Better Than Revenge

Chapter One: Quidditch

"I hate Quidditch," she muttered to herself as she stomped toward the portrait hole that led out of the Gryffindor common room.

The way Hermione Granger saw it, nothing good ever came from Quidditch. Harry almost died from the sport basically every year he played; in second year, poor Colin Creevey had been petrified all for wanting to simply photograph the violent game; that stupid broom of Harry's had cost her her friendship with the boys in third year; the Death Eaters had terrified everyone with their torture spree at the World Cup just before fourth. Harry, Fred, and George were lucky not to have been expelled last year with their ridiculous fight with Malfoy after one of the matches.

From Hermione's perspective, there was nothing good about the violent sport all of the boys seemed to obsess over.

Hermione should have known this year wouldn't be any different.

Watching the rowdy students celebrate was infuriating, but expected. There was a party every time Gryffindor won their match. Fred and George would pass around butterbeer for everyone while they still attended Hogwarts; Lee Jordan had taken over that job this year. Someone would be sent to the kitchens to gather pastries and snacks. The record player that usually sat quietly in the corner, its accompanying shelves full of dusty records ranging from ancient wizarding composers to the Weird Sisters to the Beatles, would be charmed to play loud enough to shake the whole tower.

This was all normal. Hermione had learned to turn a blind eye to the alcohol, as long as nobody got too inebriated, and even treated herself to a few desserts. She liked to dance when she knew the song and she appreciated when a few of her muggle favorites would come on.

This party was nothing out of the ordinary for Gryffindor tower. The drinks were being passed around, the pastries were offloaded onto a table somewhere, and the vibrations of a fun wizard tune fueled the dancing students.

Watching her best friend snog her roommate? Now that was new.

Watching Ron snog Lavender in front of their whole house was not only infuriating, but it also crushed Hermione to the core. Hadn't they decided to go to Slughorn's party together? Was she mistaken when she assumed a recent increase of mutual affectionate behavior meant that he had feelings for her too? Even Harry thought he'd be a third wheel before Christmas break.

She felt like she had been led on. She felt betrayed. She felt angry and sad and jealous and spiteful all at once.

The curly-haired witch wouldn't – no, couldn't – stand to watch Ron stick his tongue down Lavender's throat any longer.

She pushed past her best friend, Harry, on her way out of the common room. He made a move to come along, but she shot him a look that said 'I don't want to be followed' before slamming the portrait hole shut.

She could still hear the cheering students from the corridor so she took a few deep breaths before deciding she'd go for a walk towards the dungeons to get a cup of tea from the kitchens.

Draco'd had enough of the Slytherin common room. Everyone was moping around, Crabbe and Goyle kept asking questions he couldn't answer, and the occasional shouting match would explode whenever a first-year mindlessly hummed Weasley is our King in front of someone who took the stupid game too seriously.

Up until this year, Draco would be one of those angry Quidditch followers. He'd probably still be on the team if he wasn't so occupied by his new responsibilities.

With the current state of the common room, he couldn't focus. He needed some coffee before he could gather his thoughts and return to the Room of Hidden Things for another go at the bloody cabinet.

The two tasks he was given by the Dark Lord were taking their toll on his body. His face bore darkening circles underneath his eyes. The worry lines on his forehead seemed like they would never fade. He was somehow more pale than usual and he could feel his weight drop with his appetite.

He cursed his awful father for forcing this life upon him. He would have been happy avoiding the Death Eater life altogether. He'd rather have the privilege of quietly taking classes and playing Quidditch and getting in trouble with Snape for talking in class, not for accidentally cursing a student instead of the headmaster.

These tasks felt impossible. He'd been at the cabinet almost every day since he got back to Hogwarts a month ago and there had been no progress at all. The damn thing used extremely advanced magic, it was a ridiculous task for any sixth year Slytherin to accomplish. He suspected The Dark Lord set this task with the intention for him to fail, only wanting an excuse to annihilate the entire Malfoy line.

Draco only agreed to take the Mark in hopes it would buy him time to protect his mother. Merlin knew she was deteriorating in the wake of her husband's choices, abuse, and incarceration. This summer, he'd walked in on his mother's deafening sobs more times than he cared to admit.

More than anything, he wanted this over with. He wanted to come out on the other side of this lunatic's antics with his life and his mother. He wanted to settle down with her in the countryside somewhere, or near the sea, or maybe even somewhere else in Europe that she'd enjoy.

But until that could happen, he needed to make sure she didn't become another victim of bloodshed for blood supremacy. He had to fix the damn cabinet and he had to murder his headmaster.

Draco stood up from his spot on the leather couch and pushed past his brainless minions as he made his way out of the common room. Crabbe and Goyle made a move to follow him, but Draco shot them a look that said 'I don't want to be followed' before slamming the large oak door shut.

Taking a few deep breaths, the blonde brushed his fingers through his hair before climbing the stairs out of the dungeons to the kitchen where he could get a cup of coffee.

.

.

A/N: Welcome to my very first attempt at FanFiction! Very special thanks to Rachelletwin2, my incredibly helpful and generous Beta, without whom, this story would be nothing but an idea in my mind. The chapters in this story will be short to start but will get longer as the story develops. I already have 17 chapters written, so I intend to post regularly every Friday. Mild language will be used throughout the story, but I intend to keep it suitable for teenage readers.

Disclaimer: All publically recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling.

Many thanks to anyone who takes the time to read this story, OxfordElise