It was the middle of the night. The towering graves were illuminated by silver moonlight, although no stars shone in the jet-black sky. A cloaked figure rose from a carved chair, encrusted with fabulous jewels of all shapes and sizes. His followers cowered at his feet, shaking with fear. Very sinister.

Draco Malfoy watched as the Dark Lord stepped away from his tasteless (in Draco’s opinion) even verging on Cabaret throne. “I had a lot more respect for him before I met Harry Potter, the boy who helped people… When I am Dark Lord,” thought Draco Malfoy, “everything will be decorated with either black or silver. None of this ruby-emerald clash…”

A puppy was sacrificed and the meeting began.

“I have a special task to appoint to you,” rasped the Dark Lord, pointing an unattractively scarred bony finger in Draco’s direction. The Dark Lord laughed maniacally. His other followers, taking this as their cue to laugh maniacally, laughed maniacally also. The graveyard resounded with maniacal laughter, although the best Draco could manage was a light cackle.

Like all maniacal laughter, it finished abruptly, plunging the graveyard into silence.

“Ahem,” coughed the Dark Lord. “Where was I?” He looked around and took a sip of freshly squeezed unicorn blood. “Ah yes. The younger Mr. Malfoy’s task,” he rasped to himself. “I hope you are listening, Mr. Malfoy, your future career here depends on the success of this task.”

Draco looked round at the shaking wrecks that were his parents and thought that maybe accountancy didn’t sound so bad after all…

“What is my mission, Master? As my chosen purpose in life is to serve you.” Draco backed this up with a charming smile and a flick of his white-blond hair.

“You will use your geographical closeness to Harry Potter to dispose of him, in whichever manner you see fit. I am bored of his escapalogical antics and would quite like to add his left foot to my collection.”

It was strange how few people knew or Lord Voldemort’s vast feet collection, and also how the ones who did know about it weren’t remotely surprised.

“This is a chance for you to prove your worth, and also for you to start a collection of your own.”

Draco Malfoy grinned at the thought of Harry Potter’s nose floating in a jar. “Master,” he drawled, “nothing would give me greater pleasure than finishing off the bespectacled ninny that is Harry Potter. Should I fail you, may my buttocks drop off or catch fire, may dragon fire frazzle my beautific locks. May I…”

His speech lasted for about five minutes more before the Dark Lord cut him off. He had always tried to encourage young speech-making talent and Draco Malfoy had always shown exceptional promise, although his speeches did tend to refer to his appearance more often than the Dark Lord would have liked…

“Very well. Now on to other business…”

As night faded into morning, the meeting ended and each Death Eater was sent home with a vial of puppy blood and his/her own thoughts. Draco Malfoy was ecstatic with the ease of his first task. Potter was as good as skewered on a long pointy stick.

A magnificent grand piano fell from the top of the archway into the Great Hall. Several first years screamed into their cereal. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley looked up from their plates.

“You know,” said Ron, “I think I’ve reached a point where nothing at Hogwarts can surprise me.”

“What a waste of a good Bechstein Grand,” Hermione trilled.

Harry Potter was too busy slyly sneaking looks at Cho Chang to really participate in the conversation. Even though he had been going out with Ginny Weasley for a month, he couldn’t help noticing Cho’s meaningful glances…

Across the table, Ginny raised one eyebrow at her boyfriend’s expression. He looked as if he was about to choke. She knew he was staring at Cho Chang, and was surprised by how little she cared. He was getting more boring than she thought possible, and now would be the perfect time to finish whatever they had with as little harm to each other as was possible. She could branch out; there were decent boys in other houses as well after all…

Draco Malfoy swept past the Gryffindor table with a murderous look on his gorgeous face. If only he wasn’t such a jerk, thought Ginny…

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Draco slumped into his chair in the Slytherin common room.

“Darn.”

Harry Potter’s assassination had got off to a bad start… he was sure the piano thing would have worked. But then again, he had forgotten the old Malfoy saying: Always check where the Gryffindor will enter the Great Hall before positioning your piano. This motto had perplexed him for a while in his youth, but now its shining wisdom shone through. It really is amazing how much foresight his ancestors must have possessed. Actually, come to think about it, it was not surprising at all; of course his ancestors would all have been stand-up fellows. Fair enough, this plan had been a stab in the dark. But he had until the end of the term, after all.



Of course, Potter was not the only thing on his mind. He had a Quidditch match to prepare for, he reminded himself, and he was not going to lose to Hufflepuff. Draco avoided Pansy Parkinson's yearning glances and sauntered off to Snape's office to book a practice.



On his way, he mused that, though his assassination must wait, Harry Potter was still a bit of an issue. Now, having learnt his valuable lesson, he turned to the ancient Malfoy wisdom for guidance and the like. His ancestors were also well versed in the art of gardening, a skill which he had yet to find a use for... He would write to his father about the Rufulus Oldriges interyesting giyde to bewytchying your horticulture, which was in their library at home.



Snape had proved to be very receptive to his request that the Gryffindors be thrown off the pitch, and signed an elaborate green slip to show to Madame Hooch. As Draco kicked off, and felt all his Harry Potter related troubles go away, he deliberated on more important (self-oriented) matters, namely, the disappointing lack of amazingly beautiful girls falling at his feet. His sex life had never looked worse, and he was going to have to do something about it. He might even branch out... There were other houses for a reason, after all...


Author's note: please review, they make my day :)
Oh, and I responded to all previous reviews, because I am a nice person... ;)

It was the first Saturday of the month, and the fifth-year Hogwarts students filed past Filch on their way to Hogsmeade. Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny lagged at the back of the group, laughing and joking.

Draco Malfoy waited for them up the road, and with a spell he had memorized, he bewitched the hedge he was nonchalantly leaning on. The hedge began to shudder and shake. Fangs protruded from its razor-sharp leaves, its roots ripped themselves from the ground and it began to advance.

Draco discontinued its movement with a simple freezing charm that would wear off round about when Harry Potter would walk past. He grinned at his own magnificent brilliance and patted the hedge affectionately.

As the Gryffindors walked past, the freezing charm did not seem to have worn off, so Draco decided that he needed to do everything in his power to stop them.

“Oy Potter!” Draco took a deep breath. “Everybody thinks you’re weird, you bespectacled scar head; Weasley, you’re brainless, you’re poor and your mum is fat; Granger, you look like a beaver, you only got 98% in Transfiguration last year and you’re a filthy Mudblood; Ginny, umm, you have freckles and I don’t like your shoes today.”

They all stopped and turned round, amazed.

“Even for you, Malfoy, that was quite a long breath,” said Ginny, impressed.

“Yes well,” Draco replied, “I have very good lung capacity.” He winked at her.

Stunned silence erupted, only broken when the hedge sprung to life.

It heaved itself forward; its once neatly topiared branches maniacally flailing towards the students. Harry pulled out his wand and blasted the hedge. However, the hedge only seemed more encouraged by this attack, and launched itself, at a quicker pace, towards them.

“DO SOMETHING, HERMIONE!” shrieked Ron, who had recently misplaced his own wand, and was much too busy stumbling backwards to have done anything anyway.

With clean brilliance, Hermione quickly stunned the hedge. At the same moment, all four Gryffindors turned round just in time to see Draco speed off to Hogsmeade, cackling evilly.

“That boy has issues,” said Hermione, putting her wand away.

“I’ll give him issues,” muttered Ron, causing many raised eyebrows to be turned in his direction.


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Later, in the Three Broomsticks, Harry, Ron and Hermione were still complaining about Draco Malfoy. Ron, with overeager malice, was miming what he would have done to Malfoy had he not been busy dealing with the hedge. It involved a lot of high kicking and Hermione suspected he had been watching his dad’s collection of muggle karate films again. She sighed and turned her attention to Harry, who was explaining in great detail to Ginny why Malfoy was such a prat.

“He’s just so… so evil.” Harry gesticulated wildly. “And he’s spiteful and nasty to all Gryffindors. His father’s a Death Eater; they’re all in cahoots you know… He’s just bad. All Slytherins are.”

Ginny was faintly amused by all this, and decided to fight Malfoy’s case for a bit.

“He can’t help who his father is, you know. And he can’t be all bad; no one is. Besides, he’s handsome and clever and funny. Definitely better than most Slytherins, right?”

Harry Potter gaped. “But… he’s Malfoy!! And his hair looks stupid.”

Ginny simply laughed breezily. Harry’s conversation could be quite boring, but she could talk on this subject for a while…


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Draco walked back to Hogwarts with Blaise Zabini. He tried his best not to show his frustration, masking it cleverly by turning a nearby Hufflepuff girl’s feet into stuffed beavers. Oddly, she didn’t notice them until they startled her by singing the national anthem very loudly, in deep bass voices.

When he reached the Slytherin common room, he detached Pansy Parkinson from his arm, where she was making a nuisance of herself by drooling over his manly charms and brilliance. Not that Draco would have minded usually, of course; and Parkinson wasn’t so bad, if you squinted.

But he was a busy man. Pausing only briefly to give his dashing appearance a quick once over in the talking hallway mirror, (Dazzling as usual honey. I would eat you up with a spoon, if I had a mouth...) he turned into his room. Potter was proving difficult, and Draco was getting impatient. On the other hand, Potter’s girlfriend was obviously impressed by his speech-making skills. He couldn’t blame the poor girl, of course; few could resist his devilishly handsome face. He might give her a chance, if she was lucky.


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Back in Hogsmeade, the last few students ambled back to Hogwarts. No one noticed a neatly trimmed hedge get up and bound off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, topiary bouncing in the wind.



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Another week passed, and Harry Potter managed to avoid all of Draco’s carefully placed traps. Draco scowled as he passed him in the Great Hall. He would have to try a different approach...


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The next morning, in the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory, Harry Potter found a vole in his underpants draw.

“Oh.” Harry was a bit lost for words. “Ummm, cute vole.” The vole snuffled around in Harry’s Y-fronts.

Neville Longbottom looked up. When he caught sight of the vole, he squeaked loudly.

“Harry!” Neville had gasped. “That is a poisonous vole! The Only poisonous kind of vole in the British Isles. It’s known for its very killer instincts and deadliness. It’s evil...” He pointed an accusatory quivering finger at the dozing vole and collapsed into a mad fit of twitching, and everyone in the room had studiously ignored him.

“I think I’ll call it Rover.”

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“Aghlfufmiaduh?!?!?!!” Draco Malfoy spluttered. Harry Potter was still alive. Very alive. And with a vole gamboling around his shoulders... that made no sense and it was unfair. On the other foot, at least the poisoned toast would work.

At that second, Colin Creevey spluttered and choked. The entire Gryffindor table rushed to help him, Harry Potter actually leaping over the breakfast things in his haste. Draco turned away. Bloody Gryffindors...


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And now for a short history of the poisonous vole featured in this, the latest installment of the hedge saga.




Description
Most vole species have rootless molars that fold into a series of triangles. These prove very useful when our poisonous little friend goes out on his nightly hunts. Voles are one of the few rodents whose molars continue to grow during their entire life. This means that by the time they are a year old, their teeth protrude monstrously from their tiny mouths.

Habitat
The poisonous vole can live anywhere. He is the master of disguise. He can delve into the hardest rock and thrive in very high altitudes. The North American Meadow Vole lives in networks of above-ground "runways" in grassy areas, as well as underground burrows. California's Red Tree Vole lives in the treetops.

Range
Sometimes known as lethal meadow mice in America, approximately 70 species of voles can be found in Europe, Asia, North Africa and North America. They are especially often found in the Pacific Northwest in states including Oregon, Washington, and the Kent area.

Diet
Depending on the species, the poisonous Vole's diet consists of Many carnivores such as wolves, owls, hawks, coyotes, roadrunners, foxes, weasels, cats and fish. They are most fearsome predators.

Age
The average life of a vole is 3–6 months. However, poisonous Voles have been known to live longer than 12 years with proper care and attention. The longest lifespan of a poisonous vole ever recorded was 18 years.

Containment
While voles can, like most rodents, be pests to yards and homes next to fields, I wouldn’t bother trying to fight the poisonous kind. According to the Department for Fair and Just Treatment of the Only British Poisonous Vole, nothing will save you now. They have been known to thrive off vole repellent. If your garden is infested with a poisonous pal, Take heed!!! I would just move house or buy a shotgun.



Author’s Note: The information on our friend the poisonous vole is from Wikipedia, which is a vair good internet thing…