A Change In Perspective

Umm what....

"I have an idea."

One head lifted and turned in his direction. The other four students did not acknowledge this contribution in any way, continuing their discussion as it rapidly turned into a full fledged argument. The group of friends had gathered at the Zabini household after learning they were to receive the Dark Mark as their primary Christmas gift this year. After expressing the proper amount of enthusiasm, they gathered to "celebrate"… and suss out if anyone was actually happy about the situation. Two bottles of Fire Whiskey later, they decided befriending Harry Potter was the only way to ensure absolution from their holiday festivities. The problem was, how to you get a boy that has been programmed to curse your existence to suddenly decide to offer help? "I have an idea," he repeated louder.

Draco Malfoy sighed, pausing in his belittlement of his friends' intelligence to send an inquiring look over his shoulder. "Yes, Vincent?"

Vincent Crabbe stood up straight, happy to be the recipient of Draco's attention. "I have an idea."

"Yes," Draco drawled, "we have established that. What we have failed to discuss, however, is WHAT your idea is."

Vince nodded. "Well, we want to get Potter to offer us his protection during the war, right?" The others nodded, Blaise Zabini looking fairly impressed that Crabbe had managed to grasp that much of the conversation. "Why don't we trick him into it?"

Greg Goyle perked up, his expression hopeful. "You mean beat him up until he agrees to help us?"

Blaise groaned, dropping his head in his hands to rub at his temples. "Greg," he began tightly, "we cannot just beat him up. Did you forget for a minute that he ran some sort of vigilante group last year? He could have one of his many hero worshippers curse us without doing more than blinking in our direction."

Pansy Parkinson scowled, glaring at her cup of Fire Whiskey as though it was personally to blame for the owl she had received from her father. "If we had operated a vigilante group under the Headmaster's nose, we would have been expelled for it." She pouted, sipping at her drink absent mindedly. "Potter gets away with everything."

"Yes, Darling," Draco purred, giving Pansy a suggestive smirk. "But that could be in part to the type of spells we would teach a group of impressionable kids. Somehow I cannot see The Golden Boy teaching Unforgivable curses, or offering instruction on precisely which muscles to clench to reduce the amount of pain." Pansy giggled tipsily in agreement, absently flipping through the book of spells at her feet.

"No, not beat him up," Vince spoke up quickly. He didn't often capture the attention of the others, and knew he needed to talk fast before he lost it again. "What is the one class we are guaranteed to have with the Gryffindor's every year?"

When it became clear he was actually waiting for a response to his seemingly rhetorical question, Draco sighed again. "Hmm… I don't know… Potions, maybe?"

Completely missing the sarcasm, Vince nodded, thumping Draco soundly on the back in his enthusiasm. "Exactly! So why don't we slip him a potion or jinx him or something and drag him to the Slytherin common room and force him to listen to us?" He looked at his friends expectantly, proud of his plan.

A shocked silence followed this. "Did you think of this all by yourself?" Blaise sounded more curious than censorious, causing Vince to smile brightly and Draco to nod approvingly. Blaise scratched his head, frowning into the distance. "How would we keep him there, though…"

Greg looked confused. "But we hate Potter. Don't we? Why do we want him to help us?"

The group looked at him incredulously. "Gregory," Pansy began in a saccharine sweet tone of voice. "We're going into our sixth year of school, right?" Greg nodded obediently, still looking rather perplexed. "You remember that man our parents work for?" Her tone was still disturbingly sweet and pleasant. "The dark man that wants to kill people and make us wear horribly unflattering robes and masks guaranteed to cause blemishes?" Greg nodded confidently; he remembered this man. "Well, in case you forgot, we don't want to serve this man."