Second Place - Comedy

When you give me that pretty little pout
It turns me inside out
There's something about you
Isn't it amazing a man like me can feel this way?

The day they decided to stage a pre-emptive strike against Voldemort was, in Zacharias' opinion, comedy gold.

"We can't hide in here like rats," Harry Potter said impressively. "We have to do something!"

"Well, God forbid we let the adults get on with it," Zacharias murmured.

"What did you say?" Harry snapped. He was even more irritable of late.

"He was agreeing with you," Draco told Harry, wide-eyed. "After all, this is a school, isn't it? What is it for but mortal danger!"

Harry scowled at them and returned to his plan of operations. It was actually rather a good plan, until you got the part where Harry had drawn the Dark Lord and then added an artistic pool of blood, several daggers, some crossbow bolts and a few signs saying 'Die Voldemort Die!' and 'Take That You Bastard!!!'

Far be it from Zacharias to murmur 'Overkill.'

"To arms, Hogwarts," he said instead in Draco's ear, and they both snickered discreetly.

"This is a plot to imprison the Hufflepuffs between you and the Dark Lord, isn't it," Ernie said darkly.

"No, Ernie," said at least half a dozen voices.

Ernie cast a baleful look around. "Ah. So you're all in it, are you?"

"I said it too, Ernie," Susan informed him briskly.

"Shame on you, Susan!"

"Please focus!" Harry snapped. "If you people had been face to face with Voldemort, looking into his cruel red eyes-"

He went on for a while. Zacharias leaned forward and blew in Draco's ear.

A boy had to amuse himself somehow.

The pointer snapped in Harry's hands.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked in the worried voice of one whose friend had Episodes.

"Fine," Harry said in a strangled voice. "Fine. Just thinking of Voldemort." He snapped the pointer in a few more pieces. "He makes me angry," he added absently.

"Harry, that was my wand," Ron Weasley objected plaintively.

"Oh, stop whining, it's not like it's the first time," Harry snapped. "You could complain if you'd ever had the only person you loved murdered in front of your-"

"Oh, write a book, Potter," Draco grumbled.

Zacharias tilted himself in the chair to speak into Draco's ear. "He could call it 'Harry Potter and the Series of Tragically Undeserved Catastrophes'," he suggested quietly. " 'Harry Potter and the Persecution Complex.'"

Draco sniggered.

"What are you two talking about?" Harry demanded.

Zacharias shrugged. "Sex," he said blandly.

Justin made a faint sound and slipped off his chair. Harry began to stab the picture of Voldemort with the broken bits of Ron Weasley's wand.

"And so," he said in a distracted tone, grinding the splintered ends down into the board, "we sneak into Voldemort's meeting in couples of spies, and we learn some secrets, which we use for the destruction of Voldemort, which will obviously end up in us stabbing his black heart over and over and over again."

Zacharias absently stroked Draco's collarbone and watched with mild interest as Harry made a hole in the board.

"Harry, be careful," Hermione admonished.

"Sorry," said Harry. "Just thinking about Voldemort again. He makes me very very angry, you know."

Draco suddenly jumped.

"Someone just felt me up under the table," he exclaimed in horrified tones.

"Whoops, I thought you were Zacharias," said a muffled voice.

Zacharias thought this universal confusion was quite ridiculous.

"Justin!" Susan said crossly.

"Leave him alone!" Ernie said. "He's practising for the time when Hufflepuffs are hunted around the globe, and we must resort to guerrilla tactics. More power to you, comrade!"

"So are you all ready to die nobly for the cause of light?" Harry asked in an exasperated voice.

Zacharias put his hand up. "Actually, we only die if we're caught, right?"

"Well, yes," Harry conceded.

"And that's a fairly spectacular failure for a spy, isn't it?" Zacharias inquired. "So it would be more a case of dying stupidly for the cause of light."

Harry looked as if he was going to grind his teeth in a minute. "Well, are you all ready to risk death nobly for the cause of light?"

Draco squinted. "What are the alternatives, precisely?"

Zacharias shrugged.

They went to Professor Snape to be briefed.

"Well, an important thing to remember is to wander around constantly muttering sinister death threats against those on the side of light," he advised, peering at them through his hair.

"That must be hard to keep in mind," Draco said respectfully.

Professor Snape blinked. "What? No... no, actually I find it comes quite naturally..."

"Fascinating," Zacharias observed neutrally.

"I'm concerned about this plan," Professor Snape said. "It's reckless and dangerous and deeply pointless."

"Well, it's Harry Potter's plan," Zacharias explained. What else did people expect?

"I pointed this out to the headmaster," Professor Snape muttered. "I said, the children could die. He just chuckled, in that very pleasant way, 'Boys will be boys.'"

"I am somewhat in awe of that man," Zacharias remarked.

"I want him to be fired and then dismembered," Draco said.

Zacharias shrugged. "You have these little urges."

Professor Snape squinted at them, through the veil of apparently petroleum-coated hair.

"You two appear to be holding hands," he said.

"He is my boyfriend," Draco explained. "It is a great privilege and responsibility for him."

"Something like that, yes," said Zacharias.

"Happy, fulfilled little couples..." Snape murmured bitterly. "Surely it's not right. You can never be happy at school."

"Sir, you're a teacher," Zacharias said. "You spend your whole life at school."

The nose poked out of the hair, as if scenting blood. "So?" Snape snapped. "What's your point?"

Zacharias shrugged. "No point."

At that point, Argus Filch wandered in clutching a large black book.

Snape darted a furtive look at Draco and Zacharias. "Well, boys," he said. "I think that's plenty of briefing for you. Filch and I have many things to discuss. We recently discovered many - ah - common interests."

Zacharias looked with interest at the front of the book. Inscribed on it in gold lettering were the words 'Whippings, Canings, Chainings, Thumbscrews, Ye Olde Stocks, The Top 100 Guide to PUNISHMENT.'

"What are you staring at?" Filch hissed.

Zacharias shrugged.

Zacharias was woken up the next morning by an urgent hand on his shoulder.

"No, honestly, Justin, I'm trying to sleep," he said. "I don't care if they do demand strenuous physical exertion every morning at Eton. And I believe many of them may simply do push-ups."

"I'm not Justin," snapped Harry Potter.

Zacharias, who still intermittently had dreams in which Harry Potter had transferred his Voldemort dreams to Zacharias through saliva and Zacharias was forced to listen to speeches even in his sleep, hauled his covers up to his neck.

"What did you want?" he inquired frostily. He made every effort not to sneer, in case that was what set Harry Potter off and reduced him to a frenzied ball of lust.

"We start out now!" Harry said in low, conspiratorial tones. "You wake the others. I'll, I'd better go and, hm, I'd probably better go wake up the Slytherins."

Zacharias had a detached admiration for the creative moral mindset of the Gryffindors, which was clearly justifying Harry's attempts to steal Zacharias' boyfriend even as they spoke.

"I'll come with you," he agreed calmly.

"No, oh no, you needn't," Harry said. "You wake up the other Hufflepuffs."

Zacharias got up and knocked briskly on Ernie's bedpost.

"Doom! The end is nigh! The Dark Lord has attacked! To the root cellar!" shouted Ernie, as he did every morning.

"Justin, I'm getting changed," Zacharias said calmly.

Justin sat bolt upright, quivering like a pointer yearning for the open fields.

"They'll wake the others," Zacharias said amiably. "Shall we go?"

Harry's eyes were narrowed.

They went to the Slytherin rooms in silence. Zacharias led the way into Draco's private room, which, bless his scheming little heart, he had bribed his way into on the second day of first year.

He placidly let Harry jerk open the curtains, and only allowed himself a small smile when a crossbow was pointed at Harry's face.

Harry went cross-eyed.

Draco opened his eyes, looked irritable and tried to smooth back his ruffled hair. "Zacharias," he said, and smiled. Then his face reverted into its habitual scowl. "Why did you bring Potter with you?"

Zacharias leaned against the bedpost.

"He's not a love gift. He's here to be our fearless leader and take us off to spy."

"Coming into my bedroom to take me on a noble mission," Draco sniffed. "Fine boyfriend you are."

Zacharias shrugged. "I'm willing to take suggestions."

Draco looked mollified. "That is as it should be. Excuse me, I need to get my hair in order."

He began rummaging under his covers, and produced his ivory-handled brush, his hair gel, his lavender oil, his scented hair perfume and his curler.

"You keep hair care products in your bed?" Harry asked incredulously.

Draco's tone was very cool. "Did you have a point, Potter?"

"No, no," Harry said hastily. "So, you keep a crossbow under your pillow. In case of invasion? Maybe I should do that."

"He just keeps it under there to shoot the house elves when they're late with his morning coffee," Zacharias said casually.

"What!"

Zacharias shrugged. "He only wings them."

"That's disgusting," Harry told Draco severely.

"Don't talk to me about disgusting," Draco sniffed. "You wear corduroy. Don't try to lie to me. I've seen it with my own eyes."

Harry's voice was shaking. "You think that common humanity is less important than sartorial choices?"

Draco looked blank. "Obviously."

Harry looked like he was searching for a detailed, vocal way to describe his outrage. Unfortunately, Gryffindors were not all that creative. He snarled and lunged at Draco.

Draco tried to brain him with his bottle of lavender oil.

A brief and intense struggle followed.

Two boys in pyjamas rolling around in furious heated combat, ending up wrestling on the bedclothes. Zacharias leaned against the bedpost some more and was aware of the brief, annoyed thought that it would have been nice if Harry Potter had turned out to be a Squib and gone to Eton, where he so clearly belonged.

Then he sat on the bed and smoothed a hand down the small of Draco's back.

"Draco," he said. "These are percale sheets. His blood will mess them up."

Draco stilled, and leaned back against him. "You're right, of course," he said. "You have the best priorities."

"I like to think so," Zacharias answered lightly, and kissed Draco on the back of the neck.

He put an arm casually around Draco, who looked rumpled and sleepy and a bit like an aggravated kitten. Draco sighed and leaned against his chest and Zacharias looked over Draco's shoulder at Harry Potter, who was lying back on Draco's pillows looking frustrated. He kissed the back of Draco's neck again.

Harry ground his teeth with audible squeaks.

"Why are you making those peculiar sounds, you demented little person?" Draco asked loftily.

"Thinking about Voldemort," Harry answered in a tight voice. "The way I do sometimes."

"Ah," said Zacharias, leaning his chin in the bare, pale hollow between Draco's neck and shoulder.

"Argh," said Harry. "Voldemort makes me furious."

"He's gone completely round the bend," Draco said in Zacharias' ear. "I wonder if I can be leader when he gets sent to St Mungo's."

Zacharias shrugged.

Eventually, all of them were assembled in their meeting place.

"Are you all ready to face the Dark Lord?" Harry asked, with that ominous look Zacharias thought he practised in the mirror.

Ginny tipped back her head, trailing her hands sensuously up her body. "Oh yes, Harry," she murmured huskily, and cupped her breasts. "I'm so ready..."

"Excellent," said Harry in an absent-minded sort of way, and returned to his plan of operations.

Zacharias and Draco were talking idly under their breath.

"Right, so you're Switzerland," Draco was calculating in an interested way. "And I suppose Potter would be England."

"So if Harry's England, then Hermione is Wales, and Ron is Scotland," Zacharias deduced.

"But this school is-" Draco said, and squawked with horror. "Agh! I'm in Ron Weasley!"

Ron's head jerked up.

"What, he gets to join in as well?" Justin demanded. "Am I being purposely excluded?"

"Is this code?" Ernie asked.

Zacharias shrugged. Draco scowled at everyone. Clearly, the country game had been soured for him forever.

Ron was looking a little faint. Ernie's paper bag got passed down.

"So many shins to kick, so little time," Draco said darkly, and laced his fingers through Zacharias' instead.

Harry began to gnaw on his own wand.

Ginny Weasley spotted this and a sudden, disturbing light appeared in her eyes. As everyone else began to put on their Death Eater robes she wandered up to Draco and draped herself on his lap.

"I'm quite open for a three-way," she purred, licking her finger and dragging it down between her breasts. "Anything for my man."

Draco wailed in horror.

"Zacharias, it's a Weasley! Get it off! Get it off! Surely there's some sort of vermin repellent?"

"Ginny," Zacharias said politely. "Would this be a good time for you to stop violating my boyfriend's person?"

Draco stood up, dislodging her.

"I don't care what anyone says," Ron said, staring levelly over Ginny's head, "she is my sweet little sister. She's just outgoing and vivacious."

Draco was trembling. "She's humping my leg!"

"Ginny, he really is taken."

"All right," Ginny said, thrusting energetically. "A four-way, then. I don't mind. You've got a sort of honey-blond calm thing going on. I get that."

"I'd rather not," Zacharias replied diplomatically.

"Stop profaning my flesh, Weasley," Draco said in a voice dangerously close to insanity.

Zacharias thoughtfully passed Draco a vase and he began to beat Ginny over the head with it.

Harry shook himself out of his clearly deep and gloomy thoughts. "Sorry, is Ginny doing something? I didn't really notice."

Zacharias shrugged.

They approached the lair of the Dark Lord, which was exactly where Snape and Draco had said it would be.

Apparently, everybody else was actually surprised to find out it was under a fast food restaurant.

"Well, I don't even know what a McDonut's is," Draco defended himself. "How am I supposed to know it's evil?"

"McDonald's," Zacharias corrected.

They continued creeping towards the dark and dreadful entrance.

"I've been thinking about our relationship," Draco said conversationally, because the stealthy pace Harry had them going at was making the trip last an awfully long time.

"Is this the time?" Zacharias asked mildly.

"Don't question me, Hufflepuff!" Draco could be like that.

"Okay," Zacharias said.

"I think you should join Slytherin," Draco said. "That would make me happy. So you have to. This is how relationships work."

"No, I don't think I will," Zacharias said placidly.

"You can still be Switzerland. Just, like, Switzerland with ruder signs on the skiing slopes."

"No," Zacharias repeated.

"Zacharias, I don't like that word very much."

"I like being a Hufflepuff," Zacharias told him serenely.

Draco's face scrunched up. "Why?"

"I'm loyal," Zacharias answered.

"What to?"

Zacharias considered. "Me."

He had looked around, and found himself a very worthwhile object of allegiance.

"Isn't that just another way of saying you're selfish?"

Zacharias shrugged.

It was Draco's turn to consider. "I suppose that means we are fiendishly compatible," he said in a slightly happier voice.

"That's right," Zacharias replied. "Anyway, I'm Muggleborn."

Draco choked.

"Did I forget to tell you?" said Zacharias.

"Yes," said Draco. "You're supposed to be a slave!"

"All right," Zacharias agreed calmly. "I'll be your love slave."

Draco turned this over in his mind. "I suppose that would be acceptable," he said haughtily.

That was settled just in time, as they reached the entrance to the Dark Lord's lair at this point.

"Hail, fellow... tiny Death Eaters," said the doorman.

"Hail," Harry said. "Er... we are indeed very small, for fully adult Death Eaters... Because we are all bastard Slytherins, whose growth was stunted in the unhealthy dungeons, cut off from the sunlight. Embrace the shrimplike powers of darkness! Muahahaha."

The doorman stared at him. Draco covered his eyes in shame.

"Password," he grunted at last.

"I'll handle this, you twit," Draco said, pushing forward. "Ah, that is, brother twit in darkness." He turned to face the doorman and intoned, "Screw Harry Potter."

"Sideways."

"Backwards."

"And upside down," concluded the doorman, heartily. He and Draco locked pinky fingers and waggled them around. "Wif wif wif."

"Plib plib plib," Draco returned, in tones that suggested all the heart had been taken out of him.

"Pass, brothers," the doorman said, and then stopped Harry. "Hey... the scar on your forehead kind of looks like Harry Potter's."

"Er, what scar?" asked Harry, nervously twitching down the hood of his cloak.

"Here, take my card," said the doorman. "Call me anytime."

"You're a Death Eater!" Harry almost screamed. "Um, as am I," he added quickly.

"Well, yes," said the doorman. "I run a celebrity impersonator agency in my spare time."

They went into the large cave full of evil people. Zacharias could tell they were evil because of all the black, and also the fact that they were nibbling tiny bits of salmon on little sticks. Fishy behaviour.

"So far things seem to be going well," he observed.

He should have known better, he realised, when a man with a silver hand grabbed him and Draco and shoved them against a wall.

"Thank God you two are here. The regular boys have cancelled," he said.

"Oh no, not again," said Draco.

"You two are the only ones who fit the physical description! Perform your duty as loyal servants of the Dark Lord!" The man sniffled suddenly. "I'd do it myself, but last time my lord shrieked extremest scorn at me, and had me kicked off."

"Oh, fine," Draco agreed, looking ill.

He took Zacharias' hand and began to lead him through the crowds.

"Who was that man?" Zacharias asked.

"Wormtail," Draco answered succinctly.

Zacharias paused for a speculative moment. "Why's he called Wormtail?"

"I... don't know," Draco answered slowly.

They shared a look of fear.

Then Draco scrambled onto a large, revolving silver platform, dragging Zacharias up with him. From there, Zacharias could see a large throne with red neon lights on the top, and a bald, red-eyed man sitting in it.

He was disappointed that Voldemort was not stroking a cat, but he had more important things on his mind.

"Draco," he said. "What's going on?"

"We have to dance," Draco explained distractedly, taking Zacharias' Death Eater robes off and then tackling his own. They were thankfully wearing jeans and T-shirts underneath. "That's why the Dark Lord is so into racial purity, of course. To breed the pretty blond boys."

At this juncture, Voldemort began to cackle. This was clearly a signal, since the spotlight went on the platform.

Zacharias spoke out of the corner of his mouth. "Voldemort wants pureblood blond slave boys who dance for him?"

"Sure." Draco looked puzzled. "Well, if you ruled the world, what would you want?"

"I don't want to rule the world. Hufflepuff, remember? Not much with the ambition."

"But..." Draco spluttered. "But it's the world!"

"What would I do with it?"

Draco's voice was plaintive. "Get tribute?"

"Eh. I can live without tribute."

"I wouldn't call it living," Draco sniffed. "Zacharias - do you, you know, mind shaking your booty for the Dark Lord?"

Zacharias shrugged.

'Like a Virgin' began to play. Zacharias wondered exactly how horrible the torture was for discovered spies, and if it could be worse.

"What should we d-" he began, and then looked at Draco.

Draco was already shimmying.

"Oh."

"My father made me take lessons," Draco explained, rolling his hips in a really mildly interesting way. "He knew it would be required. Don't ask me how he knew. I like to repress that question."

He ran his hands through his hair, pure silver in the spotlight, and rolled his hips again.

In the crowd, Harry Potter was staring, and Ginny Weasley was taking notes.

Zacharias was not entirely sure how to proceed. This was an unfamiliar feeling for him.

Draco glanced over at him, and came to his rescue. He came over to Zacharias and began to rub against him. Zacharias rubbed back, and found some sort of rhythm.

He cheered up. Voldemort hired go-go boys. People killed him.

Draco was grinding against him, head thrown back, hands sliding down his own chest. He really did dance rather well.

Zacharias co-operated in the spy effort by replacing Draco's hands with his own. Draco's throat was white in the spotlight, and so Zacharias felt it would be a good tactical move to suck on it, and then Draco twisted and there was a rather blurry and heated period of dancing.

The song ended and Voldemort thumped his fist on his chair and cheered enthusiastically.

"These slave boys dance well. Give them extra kibble!" he exclaimed.

Wormtail helped them down. "That was brilliant," he whispered. "The master is very pleased. The grinding and the kissing was a stroke of genius."

"It just came to us," Zacharias said.

"I am a genius in the arts of love," Draco announced smugly, and then began to fix his hair.

Wormtail gave him a bitter look. "You remind me of a boy I knew once," he said. "Of course, he had black hair... black as ebony... black as midnight... 'I'm sorry, Peter, I just don't like you that way...' Bastard!"

"I'm sure," Zacharias told him. "We have to be not standing next to you anymore."

They sidled towards the others, who all gave them rather odd looks.

Justin could only whimper feebly and paw the front of their shirts. Draco scowled and batted him severely away.

"Aha," said Ernie. "So the Dark Lord wants to kidnap the Hufflepuffs and make them dance. Foul fiend!"

"Are you sure you want to be in Hufflepuff with these basket cases?" Draco asked, eyeing Ernie and Justin dubiously.

"They grow on you," Zacharias replied composedly. "Anyway, Susan is much more sensible, and young Reena is really quite attractive."

Draco looked indignant. "Nobody is attractive but me, Zacharias," he reminded him. "That is how relationships work."

Zacharias shrugged. "All right."

Harry Potter, who had been standing around with his eyes glazed over, seemed to snap out of it.

"Right then, well done, we penetrated the dark heart of the enemy's lair. Did we get information?"

"Absolutely," said Ginny, busy with her diagrams.

"Then follow me on our retreat," Harry said. "I also kicked the back of Voldemort's chair. Of course, I stubbed my toe. I hate him! He truly is evil!"

Zacharias was faintly appalled when he ended up spearheading the retreat with Harry Potter. Ah, well.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," Harry said.

"I wasn't worried."

"Even though you hate me," Harry carried on obliviously.

"I don't hate you," Zacharias said. "I'm just not particularly impressed by you. You seem to defeat evil schemes adequately, but on a day to day basis you are not riveting."

"Ah, so you're my friend with a heart of gold under a rough exterior," Harry said.

"No," Zacharias said. "I am fairly indifferent towards you. Occasionally you annoy me and I say so. Usually, I could care less."

Harry looked perplexed. "I don't understand..."

"Indifference or ambivalence are attitudes that can also be adopted towards people, Harry."

"But, wait..." Harry frowned. "Do you hate me, thus making you evil, or do you like me, thus making you good? I didn't quite-"

Zacharias shrugged. "It doesn't matter, Potter. Let it go."

Zacharias attempted to slip back through the crowd to Draco, but ended up with Justin instead. Justin was frowning.

"Dancing with another chap is a little bit, you know, homosexual," he said in a worried voice.

"Well spotted, Justin."

"Especially, I think, with the, er, rubbing and kissing and licking and stuff."

"You make a valid point there," Zacharias agreed calmly.

"Zacharias, I think you're letting the side down a bit. That's not very old school tie of you, is it? I mean... don't want people saying you're light on your feet, know what I mean? A shirt lifter? A pillow biter? A sausage jockey?"

"I am rather light on my feet," Zacharias observed. "I've lost weight recently. Thanks for noticing."

Zacharias felt a hand slip into his back pocket.

"If you like," said Justin, "I could give you a few pointers on how to be, ah, manly..." He breathed against Zacharias' neck.

"I'd really rather not, Justin."

Justin removed his hand with a tragic expression. "I was attacked by a basilisk, you know," he said piteously. "I was assaulted by a giant snake."

"It's left its mark on you, Justin," Zacharias told him solemnly, and slipped further back into the crowd.

That was when all the lights went out.

"Oh no, we've been discovered!" Hermione cried.

"Oh, bugger," said another voice. "The power's out again. It's the revolving platform and the neon lights in His Dark Lordship's special chair that does it. Hang on, brothers of midnight. I'll have it working again in a jiffy."

"Zacharias," said Draco's familiar imperious voice. "That had better be you holding my hand."

Zacharias cleared his throat, his in-the-dark equivalent of a shrug. "Actually," he answered mildly, "it's not."

"Oh, Justin," Susan exclaimed in a despairing voice.

"What?" Justin demanded. "It's not me! This time I swear it's really not!"

Harry Potter's voice was uneven. "Don't lie, Justin. You evil - liar person."

The lights went back on. Harry Potter was a very respectable distance from Draco with his cheeks flushed.

Ernie sidled up to Zacharias. "I think it's an evil plot against the Hufflepuffs' love life," he said dramatically. "But who could be trying to steal away the pointy boy of your dreams?"

Zacharias shrugged.

That night at headquarters, Harry made it clear that he was very disappointed in all of them.

"What do you mean, none of you got any helpful information?" he demanded. "And no, Ginny, your dance moves don't count, so please stop trying to show them to me." He patted her head absentmindedly. "Sweet of you to try and help, though," he added. "Good girl."

Ginny squirmed orgasmically under his hand, which he entirely failed to notice.

"Well, Harry, where's your information?" Hermione asked reasonably.

"I was distracted by something," Harry answered, and then went red. "I was thinking about the wrongs done me by Voldemort," he continued, getting steadily redder. "And craving vengeance. He makes me very angry."

Reminded of this, he lapsed into gloomy, furious silence. Hermione prudently kept her wand out of his reach.

Terry Boot leaned over to Zacharias.

"He looks so full of rage," he said in hushed tones.

Draco looked cross. "I think he looks constipated," he said in significantly less hushed tones.

Zacharias smiled at him. "Maybe he's enraged about his constipation," he suggested pacifically.

Draco smirked back.

Harry told them all how disappointed he was in them again, his wronged glance around the room reminding everyone that he was a justifiably very angry and incidentally orphaned boy.

Zacharias thought he might have some of the qualities of a more subtle Justin.

"I think I have to give another speech about the terrible things Voldemort does," he said, glancing around in a tortured fashion. "You people just don't seem to understand."

"Does it make you angry, Potter?" Draco asked, sotto voce.

He and Zacharias kept perfectly straight faces as Harry glared at them.

"Yes, I think I will give a speech," he said vengefully.

"I think I will have a little nap," Draco said philosophically. He yawned a tiny bit and curled up in his chair, resting his head against Zacharias' shoulder.

Zacharias leaned back as Draco got comfortable, and steadfastly avoided Justin's soulful look over his head. He absently began to stroke Draco's hair.

Harry spun and kicked the wall.

"Sorry," he said between clenched teeth. "It's Voldemort. Sometimes the rage overpowers me."

There was a chorus of sympathetic murmurs and nods.

"The rage overpowers you and you go on murderous sprees," Ernie put in. "Is that what you mean? Is this a confession?"

"Please, Ernie, behave," Susan said.

She turned around in her chair to face Zacharias as Harry Potter began to describe their absymal, utter, total failure as spies.

"The side of light seems a little bit incompetent," she said ruefully.

"It's nice to know nothing changes," Zacharias nodded.

Susan looked upset. Draco made a little sound in his sleep and Susan's face softened.

"He really is rather sweet," she said. Zacharias wished that Draco could have heard that. It would have made him splutter. "Are you going to keep him?"

"I think perhaps I will," Zacharias told her.

"Aw," Susan said absently. "Mind you, I would've pegged Justin as that one of us."

Zacharias shrugged. "What are you going to do."

"As long as you're happy," said Susan.

She paused just then to examine Ernie's parchment, where he had written 'Conspiracy Theory #2347 - Harry Potter has forbidden questions at the end of his speech. Hufflepuffs damned to silence?'

Zacharias considered Susan's unusual proposition. Happy?

Zacharias had always been quite reasonably content, the world amusing him in fairly equal proportions to the way it annoyed him. Draco was certainly a new factor in these equations, and amused him a lot.

Zacharias supposed he was more content than usual. Also, he suspected Susan was referring to something Zacharias had caught happening in himself irregularly when Draco smiled.

It was a sort of warm trickly feeling.

Susan turned back to him, and said anxiously, "You are happy, aren't you?"

Zacharias shrugged.

The Badger Series - Chapter 3

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