M
idnight at Malfoy MansionBy: The Minions
Authors note: I know this sentence is really cliché and I can't believe I'm saying this but, we just got back from trick-or-treating (yes, we're twelve and we trick-or-treat) and we're have a lot of Tootsie rolls, and our adrenaline is pumping from that Haunted House. Whoo. We loopy.
Harry Potter dug into his peas. His eyes roved over to his whipped potatoes. He loved potatoes—so he was saving those for last. He and Hermione and Ron were chattering excitedly. Halloween was a week away, and they were looking forward to Hogsmeade. But, Professor Dumbledore announced that this year, students could go home for Halloween or stay.
Of course, they were staying.
"Are you staying?" asked Hermione, seeing the list being passed around the dinner table.
"Yeah, I'm staying," said Ron, working clockwise around his plate.
"Hello chickens," came an obnoxious and scathing voice. Only one person in the world could muster than thick a voice. Draco Malfoy stood over Harry and his friends, and (which was highly unusual) he wasn't flanked by his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. He was all alone.
Ron leapt from his seat. "What do you want?"
"Down Weasel."
"What do you want?" repeated Hermione, looking up from 101 Daily Habits of Highly Successful Teen Witches.
"Are you staying?" he asked, sitting down. He had a nasty look on his face. Harry didn't like it.
"Why? And if you must know, yes," said Ron, who's long nose was turned up at Malfoy with the thorough abhorrence.
"I'm not."
"And what do we care?" snapped Hermione form behind her book.
"A lot."
"What?" asked Harry. "Quit playing around."
"Well. As I said, I'm not staying. And it seems my parents are gone this week."
"What are you going to throw us a party?" asked Ron dryly.
"No. But I am invited you all over."
"What?" Ron choked on his peas. Harry thumped his over the back.
Malfoy made a grimace-like grin.
"I'm also making you a wager."
"What?"
"As I mentioned, my parents are gone. And if you can stay in my manor one night," he said, holding up one finger to indicate one. "I will generously give you some –er—gold from my personal allowance—"
"You get allowance? For what?" interjected Ron.
"For being lovable me. You don't expect me to chip a nail doing –ick—housework? Now, if you will listen, I'll tell you the amount. One hundred Galleons," he added earnestly.
Ron choked on his peas…again. "What?" he croaked. "You're lying!"
"I'm not." He dumped a bag of gold on the table.
Ron's mouth twitched. He loved money. From his childhood lack of it.
"And what's in it for you?"
"One hundred Galleons."
"Hey!" said Harry. "What if we do stay?"
"You won't," he said, his eyes glittering.
"And why not?" asked Hermione sharply, who had put down her book.
"Because… uh… we're sleeping on the…. uh.. FOURTH FLOOR!" he blurted.
"So?"
"The fourth floor is haunted."
"So?" said Harry, who was working on a delicious roast. His potatoes were next. "We've handled ghosts." He said indicating to all the Hogwarts ghosts—The Fat Friar, the Hufflepuff ghost, the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin ghost, The mysterious Gray Lady of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor's Nearly-Headless (but not quite) Nick and Peeves, who generally peeved everyone.
"Oh, but not these. We have very bad poltergeists…an evil ghoul…spirits of evil warlords and Dark Wizards. Bad ghosts. Not these pansies." He raised an eyebrow. "You're in their league Potter. But I have a perfect place…"
"So how scary is it?" asked Hermione, obviously not impressed.
"I'm not allowed up there."
"Then why are we doing it?" Ron asked. "We all know you're father." And Hermione and harry nodded to this… they knew all-to-well.
"Yes, well, so what? Breaking the capital crime in our house…the capital punishment," he added, relishing the thought of Harry being caught in his house.
"But my parents aren't returning till Sunday. And I have a great room."
"So… all of us and you?"
"Precisely. And… Longbottom…"
"Okay, and we'll split it four ways." Hermione nodded. "Sounds easy."
"We'll see it one week. Oh, and Potter? Those potatoes look mighty tasty." He stuck a long, pale finger in the potatoes and licked his finger.
*~*
As soon as October 30th rolled around, Harry and Ron had packed their bags full of borrowed tricks from George and Fred ("This one makes your tongue turn purple, we swear!")
Neville had agreed, on one condition: none of the ghosts bother him. They didn't tell Neville how haunted it was. If it was haunted at all.
A huge limo rolled around, and they all stepped in. Malfoy, smirking.
"Like my little toy?" Ron was looking fascinated. Harry was nearly drooling. It was filled with a radio, a drink bar and loads of other things most cars didn't have.
"As much as I hate to admit it, YES!"
Malfoy gave a general smile.
Rain was falling down. It pelted against the tinted windows.
"Here we are. Jeffery, get their bags." A servant and the chauffeur took their things. Malfoy Manor was well…huge. A very scary looking castle. The lightning flashed and the thunder clapped. Neville looked frightened.
The door was opened for them. They stepped inside… and it was beautiful. Stained glass windows above the huge oak door. Twin maroon carpeted stairs ran up either side of a huge door in the middle. It let to the dining hall. A fountain was in the middle and a red rug covered the polished floors. Fine marble adorned the stair rails. To Harry's left, were four doors, to his right, six.
They stood in silent amazement. Until Neville blurted, "It's HUGE!"
Hermione looked as though she'd rather be cleaning toilets.
Ron stuttered. They had nothing on him now. Nothing.
"Get your bags. We have to go upstairs to my room," he said, raising his eyebrows.
They understood at once. They grabbed their parcels.
A young blonde woman stepped out. She looked about twenty. She was very pretty.
"Master?" she said. She had a heavy French accent. "Iz zis ze Potter boy you deed not—"
"Shut it Chloe!" snapped Malfoy, who looked at Harry in amazement. "You're dismissed."
"No master! You know I'm a how do you say. Squib! I cannot find anuzzer line of werk!"
"So? Does this look like I care?" He put on a hard face.
The girl ran from the room, in tears.
Hermione spoke first. "MALFOY! How could you?"
"Oh, her? She'll be back. Father will let her in. She always put on that Squib, 'Lucius, master, master pleaze! I cannot find anuzzer line of werk!'" he mocked.
Hermione sighed.
"Um…" said Harry. "Where to?"
"You'll see," he said, grinning malevolently.
They approached a room on a very tall floor. Very tall, which Neville didn't like ("My nose bleeds this high!")
The door swung open. It revealed a small room, empty, except for about six armchairs, a fireplace, (No closet, thought Harry, relieved) and a small door.
"What's through there?" asked Ron.
"Bathroom."
"Oh."
They plopped down.
"So what first?"
"Well, I figured, we listen to a little Muggle music—"
"You like Muggle music?"
"Yes," snapped Malfoy, defensively.
"Do you have CD's?" asked Neville.
"'Course."
"Can we look at them?"
A bag in the corner opened. A CD player floated to Malfoy's hand, accompanied by what looked like a small, black leather book.
"Here."
They opened the book. Inside were several CD's.
"Does you father know about this?" asked Ron.
"No," squirmed Draco. "He hates Muggle devices. So do I, but I like music."
"You like Eminem?"
"Marilyn Manson?!"
"Limp Bizkit?"
"You have…taste…anything that won't rupture our minds?"
"Yes. I have a CD called "Greatest House Party". No rap, except for a little DMX."
"Let's put it in."
They eagerly awaited the first song. No one except Hermione had heard Muggle music.
"Who let the dogs out?
Woof, woof, woof, woof,
Who let the dogs out?
Woof, woof, woof, woof
Well the party was nice,
The party was jumping—" The CD stopped suddenly.
"Does anyone in here know how to line dance?"
They shook their heads.
"Darn." The CD started again.
They listened.
"Who let the dogs out,
Woof, woof, woof, woof—"
"Um…" Malfoy stopped the CD. "I have to go downstairs. I'll be right back."
"Malfoy?" asked Neville, as Malfoy disappeared from the room.
"What'll we do now?" asked Hermione, nervously.
"Yeah…what if a ghost shows up?" shivered Neville.
"Well… what if a spider shows up?" asked Ron, shaking as well.
"Let's read."
"No. We'll turn the CD back on."
A song blared throughout the silence like a knife.
"Ya'll gonna make me make lose my mind,
Up in here, up in here
Ya'll gonna make me go all out…"
Scared, they all huddled up.
Then Neville spoke. "Listen."
They stopped the CD.
"I heard something…out in the hall." Boom. A footstep. Boom. Another.
Even Hermione looked scared now.
Knock. Someone was knocking at the door. Timidly, Harry opened the door.
A figure stood there outlined in black!
"ARRRRRRUGH!" screamed Neville, Harry, Hermione and Ron.
"ARRRRRRUGH!" screamed the figure. Malfoy!
"Whew. We thought you were a ghost."
"I'm not."
"I'm glad."
"Heads up, morons, I've got rations." He dumped food on the floor. Apples, bags of chips, a few little cakes, some soda, and various candies.
"Whoa, did you rob a candy store?"
"No…it's my secret stash."
Harry picked up a bag of chips, and crunched one. He was so hungry! So he sat down by the others in a circle.
"I'm going to tell you about…" Malfoy spun around and brought a flashlight up to his face, casting a spooky glow. "The Borley Rectory!"
Neville squeaked.
"The Most Haunted Place on Earth!" he said with a dramatic flourish.
He proceeded to tell them about the Most Haunted Places on Earth. In gory detail. Neville was gripping his knees, his knuckles white.
"And now it's your turn," he finished. He gave the flashlight to Harry. And they continued to tell ghost stories, each more frightening… until Neville's.
"Mine is called… the Evil Potions Professor!"
They all began to laugh. Neville told about an encounter.
"…Our potions were simmering… and the green potion received its master a fifteen point deduction!" He bowed. "The end."
Malfoy was bursting with derisive laughter near the end.
"So…" He climbed into a chair and crossed his legs. "I'm off to take a shower."
"Skipping your Olympic sized pool bath?"
"For tonight only." He walked through the door, and closed it with a slight click behind him.
After a moment Harry and Ron began to fiddle with Malfoy's CD player. Hermione was back to the books, and Neville was worrying about anything he could think of.
"Look Harry, it's got a tape recorder!" He lifted the speaker and spoke into it, "Draco…Draco…" he said in a spooky voice. He played it back.
"Hey! It's got a pitch control. They adjusted it.
"That's cool."
"You know," said Neville. "We could scare Malfoy in the bathroom."
"How?"
"Just walk in… and walk around. Play the tape."
Harry lifted the CD player. "I think that'll do just nicely."
*~*
"Music make the people, come together, yeah!" Malfoy sang. He hurried with his shower. Those goons might do some damage, unsupervised.
"Draaaaaaco…" said a voice.
"Who's there?"
"Draaaaaaco…" it repeated.
"Who's there I say!"
"Draaaaaaco…"
Malfoy stuck his head out.
"AHHHHHHH!" He was face to face with Harry Potter!
"AHHHHHHH!" Harry shielded his eyes and ran.
Malfoy stepped from the shower. Very angry.
Harry ran back to the room, laughing hard.
He explained what happened to his friends. Just then, Malfoy stepped from the shower. Wearing a black robe, with sliver letters saying "D. Malfoy". His silver blonde hair sticking in wild wet clumps.
"I hate you all," he said, feverishly. They howled with laughter.
"Truth or dare?"
"Truth." Malfoy was now wearing green pajamas and rubbing his head vigorously with a black towel.
"Is it true you like Hermione?"
"No! I like Pansy though."
"You're blushing."
"Am not!"
They all howled with laughter.
"You know, nothing has happened yet," said Hermione, looking at Malfoy, who was filing his fingernails.
"I know but…listen!"
WHUMP! A footstep! Harry grabbed his Invisibility Cloak, and motioned for Neville and Ron and Hermione to join him. They all clamored under.
The door swung open. A figure stood. Slender, blonde, looking exactly like Malfoy's older double.
Lucius Malfoy.
"What are you doing?!" he roared.
"Father! Harry Potter and…" He spun on his heel. They were gone—or hidden. "They were here!"
Lucius grabbed Draco by the scruff of the neck.
Ron laughed. "C'mon! Let's go see! There is nothing better than watching your worst enemy getting in trouble!"
"No, let's stay here for the night. We can get a ride back to Hogwarts tomorrow," said Harry.
"All right," said Hermione, skeptically.
Silence.
"Did you see Draco's face?" hooted Neville.
"Wonder what ever became of him?" asked Ron, in saintly voice.
They all howled with laughter.
"This was just one year. We'll do this again. Wait until next year," said Ron, grinning, in a way that resembled Draco Malfoy.
FIN.