Harry Potter, Conspiracy Theorist

Gah, writer's block is the most EVIL thing ever. =.= I feel as though I've written myself into a hole... A bit of revamping with my later chapters has gotten that problem mostly fixed, though. Sorry for the wait...

Hermione was a bit confused by Draco's behaviour earlier today. He seemed twitchy (almost like a ferret) and nervous. That wasn't the Malfoy she knew. As she sat next to Harry and Ron at the breakfast table, she was trying to come up with a reason why he was acting so odd.

"Hey Hermione," her two best friends chorused.

"Hi guys," she replied with a smile.

"What's got you thinkin'?" Harry asked, recognizing her thinking face.

"It's Malfoy. He was acting odd this morning. Really twitchy– like ferret twitchy."

Ron snickered at the ferret comment. "Maybe he's hiding something," he voiced.

"Yea, it seems like that..." Hermione trailed off as she saw said ferret traipse into the Great Hall, immediately seating himself with his table-mates. Their eyes met for a second – stormy grey meeting earthy brown – and then Draco sharply averted his gaze, beginning to chat with his classmates as if nothing happened.

"We should find out what his secret is!" Harry exclaimed. "Maybe it's a top secret, super confidential Death Eaters only revival rebellion type thing to avenge Voldemort in his dead ashen form!"

"What?" Ron and Hermione said simultaneously.

Harry smiled sheepishly. "It could be a bad thing...?" he said uncertainly, phrasing his previous statement a bit (or a lot) differently.

"He helped us fix Hogwarts, Harry," Hermione reasoned. "Do you really think he would try and start a Death Eater rebellion?"

"Maybe?"

Hermione's expression went from good-natured annoyance at Harry to the same expression a mother would get when a child denied stealing the last cookie after all evidence pointed at him– a cross between tired, annoyed and trying not to scream.

"You guys remembered how I said he saved me during the battle at Hogwarts, right?"

They nodded.

"So let me ask this again, do you really think he is trying to start a Death Eater rebellion, Harry?"

Harry pouted immaturely. "I'm sorry for wrongly accusing people, 'Mione," he said in an exaggeratedly childish voice.

Hermione broke into a grin as she slapped him lightly on the arm. "Grow up, Harry," she admonished with a giggle.

Harry's face instantly brightened. "But you thought I was funny, right?"

"Yes, you were hilarious," she agreed, rolling her eyes.

"I know I am."

Hermione nodded absentmindedly as her thoughts drifted off to Harry's latest conspiracy theory. What was Draco Malfoy doing?

-d-m-h-g-

Draco Malfoy was draining his goblet of pumpkin juice. He had just finished his plate of toast and eggs and was now digging in to his fresh fruit. He slightly regretted not eating much at the Welcoming Feast last night. But breakfast was better than nothing, he concluded.

"Hey Draco, how's the Head Dorm?"

The voice jarred Draco out of his thoughts.

"The Head Dorm?" he echoed, placing his fork down on the plate.

Blaise nodded slowly. "Yes, Draco– the private place where you get to stay by yourself all year without any snoring dorm mates and with a private bathroom, you lucky shit," he enunciated pointedly.

"I do have to share it with Granger, you know," Draco added. "I'm sure by the time I get back in tonight, there'll be a fort of books keeping me from even getting to my room."

Blaise snickered. "Yes, you'd hate to touch the books in fear of suffering the wrath of the bookworm!" he said, waggling his fingers in a ghostly manner around his blonde friend. Draco slapped the hands away.

"Stop it, Blaise. You look like an idiot."

"You do not hit me or suffer the wrath of... the Zabini-worm!" Blaise exclaimed dramatically, poking Draco rapidly in the ribs and arm. Trying to swat the Slytherin away was useless, so Draco just bolted out of seat right then and there, abandoning his poor breakfast.

"Merlin, Blaise, feel free to come talk to me after all that sugar leaves your system, alright? Until then, go run around the castle or something." With that, Draco departed the Great Hall and went to his (and Hermione's) dorm. He took out his pen and notebook and fished a bag of chocolates out of his trunk before sitting down on the plush couch, using the side table to write instead of sitting at his desk.

The boy with muddied, dirty blonde hair pulled back the string of his bow and aimed at the rabbit. He silently released the string and it hit the rabbit right through the heart. He carefully fished the arrow out and wiped the blood off, planning to reuse the arrow. He also slipped the dead rabbit into his rucksack.

Xander Granton has been traveling on his own for a week now. Six nights and seven days ago, he ran away from his warm home, abusive parents, and impossibly quiet and "perfect" sister. He ran out of food three days ago and was glad he thought to bring that book on poisonous plants with him. Xander put the now clean arrow back in his quiver and strapped the bow to his back once more. He guessed that he was quite a distance away from his old home now, but he still needed a place to stay.

Xander kept on walking until he reached a lake. He heard a rustle in the bushes and turned to find a pair of ducks flying up into the air behind him. He loaded an arrow and shot both of the ducks down in one shot. As the ducks hurtled down to the ground, he heard a soft gasp and a rustle come from a tree behind him.

"Who's there?" he called, aiming an arrow at the source of the sound. There was no reply. "Show yourself or I shoot!" he added. Another bush rustled behind him and he whirled around, shooting an arrow at it without hesitation. Then there was silence.

All of a sudden, a dagger was pressed against Xander's neck and a person was pressed against his back.

"I believe the question is, who are you?" a voice whispered smugly into his ear. "And why are you killing my prey?"

Xander swallowed nervously, the knife against his neck unnerving him greatly. "I had no idea they were yours. You can take them if you wish, though." He had no intention of starting a fight with whoever held a knife to his throat.

Said knife wielder released Xander from his hold. Xander whirled around to see a girl slightly shorter than him with fiery red hair and chocolate brown eyes. She looked about 17 years old, just like him.

"You're a girl?" he asked impulsively, eyebrows darting up.

She smirked as she picked up the dead ducks. "Your powers of perception are quite whelming," she quipped smugly.

"Who are you?"

"I am Zatanna Murphy. Who are you?"

She had a slight accent, one that Xander couldn't quite place. Romanian or Russian perhaps, but very light. She pronounced her w's as v's, short i's as long e's, and rolled her r's ever so slightly. She even pronounced Murphy more like Morphy with a long O.

"Xander. Xander... Grant," he replied, not giving his real last name for fear of being discovered.

"Okay, Xander Grant, what are you doing all alone in the woods?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"Why, I'm with the circus of course," she explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We're set up in the clearing just a few minutes west. I know for a fact that you aren't part of the circus, though. Explain."

Draco flipped to the next page of his notebook, taking a quick glance at the clock. It had been about an hour. He decided to go take a quick shower before Blaise decided to get his (hopefully) not hyper butt over to see the Head's Dorm.

When Draco came down after showering, dressed but hair still damp, he saw a brown haired girl on the couch holding what looked like his notebook. His eyes widened and he darted over.

"Granger, where did you get that!" he demanded.

"I found it on the sofa," she answered innocently. "Is it yours?"

"Yes, it is mine!" he yelled in an unnecessarily loud voice as he snatched it out of her hands, causing Hermione to shrink back a bit.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea," she replied meekly. "I was just curious."

"Well next time ask, if you will," he huffed, grabbing his chocolates and pen and storming up into his room.

-d-m-h-g-

Draco had the House Elves bring him dinner in his dorm that night. He felt a bit guilty after blowing up at Granger like that. But he wasn't one for apologies (and wasn't very good at them) and hoped it would blow over by tomorrow. He wasn't in the mood to write (shocker!) so he just picked at his chicken and salad half heartedly. It all tasted bitter to him.

Draco was startled out of his mini depression by a knock at his door.

"Malfoy, are you in there? It's me, Hermione."

Draco got up and placed his half done plate on the dresser. Then he went to open the door. Behind it was Hermione, holding a plate with some fruit and two vanilla fairy cakes.

"I'm sorry about blowing up at you," Draco blurted out as Hermione said, "I'm sorry for looking at your notebook."

Hermione laughed softly.

"I'm sorry for looking at your notebook without asking," she repeated.

"It's fine. I'm sorry for blowing up at you," he said.

There was a brief silence.

"Come in," Draco said, stepping aside so the Head Girl could step in. She smiled at him and walked in.

"Um... You're a good writer," she said awkwardly, sitting gingerly on his bed. He sat beside her.

"Thanks..."

"Would you like some fruit or a cake? I saw that you didn't come down for supper."

Draco nodded gratefully and took a slice of fruit.

"So," Hermione started, "what is your story about? From what I read, it seemed very interesting."

"Oh. Well it's about this boy who runs away from his abusive parents and meets this girl who offers him a place in the circus she's a part of."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "I've always liked stories about the circus. One of my favourite things to draw are pictures of the acrobats there."

"You can draw?" Draco asked before he could stop it.

Hermione smiled sheepishly. "A bit."

Draco spent almost a full ten minutes trying to convince her to draw, but she was too self conscious. He then made it his personal mission to get her to draw. They spent a while just talking about drawings and the plot of his story. When the Dorm's grandfather clock chimed midnight, Hermione was startled to say the least.

"Wow, we've been chatting for five hours!" she exclaimed before yawning. "I suppose I should be getting to sleep now. Tomorrow's the last day of rest before classes start!"

Draco nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow Granger."

"Please, call me Hermione," she said with a smile.

"Well Hermione, I am Draco. Pleased to meet you."

Her smile grew into a grin. "Good night to you, Mal– I mean Draco."

"You too, Gr – Hermione."

Draco closed the door behind her and collapsed onto his bed. Then he noticed that the plate Hermione brought up was still sitting on his nightstand. She had eaten her fairy cake a while ago, but his was still there. Smiling to himself, he took it and slowly ate the cake, savoring its sugary sweetness.

Maybe it was just him, but it seemed to taste a bit sweeter knowing that all was well with him and Hermione again.

Maybe.

That ending could have been better... XP

And I seriously love Zatanna's accent. :3

AAAAH, REFERENCES REFERENCES WHO GETS THE REFERENCES!?