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Taken by busybusybeta
Chapter 4 : Far Too Serious
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 3


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A/N: okay, so I just updated a few weeks ago, which I hope you all noticed. I’m really trying to stay on top of things now, because I feel horrible for letting the stories sit there for so long. I just let the weeks go by, figuring I’ll during it over the weekend, which of course I don’t. Now, without further ado: Chapter 4!

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"Okay, now we’ve made a list of all of the possibilities, and yet none of them explain how you could have gotten to this ‘parallel universe’ as we’ve termed it," Daphne said with hand gestures for quotation marks.

"No! No, the theory about the charm – that one works..."Draco began, but then faded when Daphne gave him a withering stare. Ever logical, despite belonging to a world of magic, Daphne sighed. 

"No, Malfoy. You see, even if everyone in the school *had* been hit by a memory charm, why *you*? I mean, what reason would anybody have to target you? Do you have any enemies?" She asked. Draco scoffed.

"Of course. Do you think I get along with everyone, being the son of a Death Eater?" He rolled his eyes.

"What?" Daphne blinked at him.

"Greengrass, please don’t tell me you’re oblivious. I mean, practically all of our parents are," Draco said exasperatedly, staring at the ceiling.

"No, Malfoy, they’re not. *My* parents are muggles," she whispered.

"What?!" Draco suddenly sat up in his chair to look her in the eye.

"My parents, equals, Muggles. And yours...well, they’re not exactly..." Daphne cringed and looked away.

"Oh gods. Please tell me that they’re..." he said with horrified eyes. Without looking back at him, she shook her head. "Well, then, what *are* they?"

"Well, your mum’s an artist, she’s into pottery and sculpting. And your dad, well, he works at Gringott’s, as one of the money counters."

"But the money counters make less than the goblins do!" Draco shouted. It was almost noon on Monday. Draco and Daphe had the same free period and had met up in the Slytherin common room. No one else was about, but his voice reverberated irritatingly off of the stone walls. 

"Keep your voice down. And yes, they do," Daphne shushed him.

"Does that mean we don’t have our manor?" Draco asked miserably. He already knew the answer, but insisted on torturing himself.

"Damn. No wonder you want to return to the way things were. You had a manor?" Daphne asked, impressed.

"Oh God," Draco said and smacked his head on the desk. Repeatedly.

"Keep doing that, Malfoy, and you won’t remember this alternate universe, and I won’t be able to return you to it. So stop," she admonished. He stopped.

"Anyway, even if a mass memory charm had been performed, who would have done it, and how could they have done it?" Daphne asked before he could begin wallowing in self pity.

"Professor Snape!" Draco said, head suddenly flying up.

"Why would our head of house want to get revenge on you, Malfoy?" She asked. If she didn’t think he had lost all of his marbles the day before, she certainly did now.

"I don’t know. But he’s always threatening Potter with veritaserum, what if he mass produced a memory erasure potion and ordered the elves to put it in all of the pumpkin juice?" Draco had a deeply conspiratorial air about him, and Daphne rolled her eyes at him.

"That’s stupid, and you know it," she said simply and acted as if the matter was closed.

Draco glowered at her and then rested his head on his hands so that he could frown at the table in an upset manner.

"Stop doing that, or your face might get stuck," she said after five minutes of his scowling. She wasn’t even looking at him. She was continually flipping that pages in a book, rivaling the reading speed of a certain frizzy haired Gryffindor. Then he scowled even harder at the lack of attention. This was the pits. He had never been ignored in all his life. Just then, Pansy came down from the girls’ dormitory and Draco’s eyes widened as he watched her floating gait. She walked more gracefully than he had ever seen another girl move.

"Stop holding your breath before you explode," Daphne said, again not looking up from her book. "And don’t you dare go up to her. Two encounters and one berating is enough for the rest of the week." He grumbled at her. He hadn’t been aware of her acute awareness to attention. Then again, his gaze had be rested fully upon Pansy.

"Say," he said, a thought suddenly hitting him, "What about Millicent?"

"Who?" The deep crimson redhead asked him without really listening.

"You know, Millicent Bulstrode? Where is she?" Draco asked.

"I’m sorry. I’m not aware of a Millicent Bulstrode," Daphne said tapping her chin, deep in thought.

"What? You mean she just doesn’t exist?" He asked with extreme disbelief.

"I suppose so. Well, that would disprove every single theory you have on a memory charm," she said, setting off to read another book. "A whole person cannot just vanish into thin air. Despite the fact that we live in a magical world, mind you."

"No. That’s not possible. I mean, my own father gave away Millicent’s mother at her wedding," Draco shook his head.

"Why would he do *that*?" Daphne asked with a frown between her brows.

"Because Mrs. Bultrode, or Lillian’s, father died a couple years before, and my father was the executor of his estate. He got a huge lump, mind you. And her father was the last relative she had left, so my father, being the closest relation resembling family, gave her away," Draco concluded.

"Well, in this world, your father does not associate with those people, and therefore did not give away any Lillian Bulstrode. I suppose she never became a Bulstrode, and so, no creation of any Millicent Bulstrode. Ugh," she added with a shudder, "what a frightening name. Good thing she wasn’t born if you ask me."

"Well, I didn’t," he replied testily. "And she was one of your best friends. And she was a frightening *sight.*"

The corner of Daphne’s lip twitched, but did not smile. Draco concluded that she was far to serious a person to hang around all day.

"By the way, how was your first class?" She suddenly asked.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose. I sat in the back corner, trying to find the lay of the class. Apparently, that’s my normal seat, and nobody looks in my direction," he replied glumly, remembering the morning before classes. 

He had gone to sleep before any of his dorm mates (wishing that he would wake from a horrid dream), hoping that it was still his dorm. That morning, nobody had bothered to wake him, thus solidifying the fact that he was stuck where he didn’t belong. He had awoken when the bell rang for morning classes to begin. He hurriedly jumped out of bed, dressed, and rushed to transfiguration, in which McGonnagal hadn’t even noticed his tardiness. She had already begun with the lecture and hadn’t looked up when he entered. The only seat left had *been* the corner seat.

"Good. I take it you didn’t draw any attention to yourself?" She asked again.

"None whatsoever, and you have to understand the kind of pain that gave me. I’m used to sitting all the way in front, sneering at people. I wanted to scream," Draco sighed.

"Good think you didn’t. That would have been strange. But don’t fear, you have no reputation of which to speak, so an outburst wouldn’t have damaged anything," she replied snidely.

"Don’t remind me," he moaned.

"I’m just saying," Daphne said with a wrinkle of her nose, "you don’t want to go making enemies or getting into trouble, what with the hell we’ve got to fix right now."

"We? Did you just say we?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course. I have this bloody dot on my arm, and it means that I have to do whatever it takes to get you back to the other universe," she rolled her eyes and pulled up her sleeve, as if Draco could forget. "Oh, and am I hearing thank you’s? Nope."

"Malfoys don’t *do* thank you’s, thank you very much," Draco snorted.

"I think you just did. See? You’re adapting to this world and your family’s status within it very well," she said with what could have been a leer, but Draco was getting better had reading into her facial expressions. It was just a harmless comment.

He huffed and laid his head back down an watched her flip pages in a new book that had diagrams of the solar system and the exact alignment of every star in the universe. Of course, the pictures were moving to stay aligned with the actual stars themselves.

"What is this bloody book supposed to help us with?" He finally asked irritably, feeling like the bright celestial bodies were winking at him mockingly.

"It’s supposed to help me figure out how to diagram the sky the night you say you supposedly experienced this strange switch. Now shut up, I’m taking notes. Take your own," she sniffed while waving him away as if he were a bug.

Draco glared down at the parchment before him. On it was a list of the events of the whole week leading up to and after the Quidditch match. It even had a cataloguing of what he had eaten for the whole week. He and Daphne had assessed the list from top to bottom, left to right, and still could not find a source. Draco also niftily left out the teensy fact that he had slept with a total stranger. Provided, she was a hott stranger, so his actions were justifiable. Besides, a Malfoy did not reveal how many notches were in his bedpost, he merely implied.

After a few minutes of silence, Draco groaned and crumpled up the list before throwing it in the fire.

"Now that was a stupid thing to do," Daphne commented without looking away from the astronomy text. "Now you get to write a new one."

"Shut it. And I am not rewriting that stupid list," he growled.

Without saying a word, she shrugged. Just then the bell rang. As if brought out of a trance, her eyes darted to the nearby clock and sighed before cramming her parchment into protective cases and her books into her bag.

"You had better get going," she said with a raised eyebrow when Draco made no move to pick up his things.

"Why bother. I could *not* go to class, and nobody would care," he said in a voice of long suffering.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself, because you will find no pity here. And the professor would eventually notice, take it up with Professor Snape, and then you’d land yourself a bunch of detentions. Go," she said with the air of someone brooking no disobedience.

Draco grumbled and picked up his things and watched as Daphne waved a wand over her scrolls and sent them zooming up to her dormitory.

"What?" She asked when she found him looking at her.

"Well? What’s my next class?" Draco asked as if *she* were bothering *him.*

"Advanced Potions. Come along, then," she sighed, as if bringing him around were the most tedious thing she had gotten roped into doing. When they were in the hallway, surrounded by other students walking to class, she spoke up again.

"It really is a wonder that you got into Advanced. Ever since our first day here, you’ve struggled with potions."

"Like you’ve never found a subject difficult before," he growled.

"Actually, no. I haven’t."

When he didn’t respond, Daphne stopped and looked at him, her serious face still intact.

"I’m joking, Malfoy. I actually hate Herbology. Nonsense if you ask me. What’s the point of learning how to repot bouncing bulbs or squeeze bobutuber pus?" She said, shuddering.

"Isn’t a good Herbology foundation crucial to potions?" Draco asked.

"Ah. So you *do* know something, afterall." She replied in a surprised tone, or it would have been had her face reflected her voice.

"Don’t you ever do anything but be obnoxiously sarcastic?" He asked, finally fed up.

"Yes. I breathe," she replied sarcastically, just to see how far she could push his buttons. Daphne knew she shouldn’t have. But the truth was, she wasn’t good at having friends. She’d never had one. So how was she *supposed* to act? Besides, she wasn’t entirely sure she liked having Malfoy around. He seemed incredibly needy. As his new ideas of being from another universe...they were strange to be sure. But she was glad for someone to talk to, even if it had to be *him.* Just then his back suddenly straightened and he stood erect. Daphne looked about to see what he had spied and then sighed.

"You would do better to stop behaving that way," she hissed.

"What way?" The blonde beside her asked distractedly.

"Like a lovesick puppy every time you see her." 

Draco blushed slightly. When he had seen the head of black silken hair bobbing through the students, he couldn’t help but watch it. Then a blonde head of hair, very similar to his own joined it, *very* closely, and he looked away to avoid seeing Blaise and his girlfriend kiss. It was unbearable, really. How was he supposed to stay away? It was absolute torture. Pansy was his, and no prick, even his cousin, had a right to touch her. But Blaise wasn’t his cousin. Not here anyway. He groaned inwardly, and hissed when Daphne punched him in the arm.

"Ouch! You punch like a man!" He shouted, but nobody took stock of them because they were socially retarded seventh years. That was probably the lowest classification one could be given at Hogwarts.

"Well, you obsess like a girl," she retorted. "Besides, our class is this way. I suppose that Zabini and Parkinson will *loiter* for a few more minutes and then join the rest of the class."

"You mean she’s in this class? Pansy?" Draco asked, with wide eyes. At first Daphne thought it was with excitement, but then she noticed his alarm.

"What *now,* Malfoy?"

"I won’t be able to concentrate. I’ll be miserable the whole time —" he began frantically and would have continued had Daphne not placed her hand over his mouth.

"Shut up. We sit in the back, she sits in the front, she doesn’t even have to know that we exist," she said and turned her back on him to walk into the dungeons and sit at a back desk. She pulled her cauldron out of her bag, followed by a neat rack of ingredient tubes and several bottles. 

Draco stared at the back of her head with an intense glare before moving and pulling out the stool beside her. She looked back at him with a satisfied arch of her brow and continued to assemble to potions on her desk.

‘This is going to be a *very* long period,’ he thought.

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A/N: You know the drill. Please review!



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