Something about that question was off, Draco thought to himself. Backpedalling a bit, trying to scramble a bit for time, he asked, "Haven't you heard enough about that from the Weasleys?"

"Not... not really. Their stories are always about brothers, and their house is a zoo. It's all complete chaos, and... ireallycan'tseemyparentshavingsevenkids." Harry said, finishing the last bit in a rush. Please don't ask anything else, he pleaded, his eyes instinctively averted from Draco's.

Long training had burnt any desire to fidget out of Draco Malfoy. Still, he turned the idea over, and over again. "Let's trade. You tell me about your Muggle upbringing." There, not a sneer, not a stammer.

"WHAT?" Potter yelped.

And Draco smoothly interrupted, before that head of steam could come shooting out his ears. "That way, I'll be able to blend in a bit better, if anyone asks..."

Potter began to laugh - and it wasn't a pretty sight. It was a mirthless thing, an irrepressible gust of inappropriate merriment, like laughing at the sight of your dead cat. Moments passed, and then Potter sobered up suddenly, and said, simply, "No. Ask for something else."

Really. Really now, Draco thought, feeling absurdly satisfied at the puzzle that Potter was laying out in front of him. Something was going on in that mind of his, and it was definitely something Potter didn't want to talk about. And that was fine, Slytherins liked secrets, after all. Hidden ones yes, but especially prying out other people's.

"Then what do you have to trade?" Draco asked, trying (and mostly failing) to not sound snide.

"Why, what you asked for earlier..." Harry said, doing a decent job of mimicking Draco's attitude.

A pause broke the conversation, growing pregnant in length, as Draco scrambled to figure out what he had asked for.

Harry finally took pity on the blond and said, "You wanted to hear about my ... time at Hogwarts. The interesting parts..."

Oh, right, Draco thought, before nodding. "That'll do."

And, as if to punctuate his remark, the big black dog barked.


Snape stepped out of Draco's room, closing the door behind him. Manners always, he repeated mentally, with a bit of a smirk. As he stood there, Theodore walked by - his mind clearly on other things. Snape's thin hand closed around the boy's shoulder, making him jump. At this, Snape smirked visibly. Surprises were there to remind children to be more alert, after all. They had certainly taught him that, often enough.

"Where is Mister Malfoy, Mister Nott?" Snape asked, in a low tone reminiscent of a hiss.

Confused, Nott looked up at his head of House, his head turned halfway round to face him as best he could, still restrained by that nearly skeletal hand digging into his shoulder. Darting a quick glance at the door, he said, "Why, his door says he's studying in his room, see the "s"?"

"Oh? And when was the last time you saw him?" Snape said, the prompting as obvious as if someone else had wasted ten words.

"Potions, our last class on Friday, sir. When he decides to study, he's like as not to stay inside the entire weekend." Nott said helpfully and not fazed by the gathering anger in Professor Snape's face.

"How long has he been studying like this? Every weekend?" Snape asked, the two questions separated by a hairsbreadth.

"Oh, since the beginning of second year, at least... maybe a bit earlier..." Nott said, as if it was usual that the Malfoy heir would spend his entire weekend studying... repeatedly.

Snape frowned, and realized that, in all probability, none of the boys would have seen him. As he thought, the possibility that Draco Malfoy was attempting some sort of elaborate, insidious, Slytherin plan seemed to loom over all the others, even over Snape's tall, ghastly form.

Time to eliminate the easy ideas first. And that meant a joyous visit to his delightful friend Lucius. And his even more stubborn and overbearing wife Narcissa. At least he'd be showing up unannounced. Far harder for Narcissa to spring a pureblood on him, that way. If that happened, he was sure he wouldn't be out before midnight, and he had papers to grade!

[a/n: yes, in Snape's imagination, he is ghastly. I imagine he thinks it something of a compliment. He's never been deluded enough to think himself handsome, after all. But striking and fearsome and creepy? Oh, yes, he can definitely pull those off.

UpNext: The continuation of D/H conversation, and Snape's delicious journey to the Isle of Pain and Irritation... otherwise known as Malfoy Manor]