Draco Malfoy groaned loudly while his dorm mates clattered around him to get ready for the first day of the new, eighth, school year. Blessed were the heavens that sent Salazar Slytherin the brilliant idea to dig the dwellings for himself and his disciples under the lake. He didn't think he could live through even a single ray of sunshine entering a hypothetical window in his current state. On second thoughts maybe it wasn't such a brilliant idea to get himself utterly sloshed on the first night they came back to Hogwarts. But then again, on third thoughts he very much doubted anyone in the wretched school would give him the time of the day, not even his Slytherin classmates, so what was the point of trying. Well, he sighed as he tried to get up - it was not like he could blame any of them. Hardly anyone wanted to associate with someone who fell from grace with both sides of the recently ended war.
"Get up, Malfoy – scowled Blaise Zabini from the other end of the room. – I don't plan to take shit from either the teachers or the student body on the first day here just because you can't hold your liquor and can't even manage to be on time for classes."
He scowled in return. Well, that brought low to new levels. Any other time no one would hesitate to remind him ad nauseam how the mighty have fallen – really, from a spoiled little brat he somehow managed to turn into the whole Wizarding world's least favorite person in less than two years. Way to be dramatic and overestimate his own pathetic worth, he frowned at himself. He knew, intellectually at least, it could be much worse – for both him and his family, if not for the semblance of a heart Narcissa Malfoy had shown minutes before the final battle between Potty and the Dark Lord. Why it was that the Ministry wanted him to return to school this year and feign a turnabout, was beyond him. He would much rather waste away at home. It wasn't as if he needed the education for something – who would care how much NEWTs he had gotten. He was the bloody 16-year old Death Eater who led a bunch of blood-thirsty lunatics into a school in order to find a way to kill the Headmaster of said school who had swore to protect every single person in the castle… including himself.
"Well, now that you've managed to get out of bed, hurry up a bit and do try to look like you're not hungover", intonated Zabini again and managed to sound even less contemptuous than before "We've got to figure out how to crawl back onto the social ladder in this whole brave new world and, sadly, that doesn't even apply only to you."
With that last word he got out and slammed the door.
This single conversation set the overall tone of his days for the next fortnight or so – he kept his head down and tried very hard to keep the attention away from himself. Which, considering the fact that everybody needed the time to heal and therefore didn't want to look at him, wasn't even that hard – it was as if he was a big, black ugly thorn in their side. The relative bliss ended one Friday night towards the end of September when Blaise came to him in the common room.
"Don't go to bed yet, Malfoy" he said, his face giving away nothing "I want to talk to you about something personal. Wait till everyone falls asleep and I'll come back here" With that he headed toward the dorms they shared.
He merely nodded. Time seemed to pass very slowly – or maybe his book wasn't very interesting. It wasn't that he was very curious about what Blaise wanted. They have never been very close and Blaise had always been competitive towards any male in Slytherin that wasn't Crabbe or Goyle, him especially. Well, just Goyle now anyway. In actuality, these days he treated him fairly well for someone who deserved so much loathing. Finally, at half past one, the last person exited the common room, accompanied by a few loud yawns. Draco stared transfixed at the fireplace. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes met the chocolate ones of Zabini. He sat casually in the armchair next to his and started speaking.
"Well, I'll be honest with you since there is something I want you to do. Not for me, I don't assume you would have become particularly servicing after the Dark Lord forced your whole family to play his personal butlers for a year or so" Draco narrowed his eyes at this "But this is something that will benefit me and ultimately I think it may benefit you as well. See, the thing is that if we want to keep our head above the water maybe we'll have to be somewhat sincere in our efforts to convince everyone that we're not all some inbred imbeciles spouting the blood purist rubbish our parents fed us if we don't want to scrub floors after the NEWTs for the next twenty years."
Draco laughed bitterly at this. "As if, Zabini. Trust me when I say I don't want to see anyone's blood spilling for the rest of my life – muddy, traitor's or any other kind. But it is hardly as if I've suddenly become a cherub. And besides, I don't think any amount of boot licking will help with our new status of social scum. I consider it a small mercy that Saint Potty and Weasel aren't here to rub my nose in the metaphorical shit every day."
Zabini shrugged non-comitally at this "I get what you mean – trust me when I say it goes against every grain. But in this instance I'm not talking about boot licking – or not in the traditional way. Maybe if you're kinky enough you might even enjoy it, with a certain lady-friend." His eyes sparkled merrily at this, as if envisioning what other kinky activities the said lady-friend might suggest and participate in. He was uncharacteristically open tonight. "Thing is, I've decided to try an untraditional approach to my goal and totally fuck expectations and social pressure this year. It is as closest as we ever got to normal and I for one am perfectly normal hormonal teenager… and, well you get my point. I've actually already set my sights on someone and I've progressed fairly well in the past few weeks. I've decided that giving in into past temptations might benefit me for once. Besides, I'm not certain how long the witch will stay single, what with the trail of faithful male puppy dogs she leaves in her wake." This garnered Draco's attention – it was well known fact that half the female population panted after Zabini's good looks. His somewhat callous and aloof behavior towards women didn't hurt either. It was quite the news that he might be the one chasing after someone for once.
"The thing is I don't want have to have a confrontation with her body guards anytime soon. The lady has quite a few temperamental brothers. And a somewhat rash noble ex-boyfriend who will not hesitate to save her from the likes of me. He can't help it, this whole saving thing, you see." He grinned, but not particularly maliciously. Well, this just kept getting better and better. Apparently, Zabini had established some sort of give and take in the previous weeks with one Ginevra Weasley.
"I thought you would never sully yourself with a blood traitor like her, no matter what she looked like" Draco narrowed his eyes slightly. "Whatever changed your mind?"
"First of all, losing a war has changed my mind. Last year under the carrows changed my mind – I'm not the most compassionate person out there, but I'm not cut out for torturing others either. And finally, getting to do something I want to instead of something I'm supposed to for a change definitely changed my mind."
"Why, I had no idea you were one to be whipped so easily" grinned Draco.
"To tell you the truth – mighty Salazar's snake – she's rubbing off on me. Damn open Gryffindors – it's entirely too tempting to feed off their emotions like some lustful vampire on a maiden's blood. " Blaise laughed at his own not very original joke. "And speaking of Gryffindors, this is where you come in, my friend." That certainly didn't bode with Draco well. It was most untypical for Zabini to call him his friend. "She's quite amenable towards my intentions – could you fucking believe it - but doesn't want to deal with the fallout that will inevitably happen if Potter and Weasley learn about this. And they probably will. Weasley is certainly one to flip out" They both laughed in a sense of camaraderie at that. Old hates, thought Draco, die hard like old loves. Not that he wanted anything to do with that – or these two – anymore. In a sense, he was even happy if not somewhat bitter with his new status of social scum of the pond. He didn't have to antagonize them anymore now that it was established after the war who was on top of the new hierarchy. It certainly did take pressure off of his shoulders and he now had extra time to brood on his own shortcomings and inadequacies. Well, maybe later. For now he had to find out what Zabini had in mind
"What do I have to do with Gryffindor lot?" he asked evasively.
"You see my Gryffindor lioness – I certainly must have rubbed off on her as well – thinks that if the road of inter-house relationships is already paved we won't receive so much unwanted attention should we ever decide to make our arrangement a little more permanent and a little less secretive."
"Do you mean to tell me that the Weaslette actually has that in her?"
"Well, yeah, if you believe it. And this is where a certain not-so-bushy-anymore Gryffindor friend of hers enters the picture. Ginevra was very specific that plans for wooing her stubborn friend should be considered only if the other party is interested in her, genuinely interested, that is – she's not that self-serving that she would risk the breaking of her friend's heart just so we can have it easy on us. From what I gather the King has already done a fairly good job on that"
"Is that why she acts like a bitter shrew these days?" asked Draco curiously, genuinely startled that his interest seemed earnest and not of the malicious variety. It was true – every time his glance rested on Granger (which he tried very hard to do as little as possible) she was scowling. She kept reading her books and avoiding the attention of one or two of the Ravenclaw guys - Boot, Goldstein, whatever their names were – who seemed smitten with her intellect, war heroine status, improved looks (not that she had much to compensate for, if he wanted to be fair… and he really, really didn't want to).
"Well, Ginny tells me he was quite a train wreck after his brother's death. Their whole family. Granger, the compassionate person that she is, offered him quite the comfort for the whole duration of the summer, one that no one prone to female charms at all would decline. In the end, when it was time to decide whether to return for the final year or not, our favorite Weasel told her that maybe they shouldn't wait for NEWTs to think about their future together, since he was fairly certain she was like another sister to him. Talk about having your both feet in your mouth. "
"What a complete and utter moron. If there ever were a contest between him and his brothers "the stupidest one of the lot" should definitely be the title he deserves." agreed and elaborated Draco. "I mean, Granger is certainly the best he could ever do for himself, what with him having more freckles than brain cells."
"And this is exactly where you enter the picture. If you so readily appreciate the fact that she's out of Weasel's league, maybe you should be the one to offer her solace" slyly suggested Blaise, never once breaking eye contact.
Draco's eyes widened imperceptibly. Well, this was certainly unexpected turn of the conversation. "If you think I want to muddy the water in my ambiguous relationship with these three, you're very much mistaken. I have no desire whatsoever to seduce the virtuous bookworm just to try and one up those two imbeciles. I'm through with pathetic schoolyard rivalries. It's not like I want to try and make father proud and gain his approval by competing with these two. Potty and Granger, that is."
"But that's the beauty of it, my friend. You don't have to do it for anyone's gain but yours. That would certainly convince the population that you've changed your views on Muggle-borns."
"No one's gain but mine, huh?" snorted Draco. "What about you and your lioness?"
"Well, yeah, maybe mine too." shrugged Zabini once more. "But I will say it again, Ginny is quite firm that she wouldn't risk another heartbreak on Granger's behalf. So I have kind of counted my owls, before suggesting this to you."
"Yeah, very clever then, Zabini. I'm certainly the last person she would ever want to pursue her. For fuck's sake, Greyback and his snatchers captured her and those two idiots and brought her to my home to be fucking tortured by Bellatrix. Who, by the way, decided it would be a good time to practice her penmanship with a cursed blade on her skin. I was there and watched the whole fucking time without any clue what to do to make her stop. How does that not spell "emotional distress" in your book?" he barely could stop himself in the end to take a deep breath. The disgusting things they were forced to watch, do and occasionally endure the last year under the Carrows had nothing on the disgusting things he was forced to watch, endure and occasionally do the last two years at his home.
Blaise took note of his distress and stayed silent for a minute, pretending to contemplate what to say next. In reality, he just wanted to give Draco the time to compose himself. It wouldn't do for his cause to take advantage of his vulnerability and he was sure Malfoy definitely wouldn't like what he had to say next.
"You just proved to me that I was right with my suggestion. Two years ago Draco Malfoy wouldn't have cared for the emotional well-being of a Mudblood" said Blaise quietly and noted with satisfaction that the other boy flinched at the vile word. "Besides, you can't fool me, dude, I'm not Goyle or Crabbe with their astounding lack of observational skills and that is precisely the reason we haven't been friends for all these years. I see right through you – you could burn a hole through her head in the rare times your control slips and you just stare at her. And when you're not, you're intensely aware of her position and what she's doing just so you can avoid at all costs the aforementioned staring. Have been aware - as a matter of fact, for years." Oh, now his jaw visibly clenched. Hmm, maybe Blaise had indeed hit bull's eye with this pairing. "I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out you've had a crush on her for years but didn't know what else to do except pull her bushy pigtails."
"Have you gone insane?" Draco spat. Really, the nerve of him. "What is that damn Gryffindor of yours feeding you – delusion inducing potion?"
"But I don't hear any denial from you. And I don't need to – confess yourself or don't, it's fine byme. I didn't want to have this conversation just to make it a point to perform a vivisection of your emotions. But consider this – it is a chance for you to try and make amends and this is the person who probably deserves it the most. And if you don't want to think about it, look at the bright side. She's so kind-hearted that she can't bring herself to hate Weasel for his lack of sensitivity, so she's instead decided to despise every male in the Hogwarts vicinity that shows her some kind of appreciation. The girl is a bloody mess. You would be such a great target for her to practice her contempt, that she'll eventually heal herself and get over her feminist phase." He actually had the audacity to laugh at this.
"This is probably the most twisted logic I've ever heard, right after the Muggle descent of a certain blood purist maniac we all we knew not so long ago. But if I considered suicide out of boredom, maybe I would indeed contemplate your suggestion somewhere in the near future." Well, Blaise thought, that would be the most willing to compromise he was ever going to get from Malfoy. Even with the dead pan sarcasm. Time for the last nail in the coffin.
"Well, do think about it, mate, it really is a shame there are not more eligible bachelors in Slytherin house, except for me that is. Goyle is both uglier and dumber than Weasley so that's hardly ever going to be an option. And there is the slight problem with Nott he despises everybody equally – both pure-bloods and Muggle-borns. Do you think I should consider him instead? He's good-looking in a bookish sort of way – maybe that should appeal to our princess. And he's smart, devilishly so and would make for a fine study partner." He inwardly laughed at the sickened expression on Draco's face and he knew he had him. "I'm only slightly troubled by the fact that he's even more contemptuous and rude towards women, what with his mother dying so early and having instead his Death eater father raising him."
"Really, Zabini, as opposed to the brilliant example you must have been given by some of the many stepfathers your mother seduced and then probably poisoned." Draco spat and stood up. "I should go to bed. It's terribly late." With that he spun and darted to the dormitories.
Blaise lingered behind, contemplating the conversation and stared unseeingly at the flames. Then he laughed quietly to himself. "Low blow, Malfoy, wouldn't bring my lovely mother into this, if you weren't pissed off beyond reason. Well, this is definitely an answer to my troubles." With that and a satisfied grin, he went to bed. His last thought before he went to sleep was that it was pathetic really. Maybe he was indeed whipped, but not any more than the blond idiot in the other corner of the room. He would have to make quite a lot of amends if he ever wanted to get into the good graces of a certain Gryffindor shrew.
A/N: Hey, guys. I'm not really into writing since English is not my mother language. I'm a having a hard time not using the same stupid words over and over again and I'm not really sure about my grammar, but oh well. Taming of the Shrew is one of my favorite Shakespeare plays and I figured some time ago that using the plot for a Dramione fanfiction could turn out pretty funny. Unfortunately, no one's written it yet, so here goes nothing..
Hope you enjoy this, I'm not sure how regularly I'll update but I expect to finish it in a month or two. It won't be a lengthy story (25 - 30+ words) and it is kind of easier when someone's already thought out the story for you.