A/N: Next chappie. Go read to find out what pink giraffes and Bellatrix Lestrange have in common. :)
Disclaimer: If I were J. K. Rowling writing fanfiction under cover, I would not reveal my true identity, would I? Instead I would say something like Harry Potter is not mine. Harry Potter is not mine. But you never know for sure whether I am Rowling under cover or not. Although I'm not. Or perhaps I'm just saying this. :P
The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos
Chapter 3: How To Found A School
"I still can't see why he must be so upset about this," Daphne complained to Ginny one week later when they were meeting in a little coffee shop in Diagon Alley.
"He wanted publicity – he got publicity!" the Slytherin exclaimed. Her hair was just as green and messy as at the party, but her eyes were silver this time, and she had chosen to wear something a bit more comfortable that looked amazingly similar to a potato sack. She was currently in the middle of her rant about Draco still being mad at her for some reason.
"He got publicity all right," Ginny nodded. The Daily Prophet had done a fabulous cover story of Malfoy's birthday party, with exclusive photos and interviews. The disco lights would have looked better in colour but the whirlpool was fantastic even in black and white. Harry had been most regretful about not going.
Of course, Draco might have resented the accusation of trying to murder half the Ministry, or perhaps the fact that more than one person had sued him for causing physical and emotional harm, and demanded large sums of money in exchange for their public humiliation.
"If he chooses never to speak to me again, it will be his loss!"
Ginny, who had spent the last hour listening to her new friend raving and ranting about Malfoy, had got a bit tired of this, and tried to change the subject.
"What do you think about it?" she nodded towards the crimson book on the table. She had made an extra copy of it for Daphne and given it to her before they had parted seven days ago.
"I think… that Draco is being silly!"
"I meant the journal."
"Oh, that," the Slytherin grinned. "That was a good read, have to tell you that. Really, alcohol is one's best friend. It was high time for Draco to get loosened up, and do something he really wanted for a change, instead of doing what everyone expects of him. You know, you probably would never guess it, but the poor boy is rather insecure about himself. The war and everything, and the choice he made. It's not that he is regretting it, but he could really use someone to be there for him and tell him that everything is going to be all right."
"He has you."
"He had me," Daphne growled. "And he will have me again once he comes around. But that's not the same. Because we are on the same broom, Draco and I. Both Slytherins, both suspected of being evil, both trying to live in the world that is reluctant to accept us. I can manage because I've never cared too much of people's opinion of me, but Draco is different. He wants to be respected."
"And he will," Ginny reassured her troubled friend. "Once we have done what we plan to do, he will have both respect and love."
"Really?" Daphne brightened up. "I thought we would be cooking chaos?"
"We will. But chaos is a very good thing, you know."
"I know," she grinned.
"So, what do you think of the book?" Ginny asked again, happy to see the other girl smiling again, and not listing all the wonderful things Draco was going to miss out on if he chose never to speak to her again. (#26: I can turn his slippers warm and fuzzy. Even though I overdid it once and transfigured them to actual bunnies who then bit at his toes, but that only happened once. OK, maybe twice, but the second time might have been intentional. But it was his fault getting on my nerves with his incessant rant about how someone in Hogwarts must have paid off the house-elves to put lime into his apple-pie. He's allergic to limes, you know, and that rash did look a bit disgusting and painful, but it's not like it killed him or anything. That was Marcus, by the way, they had a little disagreement about Quidditch, but I got him later, and that was for both of us.)
"Beside the Draco issue," she added quickly as a familiar gleam came to Daphne's eyes and she opened her mouth.
She snapped it close on that, thought for a bit, and gave her a sympathetic look then.
"I'm sorry about your fiance. But it's better to find out before the wedding than walk in on him in the throes of passion with your own sibling."
Ginny glared angrily at her for a moment until she finally caught on to the meaning. Then, she continued glaring angrily at her.
"Harry is not gay," she pressed through her clenched teeth at last.
"Yeah. And Draco does not own a pink stuffed giraffe."
"Harry is not… Draco has a pink stuffed giraffe?"
"Yep," Daphne nodded happily.
"Why does he have… why would anybody have a pink stuffed giraffe?"
"It was a present from his aunt. He really loves it. Cuddles with it at night and everything. Well, at least he used to. A couple of years ago."
Ginny made a quick calculation.
"Bellatrix Lestrange gave Draco a pink stuffed giraffe?" Well, the woman was certainly mad, and now dead, too, but at that time she had been just mad. Still, not mad in the pink-stuffed-giraffes kind of way. Definitely not. No, Bellatrix Lestrange and pink stuffed giraffes did not mix.
"His other aunt. The outcast. Andromeda something."
Ginny re-calculated.
"Andromeda Tonks gave Draco a pink stuffed giraffe? And he kept it? And he likes it? And he CUDDLES with it?"
Daphne sniggered.
"I guess at first he simply kept it to annoy his parents. But then he must have grown to like it. And now, it's something that reminds him of one of the few of his surviving relatives. And no, he probably doesn't cuddle with it anymore, but then again, how would I know? He keeps his bedroom locked from me since that day he caught me snooping through his underwear drawer and finding a collection of his poems from there."
Ginny fell down to the chair in shock. Well, she would have fallen down to the chair in shock if she hadn't been sitting already; yet, this situation seemed to require a dramatic falling to the chair, so she heaved herself up to shaky legs and fell dramatically back to the chair.
Except that she fell past the chair, and rather comically.
"Malfoy? Poetry?" Ginny commented incredulously once she had made it back to her chair, and shooed off a couple of rather handsome men who had been quick in offering their assistance; Daphne winked at them.
"Let me quote," Daphne said with mock seriousness. "And the morning sun rises red from the mountains, and sends her light over the sleeping landscape. Birds sing, and animals wake and start another glorious day. Harry Potter dies. The end."
"He's not much fond of Harry, is he?" Ginny remarked with a quite genuine smile. This was something normal, for a change. Then again… "Or should I be worried about Malfoy writing poems of Harry?"
"You want to set them up?"
"Ewww!" Ginny made a disgusted face. "Harry with Ron is already ewww enough. But Harry with Malfoy is EWWW!"
"I agree," Daphne chuckled. "Besides, Draco seemed to be interested in someone completely else."
"Yes," Ginny nodded vigorously. "And that brings us back to our chaos making."
"You want to set up Draco and Hermione? That's a piece of cherry pie."
"Not only." Ginny leaned closer to the other girl and lowered her voice into a conspiratorial whisper.
"What do you know about founding a school?"
Daphne got it almost immediately, and Ginny was a bit disappointed about that – she would have loved a long dramatic pause full of confusion from the Slytherin and knowing smirks from herself. But the dramatic effects didn't seem to favour her this fine day.
"I think it would have suited us better to have Draco still in speaking terms with us, or at least with me, if we want to found it in his Manor."
Ginny now smirked the smirk she hadn't managed before, and paused for a long dramatic moment.
'May there always be sunshine, May there always be blue skies, May there always be mummy, May there always be me!' was heard from outside.
Ginny cut the dramatic pause off quickly before it got the chance to become any worse.
"We, my snaky friend, are not going to need Malfoy's permission. What's more, we don't need and don't want him to have any knowledge of our plans whatsoever."
She was ready this time when Daphne got it way too quick for a normal person to comprehend. Then again, no normal person would dare call Daphne normal.
"You want us to found a school in Draco's house without him being aware of it?"
"Bingo!"
"You do realize that we have to tell him one day, do you? I mean, he might notice a bunch of kids running around his house. Of course, we can chain him to a dungeon wall then…"
"What's the thing with you chaining Malfoy to a dungeon wall?" Ginny couldn't help asking.
"I just have a hunch that chains suit him. Besides, he did it to me once. Sure, we were both five years old, but that doesn't excuse his evil, evil deed – putting me in chains and placing a plate of chocolate-chip cookies just out of my reach!"
Ginny gasped.
"I know. That was incredibly cruel. Of course, I did push him into the river for that later on, but I will not rest in peace before I have him cookie-tortured."
It took the redhead a moment to get her mind off cookies and onto what they had been discussing before.
"We tell him. Eventually."
"Who else are we not going to tell about this?" Daphne wondered.
"Harry, Ron and Hermione. And everyone else who does not need to know."
"So you want us to found this school, Pigwarts, into Malfoy Manor, in total secrecy?"
"That's the plan."
"It's a great plan!"
"I know."
Grin.
Another grin.
Smirk.
Another smirk.
Evil plotting look.
Another evil plotting look.
'Oh My Gosh! That colour of nail polish looks perfect on you!' sounding from another table.
"So, do you know how to found a school?"
REVIEW, ok? (hopeful face)