wrong ||| dramione

Year Four || Different

November

Mad-Eye Moody was certainly the strangest teacher they'd ever had. Stranger than Lockhart, Quirrell, Hagrid, Trelawney... one could go on.

He gave them a whole lecture on the Imperius Curse. Hermione tried to protest, but he wouldn't have it - he called it "an important part of the curriculum" and she shut up, unhappily silenced.

- Now when someone's under the Imperius Curse they can act funny... Not eat normally, nor sleep. Their actions look mechanical. They're driven by only one goal in life - to do their master's bidding. It's very hard to discern between someone under an Imperius Curse and someone-

Draco wasn't even listening. He was looking out of the window, trying not to think about Granger and that she was just a few desks away from him.

- someone in love, - Mad-Eye chuckled, winking at Hermione which made her blush angrily and sit there, wishing they'd had a different teacher that year.

But Draco was far away. It had been difficult the past few days, not to imagine what life might have been like. He thought he was the kind who didn't fall for anyone - well, he'd had his share of crushes as a very young boy, but to think he would moon over someone from his year, let alone a Mud-

He mentally stopped himself. What was the use of insulting her? What was the use of anything? She wasn't noticing him nor would she any time soon. She was with that odious Krum figure now. He had torn off the posters with Krum's face on them off the walls of his dormitory, almost cutting himself with the paper in the process. 

For Draco, there were only two kinds of days. Days when he was depressed and days when he was angry.

Today was a depressing day.

- oi. You. Malfoy, is it?

He looked up, startled and gazed at Mad-Eye. Somewhere in him the fear still lurked that he would turn him into a ferret again, but he was too low today to care.

- Yes, sir...?

"Yes sir" - Weasley parodied him somewhere behind him.

- What did I just say?

Never in his life could Draco get used to the fact that he sometimes got questions wrong and failed at simple tasks. In his mind he was always perfect, always intelligent, always brave. And if things didn't turn out the way he thought they would - well, it was everybody else's fault.

He decided to guess.

- That the Imperius curse only works on the weak-minded, sir?

Mad-Eye roared with laughter and the Gryffindors laughed with him. Draco could swear he heard a couple of Slytherins snicker.

- Weak-minded, indeed... tell me, has one been inflicted on you lately, Malfoy? Why the long face?

Draco sat up, feeling everybody's eyes turn on him. Was she looking too?

This was somehow worse than anything - worse than being turned into a ferret or having a spider on his face.

- I don't feel too well, sir - he lied through his teeth and kicked Goyle sharply under the table to prevent any laughs from him. He got him in the shin and Goyle bit his lip not to cry out.

- Oh, aye? I see... From the look of it, you're either suffering from indigestion either mooning over an unreachable damsel. If you ever need some Amortentia, feel free to ask.

He hit Draco on the shoulder playfully and went on with his lecture. Draco sat there, the world reduced to a low blurry hum... for a second, he was almost sure he would cry.