Part II

Draco Malfoy was bitter. He was bitter as... the bitterest of bitter things. Very, very bitter. First of all, the prank war had been called off, barring his ability to randomly hex people between classes... particularly Potter. For a few weeks, Draco had been in the thick of things, throwing hexes and curses and gloating for days over Potter's sudden need to shout out in class, "I'm a little teapot!" There were now *groan* consequences for his actions. If that weren't enough to cause a frown on his ferret-y little face, the perpetrator of the greatest prank in Hogwarts history, including even the drop-out pair of Weasley twins, was unknown. Any glory Draco may have previously held was now masked by glorious and whispered speculation.

The usual suspects were Potty and the Weasel, Peeves, and even a Weasley twin recurrence. Draco had even heard a first year whispering his theory about Dumbledore. Of course, Draco was forced to hex the child with three day hiccups. Dumbledore! Pshaw! But no one suspected Draco Malfoy, and that hurt more than a little.

"Coulda done it," he muttered for the forth time in fifteen minutes. "I'm bad and I'm clever. No... I'm evil and I'm brilliant. Coulda been me."

Crabbe and Goyle stared at Draco stupidly. Well, let's be honest... everything they do, they do stupidly. I'll just save us a lot of time and trouble and not put that in anymore. The two had learned long ago to offer nothing or risk a hissy fit. Draco turned on them suddenly, a mad gleam in his pale eyes.

"I'm a Slytherin. I'm the pranking king! I just have to... um... reestablish my reign..." He flounced from the room.

Crabbe scratched his head. "It's going to rain?"

"Dunno," Goyle blinked. "We're inside. Doesn't matter."

"Why'd he tell us about the rain, then?"

"Are we going outside?"

The two were climbing out of the Common Room door just as Draco reappeared. He hauled them back in by stupefying and levitating them.

"Listen," he commanded, as he sat on Goyle's chest. "I have a plan. Where is the only place no one has been able to prank?" The other two boys were silent - not because they had no answer, true as that may be, but because you can't talk when you are stupefied. "That's right, the Common Rooms. We're going to get them on their own ground." Draco giggled maniacally, and Goyle tried to breathe. Crabbe was taking a nap.

***
Getting the password was easy enough. Draco caught Dennis Creevey in a deserted corridor. "Tell me where your Common Room is or I'll have Goyle practice Quidditch with your liver."

"A liver's no good for Quidditch. It just kinda splats..."

"Tell me!"

"No."

"Your stupid Gryffindor courage is wasted on me. I'll figure it out. I already know your password is Doxie Venom."

"No, it isn't! It's Weasley is our King."

Draco's eyes gleamed crazily as he muttered, "My mistake. Run along."

Dennis disappeared like he had a troll on his tail. Which he did, because Crabbe chased him a few feet.

"Now for the fun."