Better Be Slytherin
VI
Carpe Cerevisi!
The train was travelling quickly in the winter darkness; Theodore could barely see more than his own reflection in the window and catch a slight glimpse of the snowy scenery rushing past outside.
"Ha-ha, I win!" exclaimed Pansy triumphantly.
Theodore turned back to the game of Exploading Snap.
Vincent shook his head and waved his own cards in her face."Fuck no, you little cheat, looky 'ere…"
Pansy and Vincent started quarreling again; Theodore had grown tired of it a long time ago. So he leaned back and watched them, but did not pay any attention to what they said.
The lanterns were lit, the compartment was bathing in a yellowish light. It was cosy, Theodore was drowsy and felt comfortably warm. It was late at night, they had been travelling for several hours, and he figured that they should be arriving in London soon.
Malfoy was reading The Daily Prophet and looked like he was basking in superiority. Goyle was reading a magazine as well, but one of less severity: Martin Miggs: The Mad Muggle – a comic Theodore had grown out of many years ago. But then again, Goyle was a little behind in the mental development department, Theodore reasoned.
Finally, when Vincent got tired of carrying on arguing with Pansy he got up and sat down over by the door opposite to Goyle, but not before he had quickly made a mess of the cards on the table with his big hand, and ruined the round.
Theodore and Pansy continued playing, and Pansy's annoyance disappeared gradually, which he thought was nice, even though he found it funny to hear her muttering and cursing Vincent. He really could not take her seriously when she was being cross.
Theodore slowly saw the surroundings transform from countryside to the townhouse-filled suburbs of London. He wished the train would never stop, he wished it would turn over and go back.
Christmas Day was Gregory's favourite day of the year. He always spent it the same way – with his and Vincent's families together. The latter was, despite everything, as a brother to him. It did not matter that he the only thing he got was a pair of Omnioculars and that Vincent got angry at his dad for something Gregory did not understand. Gregory did, though, know that Vincent and his dad always argued at Christmas because Mrs Crabbe had left them around that time when Vincent was little. Although Vincent acted like he did not care; his mother had disappeared before Vincent had even known what a "mother" was, and he had grown up with only an absent father, just like that weird Nott-boy. Gregory thought that he had lost a bit of empathy because of it; his friend had never known a mother's love and he reckoned there must be something not right because of it.
Gregory reckoned Malfoy and Pansy and the rest had through their lives received too much of everything – both possessions and attention. They had grown up with a mum and dad who protected them all the time, always getting what they wanted, and learnt to believe that they were better than others.
Gregory reckoned he was different. Yet, he was not strong enough to show it.
There were lights glimmering in the windows of their small rural house. Usually, they were surrounded by dark forest and nothing else, and looking at his home from outside, Theodore actually felt his bad mood drain off for a few seconds, leaving him to feel at ease.
"There," he mumbled, sticking in a carrot inside Walter's cage. "There you go."
He stroked his pet's long, soft, brown ears and for a moment he felt carefree. He enjoyed being out there with Walter, in the dark, in the complete solitude, not having to think about anything but himself and the small responsibilities having a bunny required.
He had never felt comfortable with his relatives; he felt like he did not fit in. And perhaps that was why he felt he needed to go outside to get a break from them all. His mother's parents were always round for Christmas – his grandmother was an obnoxious old woman who always had to say her two Knuts about anything and everything, and who smelled like she was slowly rotting to death. His grandparents were too old; he had never had a personal bond with either of them. His dad only invited them because he felt like he had no choice, Theodore reckoned – that, or because it was the only thing reminding him of his late wife.
Then there were his father's brother and his wife and two children. Theodore despised the attention-craving children of four and seven years old that had the perfect, sweet and caring mother and did not appreciate it. They took her for granted and he hated people like that.
Theodore would never do that. He would show his love and gratitude to his mother every day if it was possible.
"Theodore!" his father's voice called from the open back door. "Draco Malfoy on the Floo for you."
Theodore frowned, wondering what he might want, and got up. Well inside the kitchen, he saw Malfoy's head sticking out the fireplace. He sent a glance at his father, who put his hands up and mumbled, "all right, all right," and left the room.
"Hiya. Err.. what's going on?" said Theodore, turning to the fireplace where Malfoy's blonde head lay among the flames.
"Just wanted to see if you wanted to come to a party," he smirked. Theodore raised his eyebrows. Malfoy hastily went on, "Well, it's only me Vince, Greg and Pansy about, but Greg's parents are out, and we were thinking of plainly finishing all of his parents' finest Ogden." Malfoy seemed pleased with himself, and Theodore could just imagine how he and Pansy had been scheming and giggling and sniggering together, thinking about how much trouble it would cost Goyle. Theodore did not understand why Goyle would want to be friends with them. But that was not his problem.
"Yeah, all right."
Gregory Goyle lived in a dilapidated brick house just outside London; the area of the alike, dull and grey houses, stretched for miles by the look of it. When he arrived, at the dark one-story house he felt slightly out of place. Malfoy, Goyle, Crabbe and Pansy were all in the combined sitting room and kitchen. He was only really friends with Malfoy, and barely even that. He usually despised Crabbe and Goyle, and with Zabini not there he felt even more misplaced.
"Let's get him a drink, eh?" said Malfoy, grinning. Goyle looked reluctant, but handed over the bottle of Fire Whiskey. Malfoy poured him glass way too big; Theodore supposed Malfoy was not as experienced as he made himself out to be. There was Liquorice Wands and empty Butterbeer bottles scattered over the coffee table and Theodore wished the mood could ease up a little.
It did. Theodore actually realised that night that his classmates perhaps were not so bad. He stayed all night there with them, talking, joking and drinking Fire Whiskey. Crabbe and Goyle were indeed dull, Malfoy boasted a bit too much, and Pansy was overall a bit too much, but at least he had more fun than he would sitting alone in his room at home, and at least they all had a laugh.
Draco was happy and satisfied with his father confiding in him with important matters – over Christmas he had told Draco (when Narcissa had been in another room of course) about a gang of Death Eaters led by Walden McNair that had succeeded in bringing the giants over to their cause. Other than that, he knew very little of the Dark Lord and what his father or the other Death Eaters did.
A few days after New Year's eve, they went back to Hogwarts again and it was not long before Draco read nauseating headlines on the front page of the Daily Prophet about a-breakout from Azkaban where Death Eaters such as Rookwood, Dolohov, Travers, and Mulciber, Rodolphus Lestrange and wife named Bellatrix, and brother Rabastan had all managed to escape the high-security prison.
A month of schoolwork, prefect duties, worrying and laying-low passed and the weather stayed biting cold, dark and icy. Draco had slept feverishly and woken up sweaty in the cold dungeons. He had had a recurring dream for days; he never remembered it well when he woke up but he sensed the similarities between them; there was something about Pansy, a feeling he got about the colour pink, as if he should expect great failure every time she wore it. Draco had not dared to speak, or barely look at her since they had been back. For she had got a pink lip-gloss from Daphne Greengrass for Christmas and she used it every day. It was not like him, worrying over a girl – he disgusted himself.
"Oh, come off it," grunted Montague loudly, interrupting his trail of thought. He turned to look at his house-mate opposite to him in the dark green sofa in the common room.
"Off what?"
"Just ask her out then, will you?" Montague gave a guffaw, which rubbed off on Zabini, Vincent and Pucey, the weird one. Draco felt his cheeks go warm.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Graham," he said with what he hoped was chilliness in his voice. Montague sniggered.
"You don't, do you?" he said with a knowing look, as if he did not believe Draco. Draco snorted. What was any of this Montague's business? The big oaf who bossed them around at the Quidditch pitch, he did not know anything about Pansy. Draco did not want to ask her out, never. Even Pucey, the skinny, slow-minded and horse-teethed boy could surely know that.
"Haven't I always said?" continued Montague as Callum Yulley and Timothy Morcott joined them by the fireplace. "Haven't I, lads?" he nodded towards his friends, "That those two love birdies should just get it on."
"Sod off." Draco tried to sound casual, but his irritation came through. Callum and Morcott sniggered.
"Remember how she fawned over him that time he got hit by that Bludger back in our forth year?" said Montague boldly to Pucey, irritating Draco for speaking as if he was not there. "She thought he died!" he laughed and turned to look at Draco once more, "And we were all in the hospital wing, and we had to drag her off of you!"
The boys laughed. "We're all just friends," commented Draco sourly. He turned to look pointedly at Vincent, who immediately nodded in agreement.
"Right!"
"She obviously fancies you."
"No, she doesn't," said Draco hastily, frowning. "Does she?"
"She's always hangin' round," commented Vincent, shrugging. Draco looked up at him and narrowed his eyes.
"Right, because she's... entertaining," began Draco, looking pointedly at Vincent. Then he turned to Graham and went on: "Can't you even hang out with a girl without it being something more? We're bloody friends."
"Friends who'd like to get off," teased Callum with a look at Draco.
"Whatever," said Draco and shrugged with a curl of his lip.
"There's a hogsmeade weekend coming up, Draco," Pucey smiled teasingly, his horse-teeth very visible. Twit.
"She's mad for you, I reckon," said Montague, "And she's not about to give another bloke a chance unless she's sure you're dead... or not into girls... or secretly a Weasley."
The courtyard was damp. It was raining lightly, making the air misty. The students stood in groups in the school-yard. Draco sat down on the cold wet stone wall that lined the courtyard. He wrapped his cloak tighter around him and crossly muttered to Vincent and Gregory, who were standing on each side of him: "Bloody rain."
They both nodded, and Vincent angrily kicked a rock as if to show Draco that he hated it as well.
Draco looked down at the cobblestones covering the courtyard. He looked up again, and between his damp fringe, he saw Pansy standing with her girlfriends in a cluster some distance away. He immediately hopped off the stone wall, fixed his hair, and leaned back again. He put on a nonchalant expression and looked away. Vincent and Gregory straightened up as well – as if they silently knew what was going on.
Out of the corner of his mouth, Draco hissed to Vincent on his left side. "Is she looking?"
"Err... Well, no."
Draco groaned irritably and looked away. But then it hit him...
"Laugh!" he hissed.
Vincent and Gregory seemed confused, but started laughing in grunts – laughs that sounded like "heh-heh." Draco began to laugh heartedly as well. Pansy turned around and looked at them, and met Draco's fake-accidental glance as he laughed. The other girls looked as well, and Draco saw Greengrass saying something, making the girls snigger. Draco's laughter trailed off, as did Vincent's and Gregory's.
Pansy came over, but it was only to say that they should sit next to each other in Potions. She said that he could help her. He agreed, but silently thought that she'd probably be better off on her own – he was not really that good. The main reason for why he had good marks was that Snape liked him. Not that he would ever confess to that.
Fifteen minutes later, they all went down to the dungeons for Potions. They were to make the Draught of Peace, which Draco found really difficult. But when Snape mocked Potter, Draco felt more encouraged and laughed along with the other Slytherins. And when Goyle's potion caught on fire on his robes, Draco laughed even louder and did not care about finishing the potion correctly. He and Pansy just dumped some random ingredients into the steaming cauldron.
Pansy was reading her History of Magic book, scanning the page over and over – the Goblin rebellion was such a bore! It just would not get into her head. They were all around the fireplace – Vincent, Gregory, Theodore, Blaise, Malfoy and her, and had been for the past couple of hours. Schoolwork was overwhelming for them all, forcing them to study – a pastime Pansy hardly enjoyed.
Eventually, both Vincent and Gregory left (they had not been studying much, but simply sitting round avoiding to do so) for the dormitory. It was getting rather late, and soon Blaise retired as well. Malfoy lay down his book, glancing around him. Pansy looked up just as he did so. Why would he stay in the common room if he did not study? Pansy herself would have loved to leave if she was finished. Malfoy glanced at her. Pansy kept on reading. As did Theodore. Half an hour passed, in which Pansy noticed how bored and... impatient?... Malfoy seemed. She narrowed her eyes. What was he up to?
She lay down her book and cast him a questioning look.
"What?" he countered. Pansy did not answer. Theodore looked up, confused, as if his trance broke. He looked at his watch and then up at his two classmates. Malfoy sent him a look. Theodore looked from him to Pansy, and then he hastily got up. "Right, I'll be off," he mumbled. "Night."
Pansy looked down into her book again, but she could not focus – the words and letters floated together. She had thought Malfoy would say something now that they were alone – it seemed as if that had been what he wanted. Instead he picked up his book again.
"Let's hang out Saturday."
"Yeah, all right," said Pansy, not even looking up from her book. They hung out almost every Saturday, didn't they? "You couldn't have said that while the others were still here?" she said, with a curl of her lip.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Err, I didn't think of it until just now..."
They were silent for a while. He could not be... He was not... asking her... no... Was he? Then Malfoy looked up from his book. "We could go down to Hogsmeade."
Pansy slowly looked up at him, and her heart started beating faster for some reason she could not put her finger on. "Yeah," she said hastily.
"I've got to get new ink," Malfoy continued casually.
"Yeah, all right, definitely."
Pansy frowned. She wondered whether he simply suggested that they all go down to the village, or if he meant that the two of them would go by themselves. If Vincent and Gregory would be with them as usual, that they would only hang out like they always did? But then why would he ask her about it? Two days before? They usually just assumed they were going down to the village, like everyone else did. Or would it be just the two of them?
Had he just asked her out on a date?
Malfoy obviously had not known that Saturday was Valentine's Day, the, according to him, most pathetic excuse for a holiday ever. All of the girls had been excited all week, squealing and giggling and whispering amongst them, making the boys roll their eyes and sigh. Pansy was definitely one of those girls.
The cold weather had changed her plans of wearing nice clothes, and instead she had to wear three jumpers (whereof one was a self-knitted gift from her grandmother which itched and was well too tight) and a big fat cloak as well as a warm, knitted scarf. The things you did to keep warm...
"Potter and Chang!" she shouted as they passed the couple on their way down to the village, when Saturday finally had arrived, to a chorus of snide giggles from her friends. "Urgh, Chang, I don't think much of your taste... At least Diggory was good-looking!"
Daphne Greengrass,faithful best friend, laughed the loudest. Pansy simply loved her, for being as honest and funny as herself. They sped up, talking and shrieking merrily, often glancing back at Potter and his date. It was hilarious. Definitely have got to tell Malfoy, she thought.
Pansy's friends went for Gladrag's, a shop of Wizarding robes, down the road, but Pansy said "see you later" to them and headed the opposite way, since she was supposed to meet Malfoy at ten thirty. She stood waiting for him in the middle of the road.
And then she spotted him in the crowd. He just exited a shop with Crabbe and Goyle beside him. They stopped outside and Pansy watched as Malfoy said something to his mates, who both nodded slowly and then started trotting down the street, opposite direction from Pansy. Pansy felt her heart start beating a bit faster, much to her surprise. Gregory and Vincent were not joining them? Did that mean that this was, in fact, a... date?
Malfoy turned and started walking up the road towards her, looking for her. He spotted her and made his way through the crowd until he reached her.
"Hiya," they both said uncharacteristically awkwardly, and Malfoy looked rather doubtful, but took a step closer and they hugged.
"All right?" said Pansy.
He nodded. "You?"
She nodded and they pulled away.
"So, what have you been doing today then?" asked Pansy with a smile to keep a conversation going. Which should definitely not be difficult – they spoke every day for Merlin's sake!
"Err... We were just looking round the shops, and that. Crabbe and Goyle wanted to go to Honeydukes but..." he smiled a small smug smile and continued, "I refused. I prefer to not sponsor cheap Blood-Traitors like them. And besides, I get sweets from my mum anyway."
"Right, yeah," agreed Pansy, half-heartedly.
Malfoy looked satisfied, obviously not noticing her lack of interest.
"Err... Let's go somewhere, yeah?" said Malfoy.
They started walking down High Street, even though neither of them knew where they were going.
Every shop-window had wanted posters of the ten escaped Death Eaters. They all looked very frightening in her opinion.
"Well, then," said Malfoy, who hadn't seen what she was looking at. "Where do you want to go?"
He fumbled with his wand which he, for some reason, was holding. Pansy hurried to keep up with his pace, but she had no clue what to say. Then she thought, at the top of her head:
"Err... We could go to this place called Madam Puddifoot's... It's a cosy, err, place with great hot chocolate."
Malfoy's mouth crooked when she said "hot chocolate" and she did not know whether he appreciated it or found it childish of her. But he followed her. They left the streets full of students who were sauntering around here and there, looking through the shop-windows, sliding into a shop, or just standing in groups on the pavement.
They walked up a back-street and found a steamy little teashop. Draco opened the door and was about to enter but choked and found himself stopping on the doorstep. Everything was pink and fuzzy in there; everything seemed to have bows and all sorts of Valentine's Day decoration on them. It disgusted him. There were only couples in there, tightly entwined or holding hands. Pansy must be joking, he reckoned. Why would she bring him here? Lace and velvet... there were hanging hearts in the air over the tables; a sort of alive cupid who looked like a tiny house-elf in disguise was flying around, and suddenly shot an arrow with a heart at its end straight down onto the wooden surface of a coffee table by a cuddling couple near the windows; they jumped and the arrow wobbled, standing straight up.
The whole thing was ridiculous.
The place reminded Draco of the dress robes Pansy had worn on the Yule Ball the previous year – she had positively loved them, but he had told her she looked like a big fat cake. She'd been oddly cool towards him for the rest of the evening.
Draco shrunk back and backed up, turned to Pansy and started sniggering. "Pansy, I refuse to go inside!"
Pansy's smile faded. "What? Why?" She was just about to go for the door but came to a halt when he stopped. She saw the pink mess inside and frowned.
"Whoa. It does look rather too silly today, yeah," she said boldly. Thank, Merlin, he thought. "I mean, if someone sees us in here..." Pansy trailed off, looking at him knowingly. He smirked, content and a little bit amused. He was about to answer, when suddenly he saw something inside the teashop through the still open door. He gave out a sudden laugh, grabbed Pansy's arm and dragged her to him, pointed and exclaimed over excitedly:
"Look!"
Potter and a girl he recognised from Quidditch as Chang, were suddenly having a very public row. Chang was standing up crying, many of the guests' attention was focused on the two while the girl was shouting and Potter was, from what it looked like from behind, trying to sink into his chair and trying to calm the scene down.
"I saw them earlier!" Pansy exclaimed. "Was going to tell you. But I thought he fancied Granger!"
"Ha! She's crying because he's such a bad date!" said Draco in a happy and spiteful tone.
"I've got to tell my friends," said Pansy and tittered.
Draco turned to her and smiled as if to show his appreciation. She laughed. And suddenly Chang came running towards them, and crying she pushed her way through the two of them and ran off towards High street.
The scene settled inside and Draco and Pansy followed her with their eyes for a moment, and then turned back to each other. They realised they were standing close again and that they weren't doing anything, and Pansy cleared her throat and moved away, and Draco felt like his face got warm.
"Let's just go to the Broomsticks, yeah?" said Draco. Pansy nodded and they started walking after Chang back to High street; Draco with his hands in his pockets, looking away, and Pansy looking down on the ground. The awkward silence had already spread around them again like a thick cloud that they could not get through.
Draco kicked a rock. While they were walking it started raining and ultimately the rain was lashing down from dark clouds and the entire village was grey.
They finally reached the Three Broomsticks and entered, enjoying the feeling of getting inside to the warmth. The pub was steaming with the lovely smell of Butterbeer and was very crowded as it usually was when the weather was bad. The counter was occupied with shabby-looking wizards who joked and laughed loudly and stank of Fire-whiskey. Only one of the stools were not taken – the fabric of the beige-brown seat was tattered. The dark wooden floor was wet just round the entrance. Pansy stomped off the water off her shoes on the frilly doormat. All the tables around the windows were occupied, and those were the best seats, according to Pansy.
She quickly followed Draco as he made his way through the crowd towards a corner-table in the far back of the small pub. They struggled out of their cloaks, but Pansy pulled her scarf tighter around her neck for more warmth. Although she was glad to realise she would warm up rather quickly in there anyway.
"D'you want something to drink? I'll go get us two Butterbeers," Draco said quite hastily to break the silence that spread as they sat down.
"Right, yeah," replied Pansy with a polite sort of smile, uncharacteristic of her. Oh, she must've noticed how he accidentally stared. Merlin, Draco, she's nothing special, it's only Pansy... He rolled his eyes, giving himself a mental slap and went for the bar.
Draco got in queue behind a short fat witch in dark-green robes and with long grey hair beneath a big black hat. He looked down on her, frowned, and shouldered past her. He straightened to get the bar keep's attention, ordered two Butterbeers and paid Madam Rosmerta. He made his way back and reached Pansy one of the bottles as he sat down.
"Thanks," she said nonchalantly and took a few sips.
"Good crowd today, eh?" said Malfoy, casually nodding towards the surrounding ruckus of the speaking and laughing of their fellow pub-guests.
They small talked for a while, and then the conversation trailed off and it went silent again. Malfoy was sitting leaned back in his chair; Pansy had got her elbows on the table, resting her chin against her hand. She grabbed her bottle of Butterbeer and tried to see her reflection in the dark glass, but the round surface made her face look unproportionate.
They had run out of topics, they had only had a few brief stiff conversations about school, Dumbledore, the Weasley's, Liquorice Wands (which they both loved – thank Merlin!), plans for the summer, Prefect duties, The Weird Sisters, their fellow Slytherins, etc. That was about everything you could possibly speak of, wasn't it?
Malfoy was now sitting looking towards the opposite corner of the pub, seemingly bored. Pansy frowned slightly. They were friends, so why did this feel odd? They always laughed and joked together, they spent time together every day at Hogwarts but now that they were out in Hogsmeade on their own, they didn't seem to find anything at all to speak of. They spent loads of time in school, having fun, scheming together, they even wrote the "Weasley is Our King"-song and made the badges together; having Prefect duties together, him helping her in Potions (although if she were to be honest, he probably had not really helped her that much, he did not have good marks for his enthusiasm for learning and for his potion-making talent exactly…) – they had done everything together in school, but now when everything was so set-up and now that they were alone and out on a real date there was a slight tension and distance between them.
But then she realised. Oh, how obvious it was when she thought about it! Pansy knew one subject that if she brought up Malfoy would not be able to sit quietly much longer. It was very obvious, really, wasn't it? Why hadn't she thought of it earlier? Oh, how stupid she could be!
Potter.
He reacted exactly as she had imagined and wished – he immediately looked up, literally lit up in a giant sneer, his eyes eager and nasty. And he quickly started babbling on about Potter's miserable date, making Pansy smile widely.
The conversation was fluent and not at all awkward and felt like it should and usually did, for a long while, and Pansy was proud of her unbeatable icebreaking-method. Until…
Malfoy's voice broke and he blushed an unpleasant shade of pink and looked away. Pansy was close to sniggering, but she was clever enough to realise she should not.
"What do you fancy doing next?" said Malfoy, pretending as if nothing had happened. Oh, how she admired him for being able to shake a situation like this one off, but she admitted to being petty enough to ever mention or show it.
When they got back out to the pavement the mood was considerably different. Much more relaxed. They actually had fun together now, joking and teasing each other. They went to Honeydukes down the street to buy sweets. A bell tingled when they entered the door. Inside it was warm and colourful – a massive contrast to the cold and grey street outside. It smelled lovely and there were sweets and chocolate and lollies everywhere. Together, grinning and teasingly poking each other, they filled a bag with Liquorice Wands and paid the fat, curly-haired witch behind the counter.
Pansy was relieved of the new light mood; it was much livelier now. They exited again and walked along the street. They could see the castle straight ahead up on the hill. It had stopped raining now, but it was still cloudy and chilly – but Pansy found it pleasant and she was not cold at all. They shared the Liquorice Wands and joked and back-talked Potter and they, while sniggering, commented on random by-passers.
Then Pansy stopped at a shop she'd like to enter – she saw a gorgeous pink dress-robe in the shop-window, but on the same window there were pictures of the escaped Death Eaters. Malfoy switched slightly and frowned.
"We should probably head back," he said firmly.
The common room was nearly completely deserted when they got back. Only two small second year students were sitting with one large book each in front of the armchairs by the fire. They made no sign of noticing Malfoy and Pansy, who were standing by the stairs down to respective dormitories, just about to part.
"I've had a nice time," said Pansy with a small glint in her eyes.
"I suppose I could've spent my day in a worse way," was Malfoy's reply. He smiled unintentionally, making a small grin creep up on her features as well, and they shared a look.
They hastily moved in for a quick hug, before they parted ways to respective dorms. Pansy still did not know if they had just been on a date or not.
"We're havin' a piss-up in the common room after dinner, celebratin' Yulley's birthday - you're in, aren't you, lads?"
Miles Bletchley approached Draco, Vincent, Gregory, Zabini and Nott at dinner in the Great Hall. He made no attempt to keep it discreet, but almost shouted it at them. Bletchley was one of those large, boisterous, older boys who just didn't care. They all agreed to it and as Miles left, Draco glanced down the table and happened to look at Pansy, eating with her friends. He hastily looked away. Silly.
"Finish those already, dimwits," he exclaimed at Vincent and Gregory who were still munching pudding. Nott was already rising from his chair to make his way back to the dungeons. Well, then again, Nott was never the sociable one. But Zabini looked a bit irritated as well; he kept looking at his watch.
Warrington, Pucey and Montague walked passed them, heading for the exit.
"Comin' to the party, right?" Caecus Warrington threw at them. "We're gettin' started jus' now!"
"Yes. You lot go ahead," replied Draco, and sent Vincent and Gregory frustrated looks. The boys left.
Vincent and Gregory did as they were told, and the three of them plus Zabini got up and started walking out the Great Hall, towards the dungeons.
"He's the biggest Slytherin slime there is, I'm tellin' you. If he'd a camera he'd probably stick it in the girls' loo and take pictures of them while they're havin' a piss."
The boys all laughed.
The party had been going on for a while and Draco, Vincent and Gregory were sitting by the sofas with Zabini, Vaisey, Miles Bletchley and Warrington.
"Nice one, mate," grinned Pucey, as a response to Bletchley's rather vile comment about Linus Urquhart, whom he had fallen out with.
A gang of girls, Pansy was one of them, were dancing to The Weird Sisters in the middle of the crowded, green and dimly-lit common-room. It was just as it always was. The Wireless was on, students were having Butterbeer, and some, if they were daring, Fire Whiskey.
When Draco and his friends had returned to the dungeons, Butterbeer and Cauldron Cakes were already placed out and their house-mates were sitting chatting in groups.
The night was young and they had only started sipping on their Fire Whiskey, ugh, Draco frowned at the burning taste – it was really not tasty.
"Birthday boy!" was heard shouted by Yardley, Callum Yulley's best friend, and suddenly the newly turned seventeen year-old himself tumbled down into one of the sofas, followed by Yardley, Adrian Pucey and Peregrine Derrick.
"Hello lads. All right?" asked the cheerful Yardley.
"Yeah, you?"
"Yeah, yeah, 'cept Callum keeps whinging about that cake."
"You want a cake, Yulley?"
"Well, I fucking deserve a cake, don't I? Turnin' seven'een and everythin'!"
"Let's call a few house-elves, shall we?"
The conversation went on but Draco couldn't focus. He had a hard time keeping himself from looking at the middle of the room.
The boys suddenly erupted in laughs as a small house-elf popped up.
"How can Noddy assist you, sirs?" she squealed, but had a hard time making her voice heard over the boys' laughs.
Yardley calmed down and said "Well, y'see, we'd really love a cake, because you see, it's this bloke's birthday. He's seventeen today. So, err... Whatever you could do, I'd be forever grateful."
The house-elf's face lit up at the extreme kindness that she presumably wasn't use to in the Slytherin house.
"O-of course, sir! As quick as I can, sir!" And with a pop she was gone.
"You're getting that cake, after all! I'm the very best friend a lad could have."
The boys laughed. They all drank some more Fire Whiskey while waiting for the cake.
"I'm proper sweating in here, it's well bloody hot in here!" exclaimed Crabbe angrily.
"Cause you've got all that body mass to warm you," grinned Pucey, earning himself a murderous glare from Crabbe while the other boys laughed.
"Oi, Kevin! Graham Pucey! Go to bed!" shouted Miles Bletchley suddenly, rising from his chair and swinging his arm up to quickly point angrily at a boy a few years younger a bit away towards the entrances to the dormitories.
"Come on, don't be a dick!" shouted Kevin Bletchley back in a begging sort of tone.
"Graham, you as well, listen to your uncle Miles!" called Adrian Pucey, brother of the other one, with a crooked smile.
"Go on off, you!" Miles was hard as stone and the two boys went back towards the dormitories.
"It's my soddin' little brother. He should be sleeping in bed or writin' letters to mum or somethin', not droolin' over these girls. That's our job, innit," commented Miles as Draco downed his last Fire Whiskey in a big swig, dizzy and warm in the face.
An hour or so later, the party was still in full action, the cake had been eaten and Gregory had fallen asleep in one of the armchairs, the music drowning his loud snoring.
Draco was dizzy, he had to focus very hard to look at anything, yet he kept on drinking (Miles had stuck a new bottle in his hands a while ago), merrily than usual. He did not know how, but Pansy was beside him in the sofa now and they were laughing at Gregory's snoring. The Fire Whiskey was warming his insides a bit too much, and the music and sounds of his house-mates laughs was too loud.
"Listen to him," laughed Pansy again, and they broke into another fit of laughter.
"He's like a bloody walrus," Draco slurred out through all the laughter, making Pansy laugh even more, falling down over him.
Laughing, he helped her straighten up, his hands all over her, and suddenly her face was very close and although he could barely see her he suddenly felt a strong urge to lean in and snog her.
So he did.
