Chapter Two
"Merlin's beard, did you see his face? 'I broke a nail! My father's going to hear about this!' Now he's a girl, he'll be even more of a bitch!" The whole table cracked up with laughter as Harry did impressions of Draco, but even Ron could see that the girls' laughter was forced, and he had the sensitivity of a blunt mallet, as Hermione was so fond of pointing out.
Hermione was still watching the door, not looking anyone else, until she turned to Ron, tight-lipped. "Let's go to class. Please." He nodded, the disturbed feeling in his gut persisting. He couldn't remember ever feeling so alienated from his male housemates, especially as some of them began to heckle him as he got up to leave.
"Why'd you give him the cloak? Prude!"
"Virgin! Virgin!"
"Probably didn't want to see his fat body. Or fancied it for himself!"
"Snake-fucker!"
"Yeah, Ron, why're you being such a spoilsport?" He got a bitter taste in his mouth as he realised it was Harry who had said the last one.
He and Hermione walked quickly until they reached the third floor, when she turned to him, looking distressed. "I swear I didn't know, I thought he just wanted the instuctions for research or something, God I was so stupid-"
"It's not your fault, Hermione. I just- did you see them ogling him? Even if it was only Malfoy, it creeps me out."
It was halfway through third lesson that Draco showed up. His long silver-blonde hair was in a messy bun and he'd borrowed a uniform from one of the girls, though it only just fit; he was quite a bit chubbier than the other, stereotypically stick-thin and milk-white, female snakes.
Harry had sat next to one of the less 'hopelessly clumsy' Ravenclaw students (probably so she'd do the work for him, and maybe for a quick lay later on), so the only seat left was, you guessed it, next to Ron. 'Typical,' he thought as Malfoy dumped her? his? bag down. Ron was getting confused which pronouns to use, but decided to stick with 'he'. It was less... weird.
"You-" Malfoy interrupted in a hoarse whisper before he could say anything else.
"I look ridiculous, you dumb jock, there's no need to rub it in. And everyone's staring at- at these,' he crossed his arms over his chest, 'so don't you dare or I'll hex you 'till your blood runs muddy. I didn't know how hard it was to deal with them, plus I can barely walk because my hips are different, never mind swagger like an heir of the Malfoy estate and my back hurts and I have to sit down to pee and I feel stupidly emotional about it all and, and...' his whispered rant trailed off and he stared confrontationally (and slightly tearfully?) at Ron.
"I was just going to say that we're on page 142..." Draco stared for a second, then looked down at his book. " Anyway, I think you look okay. I mean, you don't look like a ferret any more, that's for sure. More like a... particularly busty hamster."
Draco snorted, then looked surprised at his own behaviour. "What? Are you on drugs or something? No, you wouldn't be able to afford potions that fun without Potter's help, and he doesn't look too interested in you from his seat across the classroom."
Ron had expected the jab about his family's poverty as part of their normal conversation pattern, and found that it didn't hurt nearly as much as the stuff Harry had been saying lately. "I just... didn't want to hang out today. Not whilst he's being such a dickweed."
"Oh. Huh." Draco looked deep in thought for the next few minutes, though he didn't seem to be reading the textbook, and then sniggered. "Busty fieldmouse. You loony lion, you try being this short at this age, I swear I can't reach most of my stuff."
He was surprised at the neutral, even borderline friendly tone of Draco's voice. "I can't imagine being that short even in first year, you'd have to ask my shoulder what the top of your bun sees."
"Well being a rodent is better than being a genitalia infestation, what's Potter done that's so 'dickweedy'? I know he put the spell in my drink."
"Yeah, that was a low blow. That and harping on about doing 'whatever he wants' because he's the Boy-Who-Lived. That's why he poisoned you, to prove how untouchable he is to the other teachers 'cause he's old Dumble's favourite. He thinks the rest of us are completely stupid, worthless, he treats us like you treat Crabbe and Gargoyle."
"Really? But the difference is that they are stupid. The old, real pureblood families trade brains for brawn with spells at birth, to make bodyguards of younger siblings for the ones that are first in line. It's quite an archaic tradition, I suppose.'
"Well if the Weasleys were a 'proper' pureblood family, we'd be a small army. We could take over the world."
"Like a red-headed plague of rabbits!" He shuddered theatrically and they both giggled (giggled!? What was wrong with him? Ron'd never giggled in his life!) until Professor McGonagall threw chalk at them and told them to shut up.
They tried to regain their composure but both left the lesson feeling a smidgeon less antagonistic toward the other.
