{Place To Be} Chapter 1: improbable but highly inconvenient table occupancy day . 

  The year began with waffles. Golden piles stacked ten feet into the air graced every house table in the Great Hall on September second. The heavy-footed students wiped the sleep from their eyes and a general murmur of approval was granted on behalf of the offering.

Cruets of syrup twinkled when they caught the rays of sun that fell down from the ceiling and Professor Dumbledore’s eyes were quick to mimic as he blinked happily down upon the scene. The first morning of the year was always his favorite, and he said so to Professor Snape, leaning in at the same time to reach for the butter dish.

Draco Malfoy could not have agreed more. Strolling into the room with his hands tucked away in the pockets of his robes he almost felt like smiling, but of course, he did not. Instead he continued to walk just as leisurely to the Slytherin table where many of his fellow house mates were either trying to be very stealthy in getting a waffle from the middle of the stack or recollecting their summoning charms and with much more luck plucking one from the top. Withdrawing his wand Draco performed a quick swish/flick and had a cruet of syrup hovering at the ready, even before his waffle hit the plate and his backside had hit the bench.

“You’re terrible,” Blaise said next to him, transferring the syrup in the air over his own breakfast before it had a chance to start pouring.

“And you’re a thief,” Draco replied, grabbing Blaise’s waffle as soon as it had been properly dressed. Blaise was about to make another move for his property when he stopped and leaned in to Draco instead. “Observe,” he said making eye contact and lowering his wand under the table. Murmuring under his breath he twitched his wand and Draco followed his companion’s line of vision across the hall to the Gryffindor table, where Ron Weasley was about stab his own waffle. But just as his fork descended upon its prey it drifted upward and the utensil met the plate with a loud *clunk* instead.

Shocked, Weasley dropped his fork and yelped, trying to reclaim his wayward breakfast. Students leaned back from their tables and broke into fits of giggles as the crispy sphere danced and twirled just out of his reach till finally it made its way on a lazy path over to the Slytherin table and landed on Blaise’s ready plate.

Ron whipped his head around to face him, cheeks flushed. “Oi! Whattya think your doing Zabini?!” he shouted.

“Well gee Weasley, apparently your not even fit for the company of a sub-par piece of toast…it does seem to have good taste though doesn’t it?” his slick voice carried just as well to the other table without needing to be raised.

“You underhanded sneaky Slytherin!” Ron growled.

“Why…thank you.” Blaise replied cordially, placing a hand to his breast. “What do we say kids?” He addressed the rest of his house who were now amused and at attention. “Are we underhanded?” A chorus of concurring hisses rang out across the table.

“Sssssssssssssssssssssssss!” they spat. Blaise smiled even wider. “And are we Sneaky?” “Ssssssssss!” Their teeth bared and their tongues lay flat in their mouths as the Slytherins, from first year to seventh, turned to each other with glee and faced the Gryffindors with glittering eyes. Hiss! They spat again, the sounds combining into an eerie, maddening noise. Draco couldn’t suppress a grin, watching his friend completely in his element and feeling heartened with House pride. “Sss!” he joined in.

Lifting his arms Blaise looked on with a wicked calm and silenced his chorus of snakes like a conductor. “And are we…Slytherins?” He barely whispered the words everyone had been waiting for before the Great hall was filled with an eruption of hisses from the table so sinister and great some students covered their ears and hid their faces against the force.

“That is quite enough!” Professor Dumbledore was standing up at the staff table, his voice grave and his wand hand raised in authority. Gradually the litany died off, a few venomous spits lingering after. “Now may I suggest you all finish your breakfast and be on your way? Classes start in fifteen minutes.”

His tone brooked no argument and the hall was silent for just a moment before a hum of discussion began and exploded into a normal level of chatter. Heads turned toward the Slytherins, chancing a look at the deviants and whispering conspiratorially about what had just taken place.

“And I’m the terrible one?” Draco said to Blaise, fixing him with a bored look.

“Oh come now, Draco, you can’t say you didn’t enjoy that. I think Weasley turned the same shade as the strawberry marmalade.”

“You’re such a ham Zabini. What was that whole raised arm thing? I swear you’re a ‘pouf, no real man would have such a flair for drama." And before there could be any sort of reply Draco raised himself from the table and let his robes billow out behind him as he strode away.

“Yes well you certainly win the prize for entrances’ and exits, don't you Draco?” Blaise called after him. “You’re really going to have to teach me that cape fluttery thing, it’s too good!”

~*~

The Slytherins were clearly feeling energized by their performance that morning and for the rest of the day there were even whispers of “insufferable,” but never within range of a Slytherin ear. These were the days, thought Draco on his way to Herbology, that a Slytherin lived for. He was strolling with a hand in a pocket and his robe slung over his shoulder as was customary. It was Blaise’s soft chuckle that persuaded him to stop midway to greenhouse 3. He was standing just a few feet from Draco with his arms crossed.

“What are you looking so smug about Zabini?

Blaise let his eyes fall down and then back up to Draco’s face again.

“Please, Zabini, you make me feel like a common tart. Why don’t you leave out the theatrics for once and just tell me what you’re getting at.” Draco shifted his weight impatiently.

“Oh Draco,” Blaise said, “You’ve walked the same way since the day I met you. I bet you couldn’t hurry if Hermione Granger was chasing after you with her lips puckered for a kiss.” Draco’s spine straightened.

“Your damn right I wouldn’t, I would be too busy trying to wretch and throw curses at the same time.” He started walking again, trying in vain not to focus on this simple action. “Damn it Zabini only you could ruin WALKING for me!” Blaise laughed and they entered the greenhouse together, avoiding the tables where the Ravenclaws sat and taking note of the huge flowers that sat on each one.

“Hurry up you lot, that’s it, come along now.” Professor Sprout waved the last students in and yelled for attention. “I need you all to pay strict attention to what you’re doing today, I want no accidents do your hear me? Today each table is handling a Hagris Monstrus better known as a man-eating plant.” She gave an ominous pause.

“Hagris Monstrus? I bet this thing is related to that other monstrosity they call a professor. Probably grew up in the same plot of dirt even.” Draco said quietly to Blaise who raised his eyebrows in agreement.

“I want everyone wearing TWO pairs of gloves and your not to poke, prod, or otherwise harass your plant is that clear? We’re merely observing today and the gloves are for CAREFULLY checking a leaf or petal to write down what you see. I’ve already sent two Gryffindors and a most unfortunate Hufflepuff down to the infirmary today and I’d rather I didn’t have to explain another one to Poppy.” She let her stern eyes travel across the room before clapping her hands and pronouncing them ready to begin.

“Two Gryffindors?” Blaise repeated then laughed. “Are you thinking naughty thoughts Draco? You look as if Halloween had come early. He got no reply however as Draco was staring dreamily off into space. For the rest of the class period they meticulously jotted and sketched the Hagris Monstrus’ anatomy on their parchment and dreamt up the myriad of shocking and gruesome scenarios which could have befallen two Gryffindors ( their names went unspoken but there was a special two in mind). When finally they were free to go and only one finger had to be magically reattached the students began stuffing their quills back into their bags.

The two boys were enjoying a disgustingly raunchy tale from Gregory Goyle when they passed a Ravenclaw girl leaning around her plant to retrieve a roll of parchment. The group of Slytherins were just past when a shrill scream filled the greenhouse, hitting every pane of glass. Students readying to leave stopped dead and hoped for another wayward finger. When they turned to the Ravenclaw however she was no longer there, in her place was a roll of parchment drifting to the ground and a suspicious shoe lace hanging from the jaws of her Hagris Monstrus.

“Sweet Hemlock, Nightshade, and Belladonna she’s been swallowed!” Professor sprout immediately sprung into action, sending students running with instructions to the castle and whispering a series of quiet incantations around the enormous mouth and gullet of the plant.

The boys started to edge their way out of the door but it slammed in their faces with an invisible force.

“If you gentlemen would be so kind as to stay here…” Professor Sprout was right behind them.

~*~

“Pamona you’re getting frantic, why don’t you let me interrogate my own students?” Snape’s oily voice cut into her rant.

“Frantic? I’m not FRANTIC Severus I’m P.O.’d!” Professor Sprout gave him a beady look. “My plants act when provoked but they are not prone to random acts of aggression. Your students, however, ARE.”

“Now, now,” Snape’s slick voice dropped a couple of degrees to icy and Professor Sprout looked properly abashed.

“I’m sorry Severus that was uncalled for. But I saw Sabrina Spellman perfectly unscathed right before this group of boys walked by her. SOMETHING must have happened. An accidental knock perhaps?” She turned accusingly on the group of boys before her. “You gentlemen are lucky that I was able to freeze the stomach acids of her Hagris Monstrus before they were able to begin eating through her skin. THAT would have been a right pretty mess!”

“PAMONA,” Snape said sternly. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow and if I have no answers for you by then we will consult the headmaster hmm?” Professor Sprout’s bottom lip quivered momentarily before she cast one last shriveling look at the boys and stormed out. Snape turned to them and crossed his arms across his chest. Now his hands were tucked away under the folds of robes; his entire body a blur of black, save for the pale and menacing head that perched atop it all like a bird with a particularly large beak. “ANSWERS.” He demanded. The boys looked back with faces of polite interest but no answer was offered. “No one? Well I suppose we’d better let the headmaster deal with it in the morning. Hades knows I’ve got better things to do.” He gave them all a curt smile and shooed them out of his office.

“Snape,” Blaise said as they walked to the common room, “at least we can always count on him to let us off short of murder.”

“Bless the old sod.” Draco muttered.

“Hang on, who did it then?” Greg scrunched his eyes in puzzlement.

“I thought we’d agreed on innocence,” Draco chimed and whispered the password to the wall. It slid open and they entered the Slytherin common room, grateful for the dim light and the warm fire.

“Draco…” Blaise looked at him sideways but he said nothing, instead sliding into an armchair and gazing at the fire. “You old dog I knew it was you!” Blaise laughed and punched him in the arm. “Sprout was right you ARE a lucky bastard that the Ravenclaw didn’t get completely liquefied!” Draco shifted in his seat and tried to recapture the contrition that had been so easy to feign just a moment a go.

“It couldn’t be helped. She was leaning oh SO precariously near to it that you’d have to be blind or…or a Gryffindor not to take advantage of the situation!”

“And we all know that if there’s one thing your not, it’s a Gryffindor.” Blaise patted him on the shoulder and stood. “I’m beat. I’m gonna hit the showers before Lunch.” Five minutes later when Draco was standing up to go to the Great Hall Professor Snape walked in and halted his progress.

“The verdict has come early.” He declared, raising his eyebrows at a cluster of students who were quite obviously up to no good in the corner of the room. “Rather than ferret out a slew of threats and complaints saying it was an accident you and your friends will all be absent from the first three visits to Hogsmeade. No need to fret of course as I trust you’ll all keep excellent company for each other.”

His business having been stated Snape immediately left again through the sliding wall. Draco cursed, he had plans already, he was going to meet Talia Wintourborn at Honeydukes and go from there. Well, he thought, maybe he wouldn’t have to break any plans after all.

A couple years ago he had seen the statue of the one eyed witch with the hump close up, a figure disappearing within. If it could close, he had reasoned, it could open. Eventually Draco had figured it out and it proved to be quite a handy little passage out of the castle. It would even lead him straight to Honeydukes no harm done.

He’d always wondered who it was that he’d seen going down there in the first place but figured it must have been some sort of guardian leading him to fortune.

~*~

When Draco emerged into the main room of Honeydukes Sweet Shop it was bursting with Hogwarts students examining and purchasing all manner of tooth decay. He breathed in and smelled the familiar scent of warm sugar, the old aroma was a permanent part of his memory, Honeydukes forever in his mind.

Moving on he pushed through the crowd and tried to find Talia’s shiny brown head. He never understood how anyone’s hair could be so damned shiny! Surely it wasn’t natural and yet it was the only hair he’d seen like it and if truth be told it was the thing that most attracted Draco to her. He spotted the sun catching and slanting on top of someone’s shoulders outside and knew that he had found his girl.

But as he neared the front window he saw that she was now leaving with a gangly Ravenclaw boy. Really now, the passage was long, but he couldn’t be that late. He stepped outside and made to call after her but Pansy Parkinson rubbed herself against him and shook her head.

“I wouldn’t bother if I were you. Talia’s been talking to Genie and we all know how Genie feels about you.” Draco felt his face fall.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on Draco, you broke Genies heart and she’s certainly not the only one. I think she may even have formed a sort of “scorned lovers” club or something. Obviously she was just giving the girl fair warning.” Pansy looked bored.

“Fair warning? Scared off my date is more like it and I risked my neck sneaking out here! The chit goes of with some Ravenclaw who’s got the arms of an orangutan." He scowled. “Why do women always have to talk so damned much? Fine I’m getting a Butterbeer are you coming?” Pansy shook her head again, her black hair bobbing.

“Nah I’m meeting Isabella at Madame Malkins. Maybe later if your still there.” She waved leaving Draco to make the trek to The Three Broomsticks by himself.

When he stepped inside the warmth and cheer of the establishment he scanned the room. His closest friends were back in the castle banned from the village and from where he was standing he couldn’t find a green tie or recognizable face in sight. Actually there were a couple Slytherins but nobody that he would ever consort with. Even Slytherin house had its defects.

Figuring that he’d probably meet someone if he waited around Draco made his way to the bar but as he dug into his pocket to extract his money bag he heard a menacing noise: the noise of Professors talking and entering, including Snape at one end and Sprout at the other. What were the odds that they would ever share a drink together? And yet here they were also with McGonagall Sinistra and Flitwick. He had no choice now but to duck into one of the nearby tables that would be hidden by a pillar close to the wall.

Unfortunately all of the tables were occupied and he looked frantically between his choices: a couple of Hufflepuffs who looked like they were in the midst of a messy breakup, a small Gryffindor who was placing scarves and other garments in the vacant seats at her table, a younger Slytherin whom Draco had recently bedded and discarded keeping company with yet ANOTHER castoff from his four poster (he hoped they wouldn’t talk too much) and Potter the Mudblood and the Weasel.

Slim pickings but he had to go with the lonely Gryffindor. At least there was only one of her.

Quickly he slid into the seat next to her hoping to shield himself from view. He was too busy checking on the progress of his Professors to notice the surprised and indignant reaction that was coming from his companion. He was finally brought back to reality by a persistent tapping on his shoulder.

“What IS it?!” He whispered irritably only just registering who this small redhead was. This small redheaded WEASLEY. “Oh good gods what is this, improbable but highly inconvenient table occupancy day?” he whispered to himself.

“Yeah didn’t you mark it on your calendar? It’s my favorite of all the unlikely but vastly awkward holidays.” She whispered back.

“So what, you’re funny?” He scooted his chair away but noticed Snape standing up and scooted it back. Close call he was merely greeting another professor.

“No I’m wondering why I haven’t hexed you yet. What are you doing Malfoy?” She whispered, looking annoyed.

He was calculating the likelihood of his escape with six professors sitting near the only exit.

“Well whatever your doing your going to have to stop it pretty soon because in case you didn’t notice I was saving these seats.” Noticing that she was still talking he looked back at her.

“What are you blathering on about Weasley?” he whispered.

“I’m not blathering you bloody prat I’m telling you these seats are saved.” She whispered back angrily.

“Well there’s no one here now.” He rebutted. She sighed loudly.

“What do you want Malfoy?”

“SHHH!” he clamped a hand over her mouth and she bit it.“Owww!” he tried to howl quietly. “You bloody wench, what are you a werewolf?!” She smirked.

“Something like that.”

“Well keep it down or I’ll have you neutered.” He whispered fervently.

“What is your problem?” She whispered.

“What’s yours?” Draco stole another glance at his teachers and could’ve sworn that Snape was looking at him. He ducked his head again quickly.

“Why are we whispering?” She demanded finally, still whispering.

“Because in case you hadn’t noticed I’m trying to blend in and not get caught by that group of professors over there who are blocking the only exit in this damn hole!” he crossed his arms sulkily and leaned back in his chair. “They look like they could be here all afternoon; oh this is just bloody perfect.”

“Well they’d better not be! I already told you I’m saving these seats. In fact why don’t I just do us both a favor and call them over.” Draco sat up and smacked his hand over her mouth for a second time when she started to lean over. She bit it again. Hard.

“Bloody fucking hell Weasel what did I do to you?” He cradled his injured hand as far away from her mouth as possible. She seemed to be considering his question. She leaned back, crossed her legs, and stroked her chin. Then she twirled her hair and took a sip of Butterbeer. Finally she turned to Draco with a confused look on her face. “Well, you’ve aggravated my friends and insulted my family but I have to admit you haven’t really done anything to me.” Draco could feel the surprise registering on his own face.

“Really? Nothing?”

“Nothing worth remembering.” She seemed to mull this over some more then grinned and punched him in the arm in a way uncanny to Blaise. “Gee, that almost makes us friends huh Draco?”

He was sure that this was all just a dream. Forced to hide out at a table with only a Weasley for company who, by the way, had just let his first name and the word friend tumble carelessly from her lips as if it happened all the time. Reality could not harbor something so bizarre.

“I highly doubt that,” he finally replied.

“Oh come on Malfoy, what did I ever do to you?” He was tempted to tell her that she was born, a filthy blood-traitor, and that she poisoned his precious air but for some reason could not coax the words off his tongue.

Maybe it was because he’d never before entertained such a harebrained scheme as a Weasley and a Malfoy being friends. Maybe it was because this particular Weasley looked neither dirty nor spineless. Maybe it was because he was trapped with no where else to go if she ratted him out. But he didn’t say anything at all and this seemed to please her.

“All right then why don’t you buy us a couple drinks since your always bragging about being so bloody loaded and you can tell me when exactly you lost your spine. “ She propped her chin on her hand.

“You know you’ve got a funny way of talking to your supposed friends Weasley.”

“What you mean honestly? I realize it’s a concept for you but I won’t make an exception. You are loaded no? And unless I’m much mistaken you don’t usually make a habit of cowering from authority.” She said this deadpan. All right, he’d play along.

“Duly noted,” he replied. “I MAY have caused a Ravenclaw to fall into the jaws of a man-eating monstrosity where her flesh MAY have been slowly eaten away by acid HAD SHE NOT been rescued by magic which I had no doubt she would be…and I may have been banned from Hogsmeade for three weeks which I may have overlooked in order to meet someone here which just might be the reason that I’m telling you any of this at all. Mate.”

She didn’t say anything, just continued to look at him until Madame Rosmerta happened by and Draco ordered a couple of drinks not because he’d been told to but because she was right and he was loaded. It might as well have been charity. Who knew he could be charitable?

“That’s quite a tale, is it true?” She asked, accepting her drink from Rosmerta.

“Of course it’s true. I don’t lie to my pals after all.”

“Is THAT true?” she asked.

“No.” He conceded. They drank in companionable silence for a minute, observing the other patrons. The Hufflepuff couple was still there, the girl crying hysterically into the shirtfront of the boy who looked rather bored.

“Typical.” Draco’s table-mate muttered.

“Excuse me?” He asked.

“I said typical,” she nodded toward the boy who was now stroking his ex-girlfriends hair with one hand and checking his watch with the other. “Boys are crap.” She stated simply but vehemently. Draco choked into his Butterbeer.

“We are not. Just because you have crap for taste in men doesn’t mean it transfers onto the general male population. I for one am quite charming.” Now she snorted into her drink. He was tempted to take it away.

“Are you now? Is that why those two girls over there have been giving you the evil eye since you sat down?” She was talking of course about his two young conquests at the nearby table.

“Women talk too much,” Draco said bitterly. “

“Men, if you can call most of them that, are self-centered. Look at that poor girl over there she’s heartbroken and he’s probably trying to get out of here on time to meet the other woman he’s already been seeing for weeks now.”

“Well I’m sure she’ll be telling every female within a hundred mile radius all about it so that the poor sod will be blacklisted from this great land we call England till he changes his name or moves.

“Well we can’t be that bad or you wouldn’t have been able to make two girls in your own house that mad at you to begin with!” She stopped bothering to lower her voice.

“Actually women are just as loud as they’ve always been that’s why those girls are third years because all of the upperclassmen have all heard the story!”

“You pedophile.”

“Man hater.”

“You shoved a girl into the jaws of death for fun,” she flushed with triumph.

“Weasley-“

“Ginny. We’re friends now remember Draco? Friends call each other by their first name.” She drained her glass and stood up, still pink with ire. “I’ll see you around then.” Ginny slung her bag over her shoulder and walked away.

The Professors had already vacated their table by the door so Draco was free to go too. But he stayed there nursing his drink until a group of Gryffindors walked over to his table and looked confusedly between him and their own items occupying the empty chairs, obviously wondering what he’d done with their friend. He threw some coins on the table and left.