Draco sat with his back straight in his chair, head held achingly high. As the last of the party guests disappeared through the grandiose doors of Malfoy manor, he turned to his mother in excitement. She had a soft smile on her face as she nodded at him, but halted him when he stood up about to run off.
"Lace up your shoes, darling. We wouldn't want you to trip." Her smooth voice crooned, as she cradled her wine glass delicately in her arms. Draco kneeled down obediently to tie his shoe. It was incredibly complex. Draco gave up halfway through, instead tucking the laces into his shoe and leaving it there, hurrying off at a faster pace than what was considered proper. He heard his mother sigh in disappointment, having told him many a times that life wasn't a race. He ignored her, rushing towards the display hall of the manor, wherein which he would have to take a short cut the elves made for him to get to his chambers.
The hall twisted and turned far enough Draco couldn't see the end, woven along the path worn and expensive paintings, books, and travelling trinkets proudly put up for show in clear glass cases and propped up around old chests. The smell of red wine drifted past his nose, mingling with the smoke of scented candles.
Draco shivered at the remembrance of how one of the house elves had cracked the glass holding a tied up old map, kept like a treasure so long that even the slightest brush of the fingers was prohibited, in fear the delicate paper might tear. Draco hadn't been able to sleep that night, hearing the echoes of his elven caretakers screams and begs each time his eyes drifted closed.
"Dobby?" he cheered brightly. The house elf popped into existence, wearing nothing but and old potato sack. The house elves had always been a constant in Draco's life, shown by callous' marring their bony fingers, and the gravel of their voice from years of hard work and labor.
Draco gave the elf a triumphant grin. He empathized greatly with the elves. One year, Draco could've sworn he had gone with only the phrases of, 'yes, sir,' 'certainly, sir,' and 'wouldn't dream of it, mam'.
He reached out to take Dobby's skeletal hand so the elf could lead him through the easier way to get to his rooms.
House-elves could apparate among the Malfoy Manor, yes, but Draco still wasn't quite used to the flips of his stomach the trips constantly put him through.
"Am I's right to assume Young Master Malfoy wishes for me to take him to his room through the tombs?" Draco let a huff as the elf's eyes widened and he slapped a hand over his mouth, before hurriedly fixing his mistake.
"I's meant to say the secret passage, Young Master Malfoy. Silly Dobby will make sure to iRon his fingers and toes once he is done with his task." Draco knew very well what the tombs were once used for, yet going through the old slave routes felt safer and faster than travelling the long distance with a whole bunch of items he could break and then get punished for.
The tombs were for muggleborn slaves, who used to be bound by their neck and joints, dragged through the menacing dark path as their only means of transportation to get through the house. Draco didn't particularly like the tombs, as he could still catch a whiff of the foul smell of urine mildewing the creaking old planks. Old rats and bogarts found a home in the abandoned passages of the manor, forcing Draco to seriously weigh the pros and cons of travelling through the elves secret passage.
"Of course, alas, you must remember to not refer to the secret passage by that dreadful name. I hate the reminder of what once went on in my own home, Dobby."
He beamed proudly at his wide use of vocabulary, unnoticed by the stout creature helping him to the old candle sticks that parted only enough that Draco could crawl through on his hands and knees, which always made the stone irritate and burn his skin painfully.
Draco felt himself begin to stumble as the house elf picked up its pace, hurrying to get to the claustrophobia inducing entrance.
Not bothering to request Dobby slow himself, he attempted to keep up with him only to trip over himself at the unexpected resistance from his feet. Stumbling to the side as Dobby let go of him in shock, he fell right into the wall back arching as he fell backwards further towards the glass case, ripping his back open in cuts as it shattered and tipped sideways.
He only barely noticed the alarm that blared around the manor at the breaking of something so valued, instead turning to sharply command Dobby to depart.
"but Young Master Malfoy-" Draco shook his head dizzily.
"That was an order." The pain kicked in when he heard the pop of apparition send his friend away.
Draco felt the horror creep up his spine as he examined his legs, staring at the glass and porcelain that had shattered all over him.
But it was the broken vase before he really cared about. It had been an accident, really, it had. There is a ringing in his head and the taste of blood in the back of his throat, yet Draco cannot move even an inch, fear sticking him in place.
Fear clenched at him, knowing his mother wouldn't save him for his foolish behavior this time.
Draco should've known, his father was going to kill him. He had just boasted about this case to the guest hours before, telling him how many galleons it had taken him to collect it.
Draco sobbed. Pain clenched from everywhere, causing a sort of dizziness to wash over him.
ItwasanaccidentimsorryfatherididntmeanydisrespectpleaseimSORRYishouldvelistenedtomom-
Draco sat limp on the floor watching in fascination as blood drizzled down his legs in small droplets, discoloring the perfect white tiles. White hot pain raced up the back of his thighs as the porcelain dug into his skin, sticking out grotesquely. He heard the click-clacking of his fathers polished black boots and let out a small terrified whimper.
IshouldhavelistenedtomotherwhyamisostupidpleasedonthurtmeillbeBETTERwhatswRongwithme-
Fear raced through his veins as a stRong grip wrapped around his forearm, hauling him to his feet causing the blood to rush out of his wounds at a faster pace.
Draco bit down on another sob.
"I'm sor-"
Slap. The sting hurt and temporarily distracted him from the pain coercing down his legs, before combining with it and forcing a whine out of his throat.
Grey eyes met ones exactly like them.
"You little shit" Lucius' boot clamped down onto the steadily growing pile of blood, causing it to slosh back onto his leg both runny and thick at the same time.
"How is it that every time I think you might incline to something, you disappoint me with shenanigans like this?"
I swear I didn't mean to! I was so good today! Why did I have to ruin it?
Lucius' long, snake cane slams into the back of Draco's knees forcing him to kneel in the blood covered shards.
"I asked you a question!" his father hissed, grabbing his chin roughly.
"I- I am unaware, sir..." he mumbles just above a whisper whilst adverting his fearful eyes away from Lucius's cold ones.
Draco moans as the snake pointed end of the cane hits him ruthlessly in the back of his skull, forcing his face into the bloody mess beneath. Gasps of pain fill the air, but Draco doesn't struggle.
That only makes it worse, makes him madder...
"You are unaware of why you behave the way you do? Really, because I was under the impression you did it just to spite me, to ruin the Malfoy name as you seem so eager to do!"
He tries to focus his brain on the words coming out of his father's mouth, but his brain feels sluggish and there is so much pain he can't stop wishing it away.
It's not like he doesn't know what his father's saying anyway, he knows he wasn't supposed to talk to the house-elves. And he knows that the vase was
-Worth more than your life, boy!-
He doesn't understand why he can't talk to the creatures, they're much better company than his mother.
-their worse than trash, beneath you! Do not waste your time on that filth, Draco-
He feels his father grip the collar of his shirt, and oh, he's really done it now. He has no idea what Lucius could possibly want from him. He forces his focus on his father.
"Do you know what I'm going to do, Draco?" his father chuckles snidely, and Draco knows his father is going to make him feel even more horrible than before. Draco coughs in reply, blood running form his forehead down to his mouth and eyes, obscuring his vision.
"No, sir." He wheezes weakly.
Lucius laughs, slowly pulling his wand out from the tip of his precious cane.
"I would use the cruciatus, but I'm afraid it might permanently damage your brain at this age..." Lucius muses to himself, a small chuckle rising to his lips. Cold fear rushes through him at that statement, knowing full well what it implied.
Not now, but later...
He pointed the tip of his wand at Draco's head, and Draco's eyes never leave the floor, even as he hears his father mutter the incantation.
"Mortem Ardentiaque!"
Draco's world slowed as what felt like burning metal wrapped itself around his wrists, slowly creeping up his arms. Draco sobbed as the chain tightened its grip around his arms, nearly severing them off. It wasn't until that new cuffs looped around his ankles did Draco scream, Loud and piercing he begged, begged him to stop the curse. Around his thighs now it creeps up to his abdomen causing him to writhe, trying to find solace from the pain anywhere. He screams as the burning sensation digs into, because he CAN'T getioffgetioffgetitoff!
"it hurts! Ha-hot! Noooo please, st-t-t-top-p-p it-t-t-t!" he pleads, slamming his head into the glass covered floor.
He claws to no avail at the chains, trying to pry them away from his skin, but only burning his hands in the process. Lucius didn't let up until the chain made its way to his neck, just close to killing him. He felt the burning receded for an instant, before returning full force with heat. It seemed to surround him, and e only wished he could through himself into the snow that was constantly covering Malfoy manors grounds.
There was a twisted sort of amusement placed on Lucius' face, alerting the 10 year old he didn't plan on stopping his punishment anytime soon. Draco squeezed his eyes shut.
Draco wished Lucius had let the curse be done with him.
Draco awoke to the taste of iRon in his mouth and pure panic. He knew this feeling well, his whole body frozen with the physical incapability to move.
Slowly he began to twitch his fingers, warding away all the bad thoughts and things he hallucinated. He thought he saw a flash in the corner, and his body froze up once again, and he cursed himself.
It wasn't real,
He told himself. Moving his fingers and toes again, he slowly made his way to start kicking around and begin to flex his arms. Soon he began to gain his senses back, and with it, the fear dissipated into sickness.
It had terrified him to move a single finger, but now, the churning in his stomach won over the fear of the dark and he was rushing to the bathroom, blood and bile spitting out of his mouth. His muscles seized up and tightened in shock from the pain on his lips and tongue. It was a nasty habit he had. During his nightmares it was almost guaranteed he would bite through the muscle in his mouth. Tonight, it seemed, his lips were a victim as well. Washing out his mouth, Draco glancing outside seeing the bright light he decided it was useless to try to fall back to sleep, especially if his mind was just going to be tormented again.
He reached into his cabinet, causing all of his sore muscles to pop in and out. Draco sniffled. He slowly pulled out his toothbrush and floss, spelling his clothes to him wandlessly. Once he had spat out and gargled mouthwash thoroughly at an attempt to rid himself of the taste of blood, Draco ventured back into his room. He was fairly sure he didn't scream, but he always put up a silencing charm on the walls anyway just as a caution. He grabbed his school bag, checking the time to see if breakfast was opened yet. He was fine.
6:22
Damn. He really didn't think he could face heading to the kitchens right now, he might have a panic attack. Seeing all the house-elves after that dream? Draco was going to pass. So, to distract himself from the hunger in his stomach, Draco busied himself with fixing up his hair into a tie trying out ways that didn't make him look too feminine. He ended up tieing his hair in a Slytherin green ribbon, his hair just long enough to slide into it. It looked kind of cute, something a girl would find attractive. His swished his bangs over his eyes in annoyance at his hauntingly grey eyes, so identical to his fathers. He couldn't help but exchange his normal sleek shoes with the boots his mother had gifted him in her all time goal to find a spell that would change him into a girl. Perhaps it was out of spite of his father, or genuine want for his mother's approval, but he found himself liking the heeled boots a lot.
Some people who believed in stereotypes would call him gay, and they would be wRong. Rest assured, he didn't have the intention to cross-dress, he was just slightly more feminine than what was average.
It was Pansy that was gay.
She had explained it to him once, It wasn't that she didn't see the attraction to males other girls her age had, or any reason not to like their bodies, it was just she preferred the idea of another female walking alongside him holding his hand and giggling like lovebirds rather than a male. She didn't see herself as a housewife and she certainly didn't see herself having a sexual intercourse with any male at all, top or bottom. He understood it wasn't the norm, but Dumbledore was gay, and he had a lot of people who supported him. So why couldn't she be a lebian, huh?
Because her father would disown her for sure, besides, your betrothed to Pansy anyway, she can't defy her fate at this point
Draco huffed at that thought, knowing full well his father would sooner imperious him the rest of his life then have anyone see a flaw in the Malfoy family line. Pansy at least would just be disowned.
He decided to focus on making it through the rest of the day rather than on something he didn't have any control over.
He slid out of the Slytherin common room just as the clock hit 7:00, time always seeming to move faster in the mornings. Draco trudged along the halls, deciding there was no point to stride if no one was there to watch him.
He was to go to care of magical creatures with the Gryffindork's, and after the blast ended screwts incident, he didn't think he could handle it. He was just fine with staying far, far away from the servant and his pity classes, thankyouverymuch. Not only that, but he had DADA with them as well, and wasn't that just great. Let's put the two houses that hate each other in the most dangerous classes together, yay I'm stupid. Shit. He was being especially rude today, he was going to have to watch his tongue.
Ever since 3rd year started, Draco couldn't find it in him to keep rivaling with potter and company, too engrossed in his grades to care.
Draco felt like groaning really loud when said Golden Trio walked into the Greathall, sending him a suspicious glance as they hurried to their less healthy food selection.
Draco's eyes followed one of the only professors at the hall slowly, watching him catch his eye. He froze wanting to turn away but inable to as the professor cheerfully made his way over to him.
What the literal fuck
"Somebody's up early," Draco started as professor Remus Lupin gave him a pat on the shoulder, sliding in the seat next to him. Draco sent him a befuddled look.
"This is the Slytherin table, you know that, right?" his new defense teacher chuckled, waving over to the goody-goody's across the hall who looked like death had been served at their table. It was clear they had not wanted their favorite teacher interacting with him.
"I'm very well aware, Mister Malfoy." He said condescendingly.
"but your- you're a teacher." Then, after getting no reaction,
"A Gryffindor, teacher!" Draco nearly fell off his chair when all Professor Lupin did was grab the apple out of his hand, motioning to take a bite of it.
Oh no he didn't
He must have seen the dark look that crossed his face, as he shook his head muttering something about Slytherins and germs and wisely sat the apple back onto his tray.
Lupin finally cleared his throat, showing he did have a purpose for disturbing his breakfast.
"Anyway, I've been meaning to talk to you about some things. How convenient it is we're up at and at 'em at similar times, correct?" he smiled wanly. Draco regarded him carefully.
"It certainly is, sir. If I may, what sort of things are you wanting to discuss?" he questioned, taking a small nibble out of his green apple without letting his eyes leave the professor.
Lupin sighed softly,
"To be blunt, I would like to talk about this bullying behavior you've been demonstrating towards Harry, Ronald, Hermione, and many other students who've complained as well. I would just like you to know to meet me after class today, so we can have a chat. I, unlike some other teachers, do not accept this kind of treatment, and will if necessary take house-points if I see you causing any more trouble around here." He informed him, a stern expression turning over his once gentle face.
Every instinct his father had drilled into him screamed for him to show respect. Draco felt his shoulders square as he gave a curt nod.
"Yes, sir." Lupin gave him an odd look at that, but Draco just stared at him expectantly.
"Well," he beamed the warm expression back on his face.
"If this works out I hope you will continue to come talk to me if problems ever arise and you need a good ear. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go prepare for my class" then with a mischievous expression on his face, he retook Draco's green apple from his plate, walking off with a triumphant bite.
Draco felt himself deflate in relief, not trusting the man with his company any longer. He closed his eyes, awaiting Pansy's arrival so he could vent what just happened to her. In the meantime, he poured himself a small glass of plain tea, and sipped at it halfheartedly.
He smiled in relief when about 20 minutes later his adorable lesbian friend waltzed through the doos, looking radiant and energetic despite her peers' sleepiness. Her outfit was risqué, bordering on going off the Hogwarts code. Her smile was wide and happy, innocent and sweet looking even through her inappropriate choice of clothing.
Draco watched her shake her hips all the way to him, capturing the few people that had migrated to the Greathall at the early hours attention.
Draco laughed at her, "Lovely! You look like you're going to star in all the Greathall's next wet dream!"
Pansy, of course, being Pansy, was delighted to hear this.
"Really? Whew! It took me an hour to get these fuckers on!" she said, sliding into the seat next to him as she placed her long leg across his thighs, showing off her new shoes. Draco winced, feeling uncomfortable with the unwanted physical contact. He searched for an excuse that wouldn't cause suspicion hurriedly.
Draco groaned, "Pansy, you being homo doesn't mean I'm not hetero" he complained, watching as her face flushed and she tried to inconspicuously peak at his pants.
He glared at her, "Pansy..." he warned, and she finally stopped, turning away with a huff.
"What? I've never seen a boner before, it's not my fault!" Draco looked at her in annoyance.
"How are you so inappropriate? You like, manage to say something vulgar with every sentence that falls out of your mouth." She shrugged.
"It's a gift," she patted his thigh, than reached over to grab an orange from the various fruit bowls they sat by. Draco knew he didn't like to be touched, but she was always doing so anyway, trying to force him into feeling comfortable around her touches. And after all these years, it was working. He didn't even flinch anymore when she raised her hand for a high-five, or gently ruffled his hair.
That didn't mean he was happy with her randomly jumping him, though.
Draco turned to her, a large pout on his face. "You won't believe what happened today, lovely."
She turned to him with interest, absently peeling her orange. "What, darling?"
Draco buried his face in her neck dramatically, better now that he was the one initiating contact, and showing her he was fine and wasn't truly upset with her, "Professor Lupin stole my apple. He stole it! It was so horrible! My poor apple...it must be being tortured by the unhealthy diet inside of his stomach..." Pansy tilted his head off her shoulder, sending him a grin. "What now? Why was Professor Lupin at our table?" So, only because Pansy asked, Draco ranted to her how horrible it had been. Pansy hummed thoughtfully.
"So that's why it looks like Potter just got told he couldn't have sex on Hogwarts grounds! I was wondering about that..." Draco snorted at the innocent way she said it. He felt himself reprimand her on instinct, and she merely rolled her eyes calling him names and teasing him about being a prune.
I only let myself use rude language in my mind, obviously!
They both waited for Blaise to make his way to their table, so their self-designated silver trio could go to class together.
They decided they were the silver trio when they realized the golden trio just seemed to be that much better than them at everything. Weasley and potter were better at Quiditch than Blaise and him, Granger was smarter than him, Weasley managed to break Pansy's chess record in first year, potter was more popular than him, Weasley was stRonger than Blaise...the list went on and on. So, unanimously, they decided they would accept their status as less and flaunt it, therefore creating the silver trio.
Blaise eventually strutted his way down to them, hair perfectly styled and robes buttoned up just enough so you could see his white undershirt beneath.
He supposed that was one thing they had over them, their good looks.
Mentally grinning at his thoughts, he greeted Blaise by giving him a suggestive glance, Pansy following his lead.
"Will both of you stop it? Me and Daphne didn't do anything, alright? We were just studying" Draco winked at him.
"Riiiiigghhhtt" giving up on trying to convince them otherwise, Blaise being Blaise, had grabbed a cupcake from the Hufflepuff's (whom never seemed to have real food) table, on his way over, and sat down with a satisfied smile despite his friends horrified looks.
"Do you know how many calories that has in it, Blaise? Think of your future!" Pansy sent him a scandalized look, popping another orange slice into her mouth, pulp and all.
"Do you know, Pansy, that we only have one life to live? And cupcakes are one of the blessings this world has given us to enjoy those few years we're granted?" Draco shook his head, agreeing completely with neither of them. Cake was a sometimes food. Not a never food and not an always food, just somewhere in the middle. Not that he'd ever had cake before, mind you, his mother would kill him.
I might kill myself.
He was fine.
"Alright guys, lets head down to potions. We've got it with the Gryffindors, so we want to get there first so we don't have to sit with any of them." He spoke up, grabbing his bag from below him and making his way towards the exit. Pansy and Blaise hurried to follow him, beaming smiles on their faces as they talked. Draco let himself relax. These two always seemed to have that effect on him.
Draco was followed by them the whole way to his godfather's class, getting many admiring looks from students around them. It made Draco self-conscious of everything about himself, from his shoes to the way his hair fell around his face.
Blaise being Blaise, taunted anyone who got in a 3 foot radius of them, and it took everything Draco had not to reprimand him. Blaise's cruel words were literally making the crowd part for them, though, and Draco couldn't help but appreciate not having to follow the student's makeshift assembly line.
Draco looked around his godfather's classroom in disdain. It was dreary, lined with creatures hanging on the walls like a freaky museum. The constant dripping of a blue liquid slowly emptying itself into a pink liquid below it echoed around the room, ever so slowly turning the colors purple. The smell of iRon and something else that closely resembled mint floated around the air. An old clock hung on the wall just behind Snape's desk, constantly moving in circles and never stopping to give a direct time, all three hands merely working opposite each other.
Draco found this clock incredibly unnerving, because whenever Snape entered the room, the constant whirring of the hands would stop, all always landing on the same number.
Draco shuffled his way through the clambering students, dragging his group into the middle row seats impatiently. He and Pansy sat at a bench, while Blaise sat next to his (absolutely official) new girlfriend, Daphne Greengrass. Pulling their books and equipment out of their bags respectively, him and Pansy relaxed at getting to sit next to each other. Across the room Draco caught potters eye as the holier-than-thou party members seated themselves in a bench together, with potter next to Weasley and granger chatting with the Weaslette.
There was a crash that snapped his attention away from the trio.
Longbottom struggled with carrying his bag up to his seat, his legs jinxed together. Draco squeezed Pansy's hand almost to the point of breaking her bones to stop himself from helping him, but when he fell flat onto his face and even some of the Gryffindor's snorted, his resolve disintegrated.
Draco struggled over Pansy to get to him.
"Draco!" she whispered frantically to him, "Snape's coming! You'll get in trouble!" ignoring her, he made his way to the pitiful boy, pointing his wand at him.
Potter stood up, alarmed, "that's cruel even for you Malf-" he trailed off as Draco gently murmured the counter curse, his wands light ways easily performing the spell with grace.
Draco leaned down to him, ignoring potters sputtering. "Are you alright, Longbottom? You seem to have found yourself in a pickle." He offered his hand to the fallen boy, "don't bother thanking me." Draco gave him a small smile, but was interrupted by Weasely jumping out of his chair.
"Neville! Don't take his hand! He's probably trying to curse you!" he yelped, rushing over to push Longbottom behind him.
"Don't you even think about it, you slimy git!" Weasley snarled. Draco carefully made sure he didn't flinch, even though it was his instinct on raised voices. He curled in on himself defensively,
"What is it, Weasley? Trying to play hero like Potter? Honestly, it's like you imagine I'm some sort of demon." He taunted, giving him a smirk. Briefly, Lupin's talk with him crossed his mind, but he was to riled up to care.
"Do I star in your nightmares, wittle ba-"
His mocking tone was cut off as a fist hit him square in the gut, forcing him to keel forward. Draco swallowed the blood that instantly made its way back into his mouth. He went to shield his face, but hurriedly hid his action by wrapping his hand around his stomach instead.
There was an abrupt decline of whirring sounds.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor for rash and violent behavior, Mr. Weasley. You shall learn to control your temper in class, if you wish to not be subjected to a month of organizing my collection of creature organs.
"Now, take your seats. We'll be brewing a Rithimus potion today, the ingredients will be marked on the board before you, as always."
Professor Snape made his way into the room, looking all too satisfied about having already found a way to force Gryffindor's points down.
Draco turned to Pansy and his's bench, only to found Astoria Greengrass had taken it, smiling and chatting with a clearly joyful and flirting Pansy. He sent Blaise a death glare as he had only one job and that was to save his seat, but the other boy shuddered and dramatically pointed to Pansy, making excessive hand gestures that definitely weren't needed to describe the wrath he would've faced from her had he forced her to save the seat.
Both of my friends are picking up a Greengrass?!
He looked back, noticing Longbottom had been carefully helped onto the bench that Potter was on, and then to Weasley, who was in a similar state of shock as him.
"I haven't got all day you buffoons, take a seat!" Uncle Sev snarled in his usual good mood.
Him and Weasley searched frantically, but found only one table left in the room, the one up at the very fRont was completely empty, no occupants in it even though it could seat two whole students. Weasley sent potter a horrified look, before glumly sulking next to him.
Draco sat down, eyeing the other boy suspiciously.
"look," Weasley began as he scooted as far away as possible from him, "we don't have to help each other, or communicate at all with the other. I'll sit over here as long as you stay over there, and we'll pretend the other doesn't exist." Draco scooted as far away as possible from the other boy as well, making them both needlessly on the edge of their seats.
"Alright Weasley, you've got yourself a deal."
Professor Snape cleared his throat, beginning his lesson with his normal flair.
"You are here today to brew a Rithimus potion, a potion that creates a poem based on your current feelings and life. Each team will work together to brew it, then they shall test it on each other to make sure it works properly. The poem can be taken home by you if you desire so, u may show it off like a cocky Gryffindor, or you can burn it as I would do, I don't care. Keep in mind I am only teaching you this irrelevant potion because your headmaster deemed it to be a exciting project. So let's have some fun.
"Now, let's begin the lesson."
Draco side glared at Weasley, huffing indignantly. "Well our plan went down the drain."
Weasley snorted in amusement. "I'll say. It's like he does it on purpose!" Draco sent him an exasperated look.
"You don't know the half of it, Weasley! I had to deal with Uncle Sev as my tutor for eight years!" Weasley looked downright terrified,
"Wait...Uncle?" Draco rolled his eyes fondly.
"Yea, I call him that but he's actually just my godfather." He explained with a small smile. Weasley cleared his throat awkwardly.
"So, er, I'll get the ingredients you start brewing?" he asked hesitantly. Draco nodded,
"Might as well"
And that was how Draco found himself slowly cutting open a rat's body, with Weasley wincing in disgust watching. He realized this was probably due to the fact the boys pet was one, and that made perfect sense. Draco couldn't imagine cutting open his owl! Not even his mothers', and that was saying something.
Draco reached out to poor it in, but his sleeves got dangerously close to the boiling concoction. He absently rolled up his sleeve, not caring that it was showing his arm safe with the mirror and glamour charms he had layered onto his scars and wounds to make sure nobody got suspicious. Picking up the innards once again to throw into the cauldRon, he rolled up his other sleeve as well, finding it was more comfortable to have them out of his way. He sent Weasley a grin, who was staring at him funnily.
Probably expecting a rude remark
But Draco didn't dwell on it, as their potion was finally done. He gently pulled out a piece of parchment, watching as Weasley poured their potion in a vial. Snape slowly made his way around the room, going through each paper to see if words had appeared on it then writing a grade down on the page.
Then it was their turn.
Weasley giddily poured his potion on a piece of paper, watching in shock as it morphed into a poem.
He seemed ecstatic his potion had worked. Draco grinned at making that happen. Weasley held his hand out for a high five as Snape walked to the next desk over, but Draco hadn't been expecting it.
He flinched shoving himself back into the chair, fear crawling up his throat in a small whimper as he looked at the hand he had raised.
His father's hand curling around his throat, squeezing until he couldn't see he hadn't meant it, he was sorry, he would be better don't do that god please not that curse I can't take it-
Weasley's shoulders slumped and he gently brought his hand down.
"Sorry! I guess you would get the impression I was going to hit you with our history." he mumbled gently, now just holding an open palm flat in fRont of him. Draco shakily clapped his hand onto Weasley's, earning a large smile from the redhead. Draco felt a sense of calm wash over him as Weasley slowly nodded at him, as if in approval, then jumped up to follow the rest of his trio out the door, looking considerably happier than he had been when he first sat down with Draco.
Draco stood up to follow Pansy and Blaise, whom immediately bombarded him with questions of the Weasley boy. Draco absently felt Pansy tugging his sleeves back down, mumbling about stretching fabric.
Draco felt like screaming about the fact he may have just made Weasely suspicious.
Ronald Bilius Weasley was, (despite the belief of his family and friends), a very attentive person. He noticed even the smallest of things. Like how all year Hermione had been swamped with grades. The encouraging glances mcgonagall kept sending her. The way Harry was becoming more and more anxious as Sirius Black wasn't retained by the ministry.
Or how Malfoy had flinched abruptly away from him, if only for an instant
He just wasn't the type of person to brush an action aside, even if it was brief smile or a breathless laugh, he remembered it for later.
So he had got suspicious, and a suspicious Ron was never a good thing. He usually liked to stay out of peoples business, (like Hermione's distance from her family, and Ginny's constant blushing and bumbling when exposed to Harry's presence.)
But something about this didn't sit right with Ron, and he liked to follow his instinct. That gut feeling that told him not to let it go, despite his logic (that sounded strangely like Hermione's voice) telling him that Malfoy was a Slytherin and he naturally valued self-preservation.
This not-right-feeling had led him with an idea, and Ron, despite being a master at chess, had always acted rashly when it came to making a decision. This occurred to him as he read through the parchment in his hands. Draco Malfoy's inner feelings.
He was proud of himself he hadn't gagged when he first read the terribly worrying words on the paper.
He had stared at it in morbid fascination, shocked by the meaning behind the words and disbelieving to what it implied.
What could have driven Draco Malfoy to have such as dark poem? He had everything! He was an only child who was showered with attention, his father got him anything he wanted, he was wealthy beyond Ron's imagination, and was loved by all of his whole house!
He was missing something. Was it obvious?
He tugged on both of his friends' sleeves, signifying they were going to be late for class (although with Hermione's newfound transportation abilities he seriously doubted it would affect her) as he steered them into an abandoned classroom in worry.
One thing was still floating in his mind, but he refused to consider it. Because it couldn't be true!
"Ronald, hey! What is it Ronald? Is this about the chocolate frog card again? Because I already told you I am not giving you my Agrippa ca-" Hermione hissed at him, bouncing on her toes as she watched through the crack of the door the rest of their classmates disappear down the hall.
She must've noticed the seriousness on his face because she trailed off, biting her pretty pink lip in worry.
No, no! Not pretty! He couldn't become love sick! Hermione had told him again again how brotherly he was!
"I never thought I'd be in such a dire situation where I'd have to say this but..." Ron squeezed his eyes shut.
"I'm worried about...Malfoy."
Harry reeled on him in shock, and Hermione's eyes had gone as wide as saucers from his statement. Before they could accuse him of having gone mad, he continued.
"Hermione! You didn't see him! You just-! Here! You have to read it."
Ron bit his lip, not wanting to say it. He gently uncrumpled the parchment he had nicked from Malfoy's bag, handing it to Hermione in worry.
"What is...?" she looked at the poem that was labeled 'Draco Malfoy, O for outstanding' skeptically. Ron hunched over himself in worry.
"Just read it, 'Mione!" Hermione cleared her throat as she began to read Draco's inner thoughts poem out loud.
"I am forever stained, with the ink of your dark soul. The words your tongue wrote on me, though now faded with the years, are still indelible and deadly, living somewhere beneath my skin. What is inscribed on a young heart, endures in secret, like a sorcerer's spellbook hidden in a musty, timeless tomb." Hermione swallowed, looking up at them with horror.
"The words your tongue wrote on me, though now faded with the years..." Harry trailed off with a sharp intake of breath,
"but- it sounds like, abuse or something! Or, but..." Ron wanted to elbow Harry in the side for managing to point that out so dramatically. Malfoy wasn't something to decode, he was a person that potentially needed help.
"Yea, but perhaps not physical abuse. He still could be referring to verbal abuse, and he carved the words that were told to him into his skin out of self-harm." Hermione pointed out. Ron winced out how blatantly she put it, so much like something Hermione would say.
"Okay, but what, hypothetically speaking, drove him to self-harm? And how has it been around for years?" Harry countered, biting his lip contemplatively.
"You two! This is Malfoy we're talking about! Malfoy who can't even look at blood without feinting!" he interrupted their creepy speculations, earning a sheepish look from Hermione.
Ron breathed in deeply. He knew he'd have to mention it at some point.
"He, I think, well...you know how in books and shows they demonstrate a character is being bullied or abuse by the way they flinch or react to physical contact?" Ron found himself rambling, but caught the attention of Hermione and Harry's natural curiosity anyway.
"Well, I raised my hand for a high-five, and he like, he totally, backed away! Practically slammed himself in the back of the chair. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he looked terrified. Of me!" the room lapsed into silence.
Hermione spoke up.
"We should confRont it this weekend, with the whole Lupin thing. For now, don't act differently. If someone's hurting him, we shouldn't go to a teacher just yet. They might hurt him more if they find out he's being suspicious. Or maybe we're just overreacting, you never know.
"We have the perfect opportunity to strike this weekend. Honestly, I never thought I'd be glad you were going to have to stay with the Malfoys, of all people." Hermione, ever the rational, ordered them.
"Nonononono! You can't pin some saving Malfoy mission on me!" He whined. Harry gave him an irritated glance, putting a sassy hand on his him that was supposed to come off as intimidating.
"Not now, Ron!" then he turned to Hermione, "I think your forgetting something. Who could be available for abusing him for years?" Harry reasoned, looking between them skeptically.
Ron shook his head despondently.
"I think your forgetting just who Malfoy's father is."
Lupin's class had been thankfully lacking of prying Gryffindors and instead including angry Hufflepuffs that kept mumbling about making Blaise puke up his cupcake and then forcing him to eat it again.
They also frequently yelled things like, "I will avenge my cupcake, and kill a certain someone!" and "How dare you enter the Hufflepuffs layer? The THE IMPUDENCE! THE AU-DACITY! THE UN-MITI-GATED GALL! You called down the thunder. Now, get ready FOR THE BOOOOOOOOOM! Gaze into the face... of fear. BOOGA-BOOGA!" the occasional "You can torture us and bomb and burn our districts to the ground, but do you see that? Fire is catching! And if we burn, you burn with us!"
Draco couldn't quite decide if he was terrified or amused, but didn't dwell on it and instead worried about Weasley.
Did he think anything was wRong? What if he knew what was going on? Was he going to tell any teachers?
Pansy squeezed his hand worriedly, biting her lip and nudging him with her knee. He sent her a reassuring smile, she smiled skeptically back.
Professor Lupin chuckled as he continued on. Draco quickly began listening once more.
"Since to both my and the class's surprise, the young Longbottom heir managed to decimate our practicing boggart, I've decided it would be unfair to make you do a report on it, even though my first idea was to have you write down what you assumed your boggart would turn into.
"So class, instead, we'll be heading out to Hogsmede to encounter an old magical creature that has been around for centuries, often tormenting us with its childish and rude behavior. Many muggles have even had to be obliviated from encounters with the pesky beasts.
"Would anyone want to try guessing what mythical being I am referring to?"
Draco looked around to see Joe Eilyab's, a young muggleborn witch's hand in the air, "is it a trickster troll?" she wondered without being called on. Lupin gave her a startled look.
"My apologies, it is not. Very good guess though, I award you three points to Hufflepuff. Trickster trolls often target large city's rather than small towns though. The creature I'm talking abouts goal is to make mischief and chaos to strike up blackmail usage for us wizards. While the trickster troll likes its identity to remain hidden from those it torments."
Draco had a hunch what it was, but hated not being sure and then being wRong. Even so, his hand inched its way into the air.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Lupin called upon. Draco straightened his back.
"Is it an imp, sir?" Lupin clapped his hands.
"Very good, Mr. Malfoy, I award you seven points to Slytherin!"
What? Only four more points than the guessing girl? Why wouldn't we all just infinitely guess to get points then, huh?
"The imp is a creature that has not a known sure way of dying. Wizards believe they cannot reproduce nor grow old, and are just constantly looking for some form of amusement, finding it in pranking us wizards and witches." Draco nodded.
"So today, Hogwarts has received a rather distressing call in the disappearance of a heavily guarded painting of Helga Hufflepuff herself, the only painting of her left aside from the one here at Hogwarts. This tragedy was followed by several other odd occurrences from pots and pans vanishing, to whole houses being flipped upside down. Earlier this week people have claimed to hear random bouts of laughter, and pianos playing when no form of music was in sight. The villagers stRongly suspect that the imps have returned as Hogsmede has a large history of the little hellions. I don't know if you know this, but since the incident last year Hogwarts has been, er, well, financially tight. We were planning on hiring the aurours to deal with this problem, but they wouldn't have it unless we payed a certain tax. But because of the sudden drop of funds from the Malfoy estate, along with other supporting businesses, we weren't able to afford it."
Draco felt his eyes lower. His father had been inexplicably angry last year, and had gone much harder on him than ever before. He hated to be mad with his parents, but this seemed to go a little farther than necessary. Draco knew that if his father had stopped funding Hogwarts, than the Goyles, Crabbes, Parkisons, and Zabinis at least would all follow. That's not including the wizarding debts (a magical tie that formed when one wizard does something nice for another, which then was to exist until they did something for them in return) the Notts still had to repay to their family, or the countless loans his family had provided for the Greengrasses in the past. Lupin had breezed over a clear problem. They couldn't even afford to hire aurours! It should've only been about 4 sickles (A/N: I did a check, and the muggles guide to HarryPotter/magic/money on wiki said that a galleon could be in between 100 to 500 US dollars. They also said sickles ranged from 6$ to 30$ and knuts 0.20 to a dollar. I decided my galleons would be 500$, my sickles were 30$, and my knuts were a dollar.) per aurour they needed!
The way it worked now (hopefully to be changed) was that every person paid any amount of money they chose to the government monthly, from 0 galleons to 50,000. (any extra money was counted as a donation) The more money a person gave, the more support and help a person received in a dire situation, like aurours. This was not the only thing the money was used for, higher paying people received safer insurance, and more utilities like school to be handled and paid for by the ministry. Draco was going to Hogwarts for free with how much his father supported the ministry, paying 120 galleons (50,000$) a year. While the Weasley's probably payed 20 galleons (10,000) a year, meaning their Hogwarts fee was approximately 4 galleons (2000) per child a year. It was unfair, yes, but most wizingmot wizards were purebloods, and had money, so why wouldn't they vote for such a law? It also kept muggleborns from becoming successful, as they had to pay back their Hogwarts fee eventually, and with no insurance or any of the ministry paying for the schooling it was roughly 20 galleons (10,000$) yearly, meaning they could easily be uprooted and kicked onto the streets.
With the way Hogwarts earns money, it should be cashing in about 560 (280000$) galleons yearly, without extra donations.
Your probably thinking, yea that's a lot, but then you're not really stopping to think.
Hogwarts' sleeping arrangments are included in the yearly fee, along with every meal of the day. So with just running on the fees, Hogwarts manages to pay for classroom activities, owl care, keeping up on funding the library, and paying each teacher their salary.
Hogwarts is running on donations.
Except his father, and perhaps the rest of the bloods purists here, stopped donating to Hogwarts the extra money to ensure their children's comfort.
This wasn't any old financial problem. This could mean bankruptcy, this could mean raising the yearly admission prices and cutting teacher's pay.
And with the whole Sirius Black situation, and the dementors that Hogwarts received to help protect it, he assumed they already ran out of their free aurour care from the tax they paid to the ministry. They couldn't afford to pay for the aurours out of their pockets.
Holy shit his dad might have just gotten them.
"So, I honor you with a special badge my students. It is your duty to find the missing items, along with to capture the imps that are causing us trouble. Of course, your work will not go unawarded, whoever manages to complete such a feat will earn a plaque for services to the school in the trophy room." Draco was interested. This game could be fun. He felt his stomach bounce in exctiment, already wanting to be the one to capture the creature.
"We've even decided to make a game out of it. The coming week will be spent studying up spells and charms to help ward and lure in the creature. Along with reports and other books to be read, we will begin the hunt this coming Thursday, followed through to Friday. If in that time no one manages to take hold of it, we will call the aurours to handle it, even with the high fee they want us to pay." Draco knew one thing for sure.
He was not letting Hogwarts go under if he could help it
Draco could take a beating from his father for disobedience if it meant keeping his beloved school safe.
As Lupin was ending the class the talk occurred to him and he nearly groaned. Pansy and Blaise had a free period, which was probably going to be spent checking out girls' asses in the corridor, without catching McGonagall's attention (which was tricky, he would know). Draco startled out of his thoughts when Lupin laid a hand on his shoulder, which seemed to be a habit the man had when facing a situation he did not appeal to.
With a smile, Lupin lead him further into his office, which was almost as impersonal as his godfathers. Lupin sat him down and beamed at him, beginning his chat or whatever without any of the normal pleasantries.
"So, to get right down to it, I'll need to tell you what usually happens here will not" Lupin informed him, and Draco felt his shackles rise.
Does this man have any tact?
"Of course not, sir. Although I will admit no professor has ever made this an issue before?" he made it come off as a question, implying that Lupin was supposed to explain 'what usually happens here'
"Well," he did that a lot, start a sentence with an adverb. "I presume that usually you come in, play it off extremely polite, give an excuse to your behavior, and then take a warning to not do it again?" most would be angered by these taunts, would already have challenged him, but fear rooted him down, keeping him in check. His father's lessons rang clear in his mind.
"Actually, sir," Draco bit his lip nervously, curling in on himself at the danger Lupin radiated. 'Actually' showed that a person had been wRong, could be seen as a challenge.
"I wasn't lying when I said that nobody's ever spoken to me about this particular issue before, sir, and I certainly am not down playing the rudeness of my actions. I apologize if I came off that way." His voice didn't shake, but Draco couldn't get his eyes to meet Lupin's, couldn't force his back to straighten even though he would have got beaten for his bad posture.
Lupin stood up, the scraping of the chair forcing a small flinch that he prayed the man hadn't noticed.
"You are good, almost as good as Sirius was" he murmured quietly, hand landing on his shoulder forcing another jump out of him.
"The only flaw is, I know this game. You cannot simply get away with this cruel behavior. Now, if you'd please, I'd like to hear you're so called reasoning for teasing those three so mercilessly." Lupin relinquished his grip, only to grab the cup of tea and sip lightly, a challenge in his eyes.
Draco swallowed, feeling as if Lupin was expecting some crazy outburst or something. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of it, he knew he wasn't particular kind to Gryffindors. That didn't stop him from fighting with them, though. Besides, it's not like Draco was some big stRong 6th year picking on first years. He was a skinny, small 3rd year taunting significantly stRonger than him also 3rd years. He was just cruel, not a real bully. Maybe needed to be taunt to not use slurs.
"This seems a little unnecessary, professor." He spoke slowly, attempting to calm the professor. He couldn't help but dislike the man, but he didn't do well with adults in general. Well, male adults. Females he just felt extremely anxious around, as if they were going to notice that his lips were chapped and his skin was slightly more tan than normal.
Healthier
"Nope! I'd like to hear your well-practiced speech so I can tell what kind of liar you are" Draco wanted to groan. He didn't have a fucking idea what to say. Maybe the truth? He supposed that might work. But he didn't quite know for sure. He guessed he would try,
"um...i don't have a spiel, I really wasn't lying when I'd said I never got in trouble for it before, sir," Draco mumbled, feeling shy about this whole thing.
Mother hated it when he mumbled.
His words seemed to surprise Lupin, seemingly realizing Draco really didn't have anything planned. He turned to look behind him at nothing, then sat himself back down on the chair behind his desk, leaning forward.
"Nobody's ever confRonted you for your actions? Ever?" relaxing slightly now that Lupin believed him, Draco let his bangs fall into his eyes.
"Ever," he confirmed. Lupin let out a long sigh,
"Is the only reason you tease them because of their backgrounds, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Yea, pretty much"
But Draco knew that was a lie. He was jealous. Weasley had such a, a good life, and all he ever did was complain. He had a huge family that actually cared for him and good friends who cared for him unconditionally. That's more than he could say! Potter was good at everything he did, and his father was constantly comparing him to the golden boy, telling him he had to be better. And Granger! She was just a filthy mudblood! He didn't mean that, that was a slur. But STILL, she managed to beat him in all his grades! Aside from potions, that is, but not from lack of talent, Professor Snape was just bias. His mother had been right when she assumed he was worthless.
Draco saw the contemplative frown on his teachers face in worry.
"Well, even I know that decades of family rivalry cannot be erased by a mere handshake. I have sent a letter out to you and Ronald's families', and have decided upon a project that would suit this situation perfectly.
"Since all you have against each other is your families' political standing points, then I've decided it'd be a good idea to have you two endure one another living conditions this weekend. Headmaster Dumbledore has already agreed it is a brilliant plan to get you two to get along! Ronald has already been informed of this project, I called you in to see if my assumption was correct, and it was."
Professor Remus Lupin had come across a pickle. He found, to his great dismay, that he couldn't stop comparing his old friend to the boy before him. It's just that, Sirius and him were so similar. They both came from old pureblood family's, seemed to take their problems out on other people, and both could get out of trouble and lie with an ease that frightened him
.
When Harry had initially confronted him about Draco, he had imagined some teenage prejudiced snob that didn't really understand anything who had a complete disregard for authority. And while he tried to be as non-bias as possible, sometimes he did let personal feelings get in the way of his job.
But Draco wasn't that. He didn't act like the bully, but like the bullied.
He had long since learned to find the signs, the constant flinching and scooting away, how he never failed to end every sentence with a 'sir' or 'professor', Remus was invested.
Way to invested.
He could be overreacting, it could be he's looking for something that isn't there, too absorbed in his comparison to Sirius, but it was the mere fact he'd flinched back every time he even remotely made contact with him on pure instinct that showed there was something between the lines.
And godamnit was Remus going to found out what it was.
Draco felt the horror enter him at the thought of being forced to live with the Weasley's for a weekend. It was going to be so weird.
His parents were going to kill him.
How was Weasley supposed to deal with his parents? That thought hadn't occurred to him before. How the fuck would his parents stay in line?
Draco suppressed the tears as he walked into the kitchens for the first time this year, startled when he saw his old favorite house elf serving a group of people he didn't bother to see because-
Dobby
He was so happy the little elf had made it out of that dreadful house, knowing full well the horrors he had endured at the hands of his family members.
Dobby couldn't save him from his family since he was still bound by the secrets of the manor. The house elf contracts all had certain conditions, and anything that involved him was kept under high wraps. Lucius was confident he was safe so long as the contract bound them, and Draco would free him of the contract if he could, but he wasn't he master of the house yet.
"YOUNG MASTER MALFOY!" Draco startled as the adorable elf barreled toward him, enveloping him in a crushing hug.
The house elf buried his face into Draco's knees, little sobbing sounds escaping his mouth.
"Oh young master Draco, sir! I missed you so much! Hows are you doing? Is the manor fine? Is master Lucius anger-" abruptly the house elf cut himself off, slamming his head into the side of the table. "BAD DOBBY! Very Bad! Young Master Malfoy I'm sorry! I's know you's dislike it when I-"
Draco kneeled down, gently gripping the house elf's spindly hands.
"That's enough, Dobby." Instantly the elf stopped, looking at him with more happy tears brimming his eyes. Draco chuckled good naturedly. He looked at the elf once again, taking a deep breath and wrapping his arms around the elf's small frame.
"I missed you two. I had thought that father mgiht've...i guess it doesn't matter now. I only care your safe." Dobby jumped up and down giddily.
"Not just safe Young Master Mafloy! Dobby is free! And getting paid real gold now!" Draco's eyes widened. He stumbled over his words.
"What-? But...how? Who is, paying you?" Draco looked at him incredulously.
"Hogwarts is, Young Master Malfoy! Can you believe it? A whole galleon a week!" Draco felt himself smile. Hogwarts wasn't exactly the safest place in the world, but it sure was his favorite place.
"I can't. Well, since you're now free, I give you my personal blessing to stop with that absolutely horrid title." He laughed as Dobby pouted exaggeratedly, giving him the stink eye.
"Fine then, I's compromise with calling you Young Master Draco, but you're not getting more than that!" he huffed, crossing his arms. Draco laughed happily now, surprised of the boldness the elf demonstrated.
"I suppose that's slightly better." He gave a grin, and took in Dobby's new look. Unmatching socks on each foot, a terrible maroon sweater, (where did he even find something that small? Is it a dolls? Oh, he and Pansy were going to have fun with this!), and bright blue shorts that ended just above his bony knees.
Dobby sent him a smile.
"LOOK! Its Harry potter! The Harry potter! The one you used to read to me about in secret! Its thanks to him I'm free now!" his voice turned disbelieving when he said the word free, clearly still taking in his new life style.
Draco's blood froze at the words.
He looked up to see potter and Weasley trying to contain laughter, and granger caught between a glare and a look of confusion. Draco stood up slowly.
"Well then, as much as I loathe having to admit it, I owe you a thanks, potter. Don't expect anything more than that, though." Draco managed to barely control his glower.
Hermione readied herself as she showed them the way to the kitchens Luna had taught her. The girl was weird, but Ginny liked her a lot, so Hermione hung around with her as well. Luna had said she liked eating in the kitchens, because she was teased by the other Ravenclaws and didn't want to endure through that.
Hermione breathed in, enjoying the smell of the kitchen around her. Ham and roast filtered through her nose, along with onions and maybe some celery. Bustling elf's greeted her as she was ushered into the room by tiny hands and feet.
Hermione had suggested this place because Dobby was here, and Harry had said that was Mr. Malfoy's old house elf. They were going to ask him if he knew anything about the treatment Malfoy received from his father.
Hermione got on her tiptoes so she could move her hand in a spreading motion along the pears middle, still unnerved when the pear began giggling and laughing.
Harry and Ron had been here before, when Ginny had initially introduced them to Luna, but didn't like coming back because she was 'rather scary when riled up, and for, whatever reason, the house elves' lack of freedom riles you up.'
The nerve of those two! For whatever reason?! Ha! Animals in the muggle world get treated with more respect than house elves! Wizards were so outdated.
Hermione gave Ron a nervous grin as she sat down on a stool one of the elves imediently provided her, despite her protests of being perfectly capable of doing it herself.
"That would be bad manners, mam! We elves shant be rude hosts!"
Hermione looked around, waiting for the elf Harry had known before knowing he would come with the news Harry was here.
"Mr. Harry potter, sir! What a marvelous surprise for Dobby!" she laughed at Harry's disgruntled face as he tried to pry he house elf that seemingly came out of nowhere off of his arm. "Dobby! Even I need air!" he choked out. Hermione attempted to stifle her laughs before Harry couldn't notice her amusement, but failed as Harry glowered at her.
She turned her laughs into coughs as she hid her face in her arm.
"Is there a reason why Mr. Harry potter sir came to visit Dobby today?" the elf asked with a large grin. Hermione butted in,
"Actually, Dobby, we would like to talk to you about someone you may know." Hermione bit her lip nervously. Ron saved her from being the initiator of this conversation as he nudged the elf lightly.
"His names...Draco Malfoy?" Almost instantaneously, the elf stilled. He looked at them skeptically.
So he does know him
"What is you's be wanting to know about him?" he asked, fidgeting uncomfortably.
"how, how did-" she was cut off by someone entering the room, gasping and looking ready to cry, was none other than Draco Malfoy.
He eyes were bloodshot, his face screwed up in an attempt at a scowl, his lips parted to take shaky intakes of air.
Hermione froze at the near impossible coincidence.
Dobby looked relieved though, "YOUNG MASTER MALFOY!" he yelled exuberantly. She blinked at his enthusiasm. The only elf who enjoyed freedom apparated over to him, crushing the blonde in a large hug.
What the-
"Oh young master Draco, sir! I missed you so much! How's are you doing? Is the manor fine? Is master Lucius anger- BAD DOBBY! Very Bad! Young Master Malfoy I'm sorry! I's know you's dislike it when I-" the elf was slamming his head into the table again. Hermione thought he'd stopped doing that.
But then his words kicked in.
Hermione felt like she was piecing together a puzzle, only getting that much closer to solving it when Malfoy stopped the elf from harming himself, even hugging him with relief.
Maybe he'd join spew!
No! Focus, Hermione! It didn't seem like Malfoy had noticed their presence yet, seeing as he'd taken it upon himself to chat excitedly with Dobby, like old friends. He looked so proud of the elf, and Hermione forgot just who he was listening to their adorable conversation. It was clear Dobby really like Draco.
"LOOK! Its Harry potter! The Harry potter! The one you used to read to me about in secret! Its thanks to him I'm free now!" Hermione hardly registered the elf's words.
Could Lucius really be abusing Malfoy? It seemed pretty far-fetched, if you asked her.
She snapped back to reality at Ron's laughter.
"I didn't know you read Harry's book series! OH! That's just priceless." Hermione rolled her eyes at him, giving him a good smack on the head.
"Honestly Ronald! Could you at least try to be civil? He was thanking Harry" Ron whined at her.
"Hey! What was that for, Hermione!" she socked him in the arm for pretending he didn't know.
She froze just before giving Ron a scolding because of shy laughter. She turned her head to see Malfoy, with his hand around his mouth and his eyes twinkling whilst giggling quietly into his hand. It was like she'd never heard before. It wasn't mocking or cruel, but quiet and rang nicely in her ears. It was off pitch, and a bit awkward sounding, but it sounded genuine, really genuine. Malfoy's eyes widened and stiffened at being caught laughing, his hand dropping to wrap around his waist protectively. She sent him an appraising look.
"You're welcome, by the way, Malfoy." Harry spoke up, his eyes softening at the sight of him. Hermione shared a glance with him, both filled with determination and curiosity. Malfoy cleared his throat.
"Likewise. I, of course, came here for a reason. Dobby, would you mind getting me a tea? You know how I like it." He asked, sliding his robes off of his shoulders, revealing a white shirt with a Slytherin tie, tucked into expensive formal black dress pants. Ron caught her staring and glared at her. She just shrugged her shoulders.
What? He was hot. You stare at girls all the time, hypocrite. I'm not going to start pining after him.
He had sleek black boots on, polished to the point of her being able to see her reflection in them. His arms were toned, but slightly thin and bony, his hair in an adorable tie.
Malfoy made his way over to the chairs she was next to, humming in contentment when dobby served him a fancy looking glass of tea.
"Is that why you's ask dobby about Young Master Draco? You's were to show him here as surprise?
Damnit, Dobby!
Malfoy glanced at her stricken expression in amusement, as if daring her to answer the question. He casually took a long drink of the tea, his grey eyes never leaving her brown ones.
"Er, uh, yes! Yes, of course! Did you enjoy your surprise, dobby?" she smiled with her nose scrunched up, holding her breath to see if the elf caught anything suspicious out of her. Dobby gave her a large grin, running to her and bowing low.
"Yes, Ms. Hermione, mam! I enjoyed it very well!" she looked at Malfoy to see if he was going to say anything, but he didn't meet her eye, instead giving dobby a rare smile.
Ron cleared his throat, looking at the tea in disgust. "What are you drinking, mate? That's smells disgusting!" Malfoy's face never lost the expression of amusement, offering the tea to Ron with a raised eyebrow.
"It's green tea, certainly no sugar or milk. I have dobby boil the water, than take it off the stove. After about ten minutes or so of waiting, he adds the water to the tea. Boiling water is bad for the teas catechins, and since I know who you are, Weasley, catechins are the teas healthy chemicals." Malfoy then took another small sip of his tea. Ron stared at him, aghast,
"I think I ought sort out your priorities, mate. Enjoying food is certainly higher up than losing weight!" Hermione sighed audibly.
"Well, I for one think getting expelled from Hogwarts would be an absolutely worse fate than death." Malfoy sent her a 'thank you' look. He held his hand out at her and huffed indignantly.
"I think that's definitely the order that should go in. My father would feed me to the dementors if I flunked out of Hogwarts."
What if he's being serious?
Hermione smirked at Ron. "See? Malfoy agrees." Hermione stuck her tongue out, trying to shake off Malfoy's morbid statement.
"Gah! You two or a problem when next to each other! Harry, back me up, mate!" Harry instantly shook his head, panic written on his features.
"I think both would be bad, but if the alternative to death is getting a dementor kiss for Malfoy, well, I'm just saying..." Hermione watched Malfoy choke slightly on his tea through a laugh.
Ron through his hands in the air, "I give up. You're all hopeless." Malfoy laughed quietly, but still blocked it out with his hand.
Hermione couldn't help but feel anxious. She wanted answers, and when she wanted answers usually she'd get to go search the library till dusk to find them. But this time, Hermione had a feeling none of the books in the impressive Hogwarts collection would have what she wanted to know.