The tables in the Great Hall were overflowing with joyful company: the first day of school, the sorting ceremony, and the banquet that accompanies it had finally arrived, and the food was ecstatic. The elves knew the food's stories, for they listened every evening as the uneaten food chattered about their days on the tables. The elves knew, the elves listened, and the elves obliged to the food's request: Apple was always placed on the plate of the third seat down at the Slytherin table, Pudding in the middle of Ravenclaw table, Treacle Tart at the regular spot of the Boy Who Lived, and Chicken right next to him, on the plate of his best friend Ron.
Dumbledore finished his welcoming speech with a flourish as usual, and the elves chattered excitedly as they prepared to send the food up to the students. Dobby gave a final nod to the rest of the elves, together they snapped their fingers, the food disappeared, and reappeared in their rightful places.
-
Draco looked down sullenly. Dumbledore, the old fool, was taking an absurd amount of time welcoming the snot-nosed first years to Hogwarts. Finally, the blithering idiot of a headmaster finished his long-winded nonsense speech. Draco looked down and lo! His true love, the one and only object of his affections had re-entered his life with the simple snap of an elf's fingers.
"Apple!" He exclaimed. "It's been such a long summer without you..."
Apple, incapable of human speech, simply smiled at her love and willed him to hold her once more. Draco knew Apple well- knew her desires, for they mirrored his. He cupped her in his hand and placed a gentle kiss on her shiny green skin. "Should we get out of here?" He whispered. She winked seductively at him, and he beamed in response. He tucked her in his satchel and stood to exit the hall. He needed to get out fast, to the dungeons, so he could be alone with his love to do what they pleased. But his fellow Slytherins glanced furtively in his direction- why was he so excited to get down to the dungeons, and without having eaten any of his dinner? Draco took a deep breath, composing himself, and stepped slowly and deliberately out of the Great Hall. One hand rested in his satchel the entire time, stroking Apple with his thumb.
As the oak doors of the hall shut with a mighty bang, he leaped forward and began sprinting down the corridor towards the dungeons, and within, his beckoning four-poster bed. He gripped Apple tightly as they neared the dungeons... But Draco halted. He had forgotten to ask a Prefect for the password. "Damn!" He muttered. Apple frowned, seemingly asking him what was the matter. Draco looked around frantically, for he could not contain his excitement much longer- he needed to be with his love immediately.
A cupboard door caught his eye, and he looked down at Apple. "Well? How about it? You up for an adventure?" She nodded, and kissed her with more passion than he had in a long time. With only eyes for her and her green beauty, he fumbled for the doorknob and stumbled into the small closet... And suddenly, Draco was face-to-face with none other than Ronald Weasley. "Weasel," he sneered, "What are you doing in he -"
Draco stopped short when he saw what Ron had been doing. His face was smeared with grease, and he held a single piece of chicken in his hand. Chicken looked just as startled as Ron- as if they had been caught in the midst of a forbidden act. Ron looked at Chicken, then at Draco, then at the Apple in Draco's hand. "What're you... But..." Ron stammered. "Is that...?"
Draco took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes," he murmured, for once not suppressing the desire to punch Ronald Weasley in the face. He might be a dirt-poor blood traitor... But he had a secret only Draco understood. Draco sighed, relinquishing both his access to the cupboard and his intense hatred for Ron. He winked at Chicken. "Have fun, you two," he muttered, and closed the door quietly behind him.
