He wasn't going to have any teeth left. He'd been grinding them all evening. Presently he was as clenched as he could be and staring absently into the fire in the Slytherin common room. He felt the sofa he was on dip under someone else's weight. He knew who it was without even having to turn. Only one person would be brave (foolish) enough to risk Connor's dark mood. "Evening, Draco." "Big brother." "Something on your mind?" Draco looked at his older brother. He was pinched tight with foul darkness. Draco would have to tread lightly. Connor had a long fuse, but it was a big bang. His temper could rival their father's when properly motivated. "Is it true?" "Draco, be specific. You know I hate vagueness. Is WHAT true?" "You and the mudblood." "Which... one?" Connor hissed through clenched teeth. "Granger. I overheard Snape talking to McGonagall about you rescuing her? From drowning?" Connor turned so suddenly that Draco jumped a bit. "And if it IS true?" "Connor, why would you... she's a mudblood." "So what if she is. I couldn't... I wasn't going to just stand there and listen to her drown, alright!" Several people in the common room turned and looked at the head boy and the sixth year prefect. "Get out!" Draco screeched. No one moved for a second. "Out!" Draco shouted again as he rose and stalked around the sofa he'd been seated on. Connor added his glare to his brother's, and suddenly the place was alive with Slytherins scrambling to get their books and such out of the common room and to their dorms instead. No one wanted to be around if the Malfoy brothers were going to have a row. As interesting as it might be, there was a distinct possibility of getting hit in the crossfire. Literally. Draco Malfoy was not known for keeping his wand lowered in the midst of an altercation. As soon as the room had cleared, Draco spun on Connor. "You couldn't just let her drown?! What in the hell is the matter with you, Connor?!" "Well excuse the fuck outta me for having a bloody soul here, Draco! Damn! You would have just stood there and listened to it?!" "Yes." "No you wouldn't. You aren't a killer. Not you. You talk big, but not even Granger... you couldn't." "Yes, I could." But his voice had wavered a bit. Connor was right. He sort of didn't have the stomach for killing. Not even Granger. His brother was absolutely right. It was a bit infuriating. "No... you couldn't. There's no shame in NOT destroying something." "But Father-" "Is not here. This is you and I talking, Draco. It doesn't go beyond us." Draco was confused. His brother was acting different. He was acting like the two of them had a choice here. They didn't. It was what Lucius Malfoy wanted or nothing. "Connor..." "It's ok to be confused too." He was so calm about it. Suddenly Draco was furious about that. It wasn't fair that Connor could put ice in his veins like their mother could. He had this thing where his face didn't even do involuntary ticks of reaction, no matter how shocked he was, unless he wanted it to happen. Narcissa Malfoy was the same way. The woman could be boiling inside, but that serene mask of hers was firmly in place on the outside. It wasn't fair. Draco was like Lucius. His face often betrayed him. Especially his eyes. "Well, maybe I'll just write Father and tell him all about how the head boy has been prancing about and rescuing bushy-headed Gryff prefect mudbloods." "You do that." Connor replied smoothly. "And I'll just counter that you're so obsessed with Ginny Weasley that you've taken to lurking outside her classes for a glimpse of her." "That's not true!" "Yes, I know that... and YOU know that..." Connor leaned back on the sofa and put his hands behind his head while stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles. "But... who will Father believe?" "You evil bastard." "Now, now, Draco, play nicely." "You really suck, did you know? I can't believe you'd lie like that... to Father." "Oh well, if that isn't the cauldron calling the kettle black." "What?" "Oh like you've never lied to Father before. Saint Draco. We should set up a shrine for you then? Hand out little prayer cloths with drops of your holy blood on it?" "Sod off." "Listen, you little twat, you can't think that you can threaten me with Father." "But Granger? Why Granger?" "I don't know. I think I had an attack of conscience I suppose." "You don't think it's catching, do you?" "What?" "Your attack of conscience." Connor chuckled. "I'm serious. I've a reputation to uphold here." "Yes. Self-important git." "You know, I don't think I like you right now." That makes two of us, Connor was thinking. He didn't quite know what to do with himself since pulling Hermione Granger from the watery hole she'd fallen into. The confusion going on inside him was compounded by the fact that she had kissed him for his heroic efforts, yes just on the cheek, but he was startled by the fact that he was just dying for her to do it again. That really wasn't good. He was not NOT... big huge *NOT* supposed to fall for a mudblood. Especially not Granger. Not just because of the way Draco felt about her, but because his father disliked her so strongly as well because she was a) a mudblood and b) one of Potter's best friends. Lucius Malfoy would not put up with that sort of thing. His brother had a better chance of getting their father to accept him falling for Ginny Weasley... and Lucius Malfoy always had plenty of evil things to say about the Weasleys. Especially the youngest and most feminine of them. "Look, Draco, I don't mean to lash out at you. But don't bait me and not expect me to snap, ok? I know you don't like Granger because she's more clever than you, but all I did was yank her out of a muddy water-filled hole, ok? It's not like I dropped to my knees before her and professed my undying love. Just forget about it." "Are you likely to?" "Forget about it? I'm trying, but certain gits keep harping on it." "First... don't call me a git. Second... no, I meant are you likely to drop before the mudblood and make a declaration?" "Use your brain." "Well, you have been acting oddly." "Well, the day you end up snogging Ginny Weasley is the day I profess my love Mudblood Granger in front of the entire school." "You know I'm tempted to steal a kiss from the little weasel just to see you humiliate yourself like that." "No stealing. She has to kiss you of her own free will." "Well, that's rather unlikely, isn't it?" Draco said as he flopped back on the sofa next to his brother. "It wouldn't be if you'd be a bit more gentlemanly towards her. You're not a bad looking bloke if you'd quit slicking your hair down to your head." "Oh and suppose I should have hair like yours then? Mother's right. You need a trim." "Bugger off about my hair. I like my hair as it is." "It hangs down in your face half the time." "We aren't talking about my hair, git. We're talking about you being nicer to Ginny-weasel, so maybe you can get your snog on." "No one said I wanted to." But Draco's pale cheeks had flooded with pink color. Connor smirked and raised one eyebrow. "Stop it or I really will tell Father that you fancy Granger." "And I'll just have to tell him that you fancy Potter." Draco turned gray. Connor almost laughed. "You... wouldn't." Draco rasped. You'd think it was a fate worse than death. Connor placed a blank look on his face. "Wouldn't I?" "Connor..." Draco stood. His hands were fisted at his sides. "It would be so easy. I mean, you talk about Harry Potter enough. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you DID fancy the bespectacled little goody- goody. It would certainly be easy to turn your bitching into something more in Father's eyes. Can't you just see the disapproval glittering in his steely gray ocular orbs?" "You... you..." Draco was snarling. He was so angry at his brother he was trembling. "You threaten me... I threaten you. Isn't that how this little game of yours works, Draco? Tell me... because I'm not too certain about jealousy as a sport." "Jealous? Me?" "It's all you've ever been. You think this is easy for me? Ever? You think Father puts pressure on YOU? Try being the eldest son some day." "Maybe I will." "Is that a threat?" Connor said in a deadly tone as he rose slowly and loomed over Draco. He was only two inches taller, but it was enough. The two of them just stood staring for several minutes. Fists clenched. Eyes glittering with anger. Jaws ticking. Then the door to the common room opened slowly. Connor saw Blaise Zabini sneaking someone in out of the corner of his eye. He whirled around. "Zabini, I think you had better take Abbott right on back to Hufflepuff as it is after hours, don't you?" Hannah Abbott let out a twittering giggle. Blaise scowled at Connor. "Now." Connor said with a harsh glare. "Or better yet... I will. You go on up to the boys dorm." Blaise opened his mouth to protest. "Don't." Blaise shut his mouth. Connor stalked across the room and grabbed Abbot roughly by the arm. She yelped as her springy blonde curls bounced all around her face. Connor looked at Draco. "This isn't over." Draco's lip curled back at him. It would have been funny the way his upper lip had seemed to ripple and spasm... if Connor hadn't know exactly what it meant. That lip was a sure sign the younger brother had completely lost his temper. Draco was quite beyond words now, and when Draco got that way, he always did something stupid. Connor was just hoping his brother calmed down. The blonde hadn't acted rashly in a while. So that meant one of two things. He'd grown up and learned a bit of reserve... unlikely. Or he was due for one of his flighty tantrums... which was closer to what Connor was thinking. He just hoped whatever action Draco took against him for this little tiff of theirs wasn't too harsh. But Connor had to wonder as he dragged the giggling Hannah Abbott back to Hufflepuff... why was he letting himself get into a fight with his brother about Hermione Granger anyway? What did it mean? And why on earth was he telling Draco to be nicer to a Weasley? It just didn't make sense. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he explain any of this? He was really good at explaining things normally. *~*~*
				When Harry Met Buffy