally use their Wedding Plan™!

Disclaimer: I do not own 盗墓笔记重启 or any associated trademarks.

Table of Contents

† C1 † [C2] † [C3] † [C4] † [C5] † [C6] † [C7] † [C8] † [C9] † [C10] † † [C11] † [C12] † [C13] † [C14] † [C15] † [C16] † [C17] † [C18] † [C19] † [C20] † [C21] † [C22] † [C23] † [C24] † [C25] †

Summary

Liu Sang is alone. He has no backup, no connections, no safety net. And in the tomb raiding business, that's never a good thing. So in order to buy himself a somewhat safe position, where he won't be seen as expendable, he begins a rumor that he's dating Wu Xie.

Wu Xie, after all, is the perfect person for the role; he's from a wealthy and influential family, is legendary in the business, and is close friends with Liu Sang's idol. More importantly, he's famously distanced himself from tomb raiding and likely won't ever hear of the rumor. This means that for years, while Liu Sang builds up his own connections and reputation, he has some measure of safety.

And then he shows up at a tomb raid, hired by Wu Erbai (already a risk in itself, but the man has never said anything about the rumor) to find that Wu Xie (and Liu Sang's idol) is there.

...Shit.

• Rating: T
• Categories: M/M, Gen
• Fandom: Naruto
• Relationship: Mizuki & Uchiha Sasuke
• Characters: Mizuki, Uchiha Sasuke
• Additional Tags: Kidfic, Accidental Found Family, Manipulation, Destroying Military Dictatorships for Fun and Profit!, Worldbuilding, Politics, Friendship, Canon-Typical Violence, AU - Canon Divergence
• Status: Ongoing
• Chapters: 1/?
• Total Wordcount: 1852
• Published on AO3: 2022-08-18

Notes: hi. i tripped and fell back into the naruto fandom.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any associated trademarks.

Table of Contents

† [C1] † [C2] † [C3] † [C4] † [C5] † [C6] † [C7] † [C8] † [C9] † [C10] † † [C11] † [C12] † [C13] † [C14] † [C15] † [C16] † [C17] † [C18] † [C19] † [C20] † [C21] † [C22] † [C23] † [C24] † [C25] †

Summary

Mizuki has a mile-long grudge against Konoha—and is now within speaking distance with Uchiha Sasuke.

Things can only go downhill from here.

TOC | [Next Chapter]

Chapter 1: but i asked myself "are there any gods left on this broken rock?" and no answer was found, so i seek now to build myself a new one

"The Dark Lord is definitely in love with me," Draco smugly tells Blaise.

Draco's new plan is going swimmingly.

Blaise looks up from the textbook and says, "Draco, you've never even met the Dark Lord face-to-face."

"So you agree with me that he'd love me if he met me," is what Draco gets from that. Blaise's answering sigh is loud in the dorm room where their beds are located. Blaise opens his mouth, but Draco is ready and he continues, "Really, when you think of it, aren't I the Dark Lord's ideal spouse? I'm rich, from a Noble family, have personal relationships with everybody who's going to be anybody one day." Draco frowns into the air. "I think I'm pretty perfect."

"I hate you," Theo announces from his bed, doing something with runes that Draco doesn't understand. The other boy hasn't even looked up and yet still adds, "Really, you're a bloody lunatic."

"But I'm a lunatic who's going to survive," Draco points out. At that, he receives twin sighs and he merely rolls his eyes in response. They're shortsighted but he will forgive them just this once on account of their long history and support. He understands that this new master-plan might be a little advanced for them to follow, but Draco is convinced that it's the only way out.

Because really, what other option does he have?

Draco's father lost Lord Voldemort's regard with Potter's stunt in the Department of Mysteries. It's been years, and yet he's not once gotten it back, failure after failure piling up. The Malfoy's are wealthy and have both history and the ministry on their side, and yet, it's not enough.

Nothing has been enough.

So Draco's plan might sound silly, but it's a fucking masterpiece and it will fix everything. Obviously.

"Well, if you keep your mouth shut you might be more convincing," says Blaise, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. "If you're truly intending to do this."

Draco's eyes narrow. "Just because I'm better looking than you-"

"You are so not."

"That doesn't mean your jealousy has to overwhelm you. I'm sure if you work at it, you can get better and become a productive member of society."

"You little shit," breathes Blaise. He rises, tossing the book on Theo's bed and hitting Theo's back with his expert aim. Theo yelps, muttering something unflattering, and Blaise glares at Draco. "I am the most handsome man in this whole school."

"Sure. If you say so."

"Will you please shut up, we take our NEWTs in like two days?" Theo grouches from his bed, looking at them with blood-shot eyes below a head full of wild bed-hair. He squints at them, "What time is it anyway?"

"Three in the morning," Draco kindly reveals.

Theo groans, "Why are you two still up? You're not even in studying."

"I am plotting," Draco says, "Which is just as important if I'm going to survive when I graduate." Then he frowns. "You should get started on your own plot, too."

"Who said I haven't?" Theo smirks, but it looks kind of pathetic on him considering how exhaustion seems to emanate off him. He seems to realize this, adding, "And anyway, you can plot in silence. Or another room."

"But then nobody would hear Draco's genius?" Blaise drawls.

"Glad you see it my way."

Blaise stares at him in silence for a long, long moment. Then he says, clearly pronouncing every syllable, "I am going to murder you."

"That seems very rash. I'm a Malfoy, you know."

Blaise just looks at him. Then he walks over to Theo's bed and flops down, picking up his book and ignoring everything, including Theo's feeble attempts to push him off. Draco, in a magnanimous mood considering how well his plan is coming together, allows this. He goes back to his notebook, scooting the chair back in under the desk and picks up his quill. Bites the feathered end and frowns at the horrid taste.

Goes right back to his nefarious plotting.

In short, Draco's plan is the following:

1. Convince everybody that Lord Voldemort is in love with him.

2. Leverage their fear of Lord Voldemort's retaliation should anything happen to Draco to get extra favors and protection on raids and so on.

3. Leverage Lord Voldemort's perceived love to surreptitiously get himself removed from doing raids.

4. Leverage... well, leverage it for something else to ensure his safety.

Admittedly the plan is not entirely complete yet, but he's sure it'll come to him. It's already a masterpiece and can only improve from here, really. Nodding, Draco bites the end of the quill again. Frowns. Mutters, "Bloody shit," under his breath and gets an annoyed groan from Theo in response. Draco waves at him, hunching over his desk and pulling the candle closer.

Draco's scribbled notes are expertly penned, the handwriting the most sublime calligraphy. The candlelight flickers in the night as time ticks away, Blaise and then Theo heading to bed before him. Draco, meanwhile, stays hunched until his back aches, eyebrows furrowed and lips twisted into a soft frown.

His arm aches, the Dark Mark summoning somebody. It doesn't persist, so it's not him but he holds his breath for a strangely long minute anyway.

After another hour, he looks up. Theo is sleeping on top of his books, Blaise having gone to bed very properly after even brushing his teeth. Vince and Greg are both snoring in their beds, and Draco stands. Stretches. Coughs softly and hides his notebook in the bottom of his trunk, making sure the fake bottom is carefully placed over it.

It's going to be fine, he tells himself.

Draco's plan will work, and his parents won't be tortured anymore, and his father won't have to go on suicide runs again. It'll all be fine, and Draco won't have to fear his own home.

He goes to bed and stares up at the ceiling for a long, long time.

The fact is simple; Lord Voldemort is winning. This is not a guess, not an exaggeration. The battle arena is the Ministry of Magic and the Dark Lord is occupying more positions, more departments, with every passing month.

Draco is a genius. This is an objective fact. In fact, it's so obvious that Granger avoids him every time she sees him coming, knowing that he's the only threat to her hegemony over Hogwarts. Now, she veers off into another hallway as soon as she spots him but Draco is on a mission and he follows her doggedly.

"Granger!" Draco calls after her, speeding up until he's almost running. She doesn't look back but when he grabs her hand she whirls around to face him.

"What, Malfoy?" she demands harshly, glaring at him.

There's soot in her hair and dirt on her face; he bets she was crawling through the dungeons again trying to find Potter. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning leisurely against the stonewall. "Don't be so jumpy," he chides her, giving her a pitying stare. "I only wanted to ask you a question about Potions."

Her eyes narrow. "You're the best at Potions in our year."

"Yeah, but with the NEWTs coming up I'm losing confidence and I am on the verge of self-destructing."

"Liar," Granger rolls her eyes. "You're an arrogant asshole."

"That's hurtful."

Granger scowls at him. "What do you really want?"

"I told you. I need your help to study."

"The NEWTs are literally tomorrow."

Draco rolls his eyes. "Which is why I'm panicking."

"You don't look like you're panicking to me."

"I'm a very good actor."

She scoffs. "At least put some effort into your intonation," she mutters, looking him over. Her hands clench by her side and he takes a surreptitious step back to get out of punching range, still remembering that faithful day she broke his nose. Naturally, it was flawlessly fixed by Pomphry but the memory remained.

Granger sighs, and pinches the bridge of her nose. "I don't have time to argue with you, I'm helping Neville study."

"Great, than I can tag along."

She stares at him. "Runes. We're studying runes."

"Longbottom takes Runes?" Draco tilts his head, trying to remember if he's ever heard of such a thing. "I thought he was in Care of Magical Creatures."

She winces, biting her bottom lip, and her hand goes to the locket around her throat. Draco's never seen her taking it off all year, and he wonders why she'd wear something so clearly cursed. Maybe the curse is that she can't take it off? But then why wouldn't her precious McGonagall have figured that out already? It's not like especially subtle; the dark magic is practically oozing off it.

"He transferred in third year," she says, still fiddling with the locket. She gives him a harsh stare, "I'll let you join if you promise not to mock him."

"Sure, sure, I'll be nice." Draco smiles beautifully.

She scoffs once more but doesn't stop him from following when she starts walking again. Draco stays in pace with her, trying to think of how to properly phrase his Voldemort reveal to them later. In the end, he'd only gotten about two hours of sleep and was now running on fumes and potions, his skin itchy with the unnatural energy. It's possible he took too many, but really, it's now or never. He needs to start the rumors before he graduates from Hogwarts or it's never going to reach outside of Slytherin.

The strategy is simple; simply convince enough people that the Dark Lord is in love with him and then they'll do the hard work of convincing everybody else that it's true. Granger and Longbottom are the perfect people to start with for this because they occupy two different subsets of Hogwarts—even if they do hang out together.

Longbottom flinches as soon as he spots Draco approaching, and Draco merely smiles excessively kindly in response. It strains his cheeks though, the unfamiliar expression only a recent addition to his armory. Longbottom flinches again.

He leans over the table toward Granger and hisses, "What's Malfoy doing here?"

"He's going to study with us." Granger sits down next to Longbottom and dumps a whole pile of thick books on the table at the same time as Draco gingerly sits down. There's two empty spaces between them, but he really can't be expected to get closer. What if their Gryffindorness is contagious?

Longbottom peeks at him and peeps, ducking his head again and scooting his chair closer to Granger's. Draco doesn't even bother to hide it when he rolls his eyes, pulling out a random notebook from his bag and making only a token effort to pretend that he's actually studying.

"Do you like Runes?" Longbottom asks after about half-an-hour, during which Draco has been doodling in the margins of one of his Potions notebooks. Draco looks up, taking a second to understand that Longbottom just voluntarily spoke to him, and can't help giving him a suspicious look. Longbottom, strangely, seems to take this as encouragement. "I know you had tutors in Runes when you were growing up. Why didn't you take Runes?"

Draco glances at Granger, who's viciously glaring at him with a curled lip. "I'm good at it but I don't much like it."

"Then, could you help me with this? Hermione's explanation is-" Longbottom glances at Granger and when she smiles at him, he forges on- "a bit too technical for me. I don't quite understand what she means."

This is it, Draco thinks. If he just plays this right the opening to (at least somewhat naturally) talk about the Dark Lord will appear. So he smiles and gets into the chair next to Longbottom, making a gimme gesture until Longbottom slides his notebook over and says, "It's this bit here. I'm not sure to tie these two runes together without inserting a third one? But if I do that I change the whole meaning, you know?"

"If you wanna tie them together, just tie them together," Draco says after a quick glance, without the patience to come up with something better. His leg is bouncing under the table, foot tapping on the floor, and his stomach is starting to cramp.

He can't mess this up.

"Tie them together?" Granger asks, a strange note in her voice.

Draco grabs Longbottom's quill and makes a quick line between rune a and b, making a show of drawing little bows where the line touches each rune. "There," he says, smiling.

Granger snags the notebook right out of Longbottom's hands. "That can't work," she protests, running her finger along the line and avoiding Longbottom's weak attempt to get the notebook back. She looks up at them, frowning, and says, "This can't possibly work, Malfoy."

Draco shrugs. "It's magic."

"That's a bullshit explanation and you know it." Granger nearly growls, finally returning the notebook to Longbottom. In the library's silence, her voice nearly echoes. "There are rules to Runes and we haven't learned anything about tying them together. You're just trying to get Neville in trouble," her accusation rings out over the table.

"Hermione..." Longbottom starts, slouching in his chair like he's trying to hide. The indignity makes Draco scoot away from him. Thankfully neither of them seems to notice, to occupied with their own little world as Longbottom adds, "Draco's really good at magic. If he says it'll work, I believe him."

"But it doesn't—"

Longbottom shakes his head. "I'm trying to tie them together. A physical tie is as good as any other."

Granger bites her lip, hand going to her locket again. Longbottom flinches, Draco's eyebrows furrowing, but quite honestly Draco is running out of patience with this entire conversation. If it weren't for his plan he wouldn't even deign to help them and it itches that they think he's lying. He interrupts their staring contest with a curt, "Just try it. It either works or it doesn't, so stop wasting time."

"You're right," Granger admits, and Draco straightens up. She nods to Longbottom, "Give it a go."

Longbottom does.

Naturally, it works perfectly.

(Hah. Draco is a genius.)

Granger spends about five minutes staring at the notebook in silence, after, and Draco takes the opportunity to very smoothly say, "I think the Dark Lord is in love with me."

"What the fuck?" says Granger.

Longbottom stares at him with obvious horror, even scooting away from Draco somewhat. "Are you okay?" he even asks.

Draco smoothly blows right past their reactions and continues, "Lord Voldemort sometimes visits Malfoy Manor-" (Longbottom mutters, "Should you be telling us this?") "and I've noticed him... looking at me."

"And you got he's in love with me out of that?" Granger doubtfully asks.

Draco stares her right in the eyes. "He looks at me a lot."

Longbottom makes a wounded noise, Draco unable to not sneer at him. There should be a limit to how pathetic a pureblood can be and yet somehow Longbottom always manages to subvert his expectations. Granger glares at him for 'mocking' Longbottom and says, "I'm sure you're mistaken."

Draco nods thoughtfully, rearranging his expression into one of sorrowful thoughtfulness. "I'm..." an artful pause, "sure you're right. I must just be imagining it." He sighs theatrically, "It's just that I've seen Lord Voldemort around so often lately, every time I go home. Why just this Yule I..." here, he shakes his head, "no, I'm sure you're right. It must be my imagining. I'm just being paranoid." A wan smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Genius.

Granger's eyebrows are furrowed and she makes eye-contact with Longbottom, communicating something without words. Draco patiently waits, his heartbeat slowing. With this, the first step is underway.

"If you feel unsafe..." Granger starts after a moment, looking at Draco again. She's still frowning, but she doesn't appear to be rejecting his words outright—which was the only goal, really.

Draco shakes his head. "I'm perfectly safe," he says with another wan and weary smile. He clears his throat after a second and says,"Let's get back to it!"

Granger and Longbottom exchange another suspicious look. Draco makes sure his tension is extra visible, tilting his head so the lighting can reach the ark circles under his eyes that, for once, he didn't hide. His finger taps on the table, a rhythm he can't quite identify, and Granger finally gives in. Says, "You're right, there's still lots more to go through."

Draco's smile is a weak, feeble thing, his tension lingering in his spine and shoulders, and he turns toward them with all the grace he possess.

The rest of the studying session goes by flawlessly, Granger and Longbottom observing Draco when they think he's not paying attention. The jokes on them though because Draco is always paying attention, his mind trying to spin out all the way his plan can go wrong all at once. It gives him a headache, and he presses his fingers on the bridge of his nose in a stupid attempt to dispel it.

When it doesn't work he looks up again, frowning at the twin looks of suspicion he's being graced with. "What?" he nearly snaps, managing to correct the tone on the very last syllable.

Calm. He's a kind, magnanimous person helping them study out of the goodness of his heart.

And there's no way they can possibly figure out his genius master-plan.

Squaring his shoulders, he asks, "Do you need help with anything?"

Granger shakes her head. "If you're tired you don't have to stay, we can continue on our own." The pounding in his skull has increased and it's the only reason why his gaze so obviously goes to the locket around her throat (rather then the discreet, surreptitiousness looks he's been giving it so far). She blanches when she realizes where he's looking, her hand covering the locket instantly.

"You should probably do something about that," Draco says, nodding to the locket. There's no need to be discreet when he's already been caught. "I can almost feel the dark magic in my lungs."

Granger sneers at him.

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