Better Be Slytherin
XV
The Bunny Murderer
The wooden floor creaked beneath Pansy's feet as she followed the House-Elf, who was levitating her trunk, into the room. The familiar scent of her childhood hit her, secreting from all the pink textiles in the room: from bed-sheets to curtains. She felt at home.
The Elf bowed and retired from the chambers. Pansy sighed prosperously and sank down onto the wide bed. She glanced around and caught sight of a framed photograph on her nightstand – she picked it up. Images of her and Malfoy swirling around, slightly intoxicated, at the Yule Ball, appeared. Pansy was laughing, a dark bottle of Butterbeer in hand, and Malfoy was making faces. Crabbe was behind them, holding up two fingers in a peace-sign behind Pansy's head.
The current Pansy Parkinson grinned. It was already a year and a half ago, time passed quickly, she reckoned. How young she looked! Not to mention how short Draco was. She had not realised it before but he had grown. As had she. At the Yule Ball, they had only been fourteen, and only friends. Well, practically. How things had changed.
"Oh, Pansy, dear," her mother called from the sitting room down-stairs, "join me for a cup of tea and tell me all about your school year!"
Pansy smirked. Her own interest for gossip was firmly matched in her mother. Mrs Parkinson was a short woman, and it was not difficult guessing whence Pansy had inherited her upwardly pointed nose, but with the angular green glasses and the hard, almost nasty-looking facial features, their resemblance was not exactly striking.
She slipped on her pink dressing gown and made her way down the sombre staircase.
The first day of summer holidays, Draco decided to postpone thinking of his abiding task, and leave the manor to meet Crabbe and Goyle. Their day consisted of lounging in Crabbe's large house in Wandsworth, to be more exact, until Goyle got sick from eating too many sweets. Then they decided to meet up with some of the older Slytherin lads as well as Theodore Nott, to go see the first match of the summer Quidditch League Cup. Draco knew Pansy and her silly friends were on a concert in the Ackerley Town Hall seeing The Weird Sisters perform live (all girls their age fanned over the band-members – Draco, along with the rest of the male population of Slytherin, found it pathetic).
Draco felt strangely drawn to speak to Nott, he was intrigued to hear about where the boy was staying after his father had went to Azkaban, and how he was preparing for the trial. Imagine that, not having an adult for help. Narcissa had hired one of the priciest and most excessive Wizarding advocates for defending Lucius, but Draco quite imagined Theodore did not have the same possibility.
Theodore did not say much the entire day, however, and Draco followed his older house-mates' leads – and did not ask about it. But thoughts of the boy lingered in his mind through the night, even when they had said their goodbyes, gone back to Crabbe's, and Goyle had retired to cupcake-eating again.
A whistle blew forcefully.
"What the bloody hell are you doing!" came the roar of Cassius Warrington soaring through the air. "Stop blocking our own chasers and get that sodding snitch!"
Gregory Goyle, who the criticism was directed at (for he was playing the role of Seeker that evening), winced on his broom and gave a loud, frustrated groan.
It was the day after – the second day of holidays – and they were all playing Quidditch around Malfoy manor. The meadows and land surrounding the magnificent old building stretched as far as the eye could see, which was perfect for the sport – as someone long before Draco had even been thought of had realised, and installed hoops. They mightn't have been as large as the ones at proper Quidditch arena or the ones at Hogwarts, and nowadays quite rusty, but alas – he had his own Quidditch pitch.
Draco was in the air when he saw Pansy arriving, looking smug as ever. As Montague grabbed the bat from Crabbe in pure anger, to try hitting Bludgers at Goyle, Draco caught a glimpse of fluttering golden wings and bolted, giving his broom a good tug and rocketed after it.
"What the..." came scrawny and horse-like Adrian Pucey's voice distantly.
As Draco soared downwards, Snitch in hand, Montague rolled his eyes and Warrington stifled a snigger. Zabini (who was playing referee) blew the whistle.
"Ten pints to Slytherin!" Montague called out with a grin, hinting a liquid celebration for later, as he was on Draco's team.
And as Draco's broom slowed down and his feet touched ground, Pucey's confused voice could be heard once more. "But... Malfoy wasn't even Seeker, was he?"
Pansy smirked as she sauntered over. Draco was, as always, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, who had now landed as well.
"All right, Pans?" Crabbe guffawed. Goyle said nothing, seemingly grumpy for not catching the Snitch.
"Yeah, I'm all right, you's?" Pansy's shrill, teasing voice retorted hastily, as she moved in to cheek-kiss the three of them. Draco frowned. She was so odd, as usual. Girls, he reckoned.
Pansy waited dutifully as the rest of the boys came soaring down from the sky, left their brooms in the garden shed, said their goodbyes, and were off. The summer evening was mild, and the sun was just setting, sending pink stripes of clouds across the sky, contrasting the full green grass.
When it was just the two of them, Pansy moved in for a quick hug, sending one of her teasing smiles. Her hair smelled like sweets. She pulled away and started walking, grabbing his arm lightly to tug him along. Not being able to control his hands, and wanting to put them all over her, he put one arm around her neck as they began wandering back towards the Manor.
"I don't even know what you're doing here so late, silly," Draco teased her. Pansy gave her high-pitched laugh.
"Dunno," she smirked, "thought I'd pop in. See how holidays are treating you. I'm used to seeing your ugly face every day at school, so..."
He squeezed her side and nudged her with his shoulder, making her giggle.
"Slag," he grinned. She gave a mock gasp and hit him on the arm.
"Prat! I'm hardly a slag, am I. Dickhead."
"Yes, of course, I forgot," Draco taunted, "you've not found anyone at all who's willing to be with you, have you?"
"Oh, right, fancy seeing you here as well!" Pansy mocked. He grinned. He was still walking with his arm around her neck, having her close to him, trying to tickle her at the same time. It ended up with her grabbing his hand to stop him tickling her, while laughing. Somehow, she went on touching his fingers lightly, playing with them slightly, while telling him about the concert she went to the night before.
"Myron Wagtail, he's well fit, the lead singer, you know! Oh, Merlin..." she gushed.
"I know he's the lead singer," Draco snorted, with narrowed eyes. Why was she telling him this?
Pansy gave a loud, taunting laugh. "Ha-ha, are you jealous?"
"Yes, fat chance of that, definitely. Why would I be jealous of some middle-aged tossed who'd never look at you in a million years, anyway?"
Pansy scowled at him and pinched his hand. "Whatever, mate."
"Who is he, then – your boyfriend?" taunted Draco. Pansy rolled her eyes and smirked.
"It doesn't suit you," she commented, as they upped a hill and approached the manor.
"What's that?"
"What do you think?" she sent him a teasing look. He scowled. He was not jealous.
They came to a halt on the grovel path below the manor building. "Mother's probably going to invite you in for tea as soon as she sees you," Draco pondered. Pansy smirked.
"She does love me. She's not the only one."
Draco rolled his eyes and could not help but to grin. The confidence of this girl... "What do you want to do then?" he asked her. Well, he knew what he wanted to do...
Pansy just gave him her teasing smirk again, and grabbed his hand, trailing her fingers into his from a distance. "I dunno, mate."
He felt a jolt go through his lower abdomen. Merlin, she turned him on. He reciprocated her hand action by grabbing onto hers and pulling, making her trail towards him. He licked his lips.
But she only looked up at him and shook her head slowly, still that teasing glint in her eyes.
"Perhaps that cup of tea will be fine."
Slightly disappointed, he rolled his eyes. He had begun imagining the two of them sneaking up the stairs and into his bedroom, to be alone with her, but he knew it was impossible. Even the cup of tea was impossible. Bellatrix was there. Contemplating this in his head hastily, he realised Pansy could not come into the manor unless he told her everything.
They played Quidditch a lot that following week. Even Pansy was with them, whinging and blaming everyone else for her failures. It often ended up with her sitting on the bench and reading Witch Weekly while the rest of the boys played. Draco did not mind her being lousy at it – girls weren't supposed to be good at Quidditch anyway, in his opinion. She was good for other things – like speaking about his father and newfound aunt, like making him laugh. He had not even told Crabbe and Goyle about Bellatrix yet. It was refreshing to have Pansy for a friend. He could hardly take her seriously because she was such a silly girl, but she made him laugh, she was easy-going and fun to be around and she kept his secrets.
He had not dared to tell anyone about his mission for the Dark Lord yet, however. That, as well as thoughts of his father in prison, lingered over his head like a dark cloud. He knew he had to confide in Crabbe and Goyle sooner or later. For his own good. However, at the moment, he felt more connected to Theodore Nott than his two usual companions, even though both of their fathers had been imprisoned as well – he still felt like he and Nott were more on the same wavelength.
He had spent time with Theodore, the latter did not seem as angry with him as he had been on the day of the incarceration – and Draco had learned all about the temporary home the Ministry had provided for him. Together, they cursed Potter, and together they wished for the Dark Lord to take over so that their fathers could come home from that ghastly place.
His friendship with Theodore had even made the latter and Pansy get along.
Theodore Nott was jealous of Malfoy. He would never admit this, naturally, but to himself, he could not deny it. He knew it was the truth. He knew was just as much of a Pureblood as Malfoy, and, well, he was substantially cleverer than Malfoy. But Malfoy had the most important thing, the thing Theodore did not – a family.
Theodore's father was a Death Eater. A psychopath, an alcoholic, a murderer. Theodore knew that. He had always known.
He was beginning to not care anymore. He was used to taking care of himself anyway. He felt cold, as if shattered and empty nowadays. He had not had a mother for many years. He could learn to live without a father as well, probably.
But he wanted to go home. He wanted to live in his own house, taking care of himself, and Walter. So he had packed his trunk and left that sodding temporary home. He did not belong there. He hardly belonged anywhere – but in his own house.
He began realising he could benefit from a friendship with Malfoy, however. Not only for the sake of decent conversation, and a bit of company, but also by Pansy – because the boys already accepted him. He was friends with Malfoy – sort of – and along with that came the acceptance of Crabbe and Goyle. He was already on good terms with Zabini, and had been for a couple of years – they had always been the outsiders, together. But now, with Pansy on his side – she could get him into social situations, as if they were all hanging out in a group, she would bring him into the conversation, also with the girls. That, he liked about her. She had, perhaps unknowingly, perhaps unwillingly, helped him.
Theodore Nott was apparently weird, according to his classmates at Hogwarts. He was pale for the lack of sunlight, and had a "grey sort of feeling" about him; even his skin tone was greyish. He was scrawny and weedy with greyish brown hair and dark eyes. He did not look like a nice person – he had that scary look whenever someone was near him. He preferred his solitude.
Theodore himself did not care about having these things said about him. He did not have many friends by choice, he preferred being by himself. He knew that he was better than all of them anyway. He knew exactly when he wanted; he was very goal-orientated.
He read quite a bit, especially about Dark Arts, but also about History of Magic and Potions, his favourite lessons at school. He could not care less that the other kids reckoned reading outside school was for "weirdoes" and that they preferred spending their time talking about things that did not matter – like who was good-looking and who wasn't, and about who had crushes on each other - while drinking Butterbeer. He did not see the fun in that, he really did not.
He was cleverer than them all. He did not want to be part of any gang. He did get along with Draco Malfoy, nevertheless. Malfoy was a white-blonde boy with an everlasting smug smile on his pointy face. They had basically one big thing in common – their dads were Death Eaters, and they both wanted to become the same thing in time – mind, Theodore was not as dumbly obvious with it as Malfoy was. His friend boasted daily about his dad and the Dark Lord, and he was a tad less clever than Theodore, but Theodore managed.
Malfoy's accomplices, though... Theodore hated them. Crabbe and Goyle. They were enormous and stupid as trolls. They were spiteful boys who functioned as Malfoy's bodyguards and best friends. They enjoyed beating younger kids and nicking their sweets. Whenever Theodore, who was a rather short boy, was in their presence, he felt like an ant they could crush by only pointing a fat finger on.
Then there was Pansy Parkinson and her tittering gang of girls. Pansy was a loud girl with an upturned nose and boring middle-length brown hair. She liked the colour pink and coming up with ways of teasing their year-mates with Malfoy. The two of them always had some plan going on. You could say they were natural leaders in their year – having been Prefects and in the Inquisitorial Squad together. Pansy was very opinionated, just as the other boys, and she was obviously in love with Malfoy whether she was aware of it herself or not (although he did not know if it had faded – he could never know with those two, always going back and forth, snogging – fighting – being just friends...). Theodore found her and the rest of the girls silly.
Then there was Blaise Zabini, a tall and broad-shouldered black boy. In ways, he was alike Theodore. He spoke very little to the others. He was cold and slightly superior, he thought highly of himself. Apparently he had a fit mum who'd had a bunch of husbands who had all died a mysterious death and left her loads of gold. Zabini was a bit intimidating, but they got on well – better than they got on with anyone else at least.
Theodore himself lived with his dad in a small one-story house in the countryside. Overgrown with ivy, always sort of chilly inside and very desolate; Theodore absolutely loved it.
Outside his window he saw a display of a typical English summer day – it was windy and rainy – but Theodore was sure it would clear soon. The weather had been quite ever-changing this summer, but they had had a few decently sunny days where they could go down to the small pebbly beach and have a short swim.
Theodore was now sitting in his small bedroom in the greyish-brown brick house. He was by his messy desk, looking through some papers in front of him, but gave up, bored. He was waiting for Draco Malfoy to arrive. They had decided twelve o'clock, and his watch showed three minutes past. He stared at the seconds hand which looked like it had came to a halt.
He was sitting by the desk thinking of how grey and dull everything in the house looked. All the colours had faded and were barely visible anymore. The house was small and in need of renovation and Theodore reckoned it was weird that they were living in a house that mostly looked like it could have been the Weasleys', when his dad did have money.
And then the doorbell finally rang.
Theodore got up and hurried out of the room towards the hall. He opened the door and stiffened. His heart sank. Outside Draco Malfoy was sure enough standing, black-robed and as pointy-faced as ever. But besides him were Pansy Parkinson.
Her hair had grown a bit over the summer, but her presence was nonetheless the same. The sight of her made Theodore want to bang the door shut in their faces, but seeing as he was friends with Malfoy – although that could be discussed – he realised he had to be nice, or at least polite, to his mate.
"I'd forgotten I'd made plans with Pansy today, so..." explained Malfoy casually to Nott.
Pansy sighed inwardly. Draco could be so stupid.
All three of them were standing in Nott's hall, on his creaky floor, and with a large bunch of jackets and coats hanging from the wall next to them. Nott stammered out that it was all right, and Pansy saw that his cheeks turned slightly red, but he turned around to lead them to his room. Straight ahead Pansy saw a small kitchen with a stove fireplace, kitchen worktops and a big cupboard, as well as a rather small table with two chairs that barely looked like it could fit in the room. The dark tiled floor looked cold, but a fire was crackling comfortably in the stove.
But Nott did not lead them straight ahead, but to the right – into a small sitting room where the walls were filled with bookshelves. There was a fireplace in this room too, as well as a worn sofa with a blanket thrown over the armrest and an armchair that looked hard and uncomfortable. It was slightly messy, but still greyish and dull. Just like the boy himself, Pansy reckoned. He always wore that grim expression, and his brown hair almost had a grey tone in it. He barely spoke to anyone, always hiding behind a big book whenever Pansy saw him. Yet, he had a rather haughty posture and way of walking. There were a few things about him that reminded of Draco, and perhaps that's why the two were friends – at least that was probably why Draco respected him, Pansy reckoned.
They followed Nott through the sitting room and in through the open door to his bedroom. A gangly bed, a desk scattered with parchments and an ugly fat toad on the window pane was her first impression. A Tornados-t-shirt was thrown over the wooden chair before the desk, a lonely lamp hanging from the ceiling, a pile of books by the door, a set of joke objects from the Weasley's store lying in the cluttered bookshelf. Pansy thought that was odd. Slytherins did not buy Weasley-things.
"Err... Nice room," said Draco, looking around with a slight frown. Nott mumbled a "yeah, thanks" as reply. Pansy just stood there next to Draco, irritated that she was in Theodore Nott's stupid house when she could have been alone with Draco at the Manor. But she nodded agreeingly.
Nott cleared his throat. "Err, you can sit down on the bed if you like."
Draco did as he was told, and Pansy hurried after him. The bed creaked. They placed themselves properly, as Nott himself sat down by the desk and turned to them. Pansy noted an old teacup on the bedside table and had to force herself not to wrinkle her nose.
Nott looked at them, and Draco looked back at him. Pansy looked at the toad on the window pane. They sat like that for a tensioned moment or two, before Draco cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say something, but Nott had just started talking.
"Can I, you know, get you something? Tea – pumpkin juice?"
Draco closed his mouth and opened it again and said instead: "Yes..." he glanced at Pansy, who nodded. "Tea, thanks."
Nott looked relieved to get to leave the room, and they looked after him as he left for the kitchen. Then Pansy glanced at Draco. He must have taken her look for a rather snide one at that, because he rolled his eyes.
"Why are you friends with this bloke?" whispered Pansy. "He evidently can't get one whole sentence right."
Draco did not look at her, but straight forward. "He's all right," he said quietly.
"Yeah," snorted Pansy and looked away.
After a few minutes Nott entered the room again, with two cups of steaming tea. He looked a little flushed, and when he handed over one of the cups to Pansy she understood why. He had carried both of the burning hot cups all the way from the kitchen to his room, soaring up his hands. Pansy looked at him and had to conceal a titter. Poor bloke, she thought.
An hour later they had finished their tea and the mood was considerably enlightened. All three of them talked – mostly Draco, with Pansy interjecting more than often, and Nott mostly nodding and filling the gaps. They had babbled on and gone through several topics – school, naturally, the OWL results which they had received that same morning, Quidditch, the Inquisitorial Squad, Harry Potter, the Weird Sisters concert, and so on. And in the middle of all that, the doorbell rang again.
It had been Zabini, shortly followed by Crabbe and Goyle. When they had arrived, they had collected their things and gone outside. Draco had asked what there was to do around there, and Nott had said that they could always go down to the small pebbly beach and have a swim. Everyone was in immediately, and so they did.
Going out into the little garden, they noticed a cage in the grass by a carrot bed. It had a sign that looked like Theodore himself had crafted at a very young age, which said "Walter's Cage". Inside, there was a very small hand-crafted wooden house and its inhabitant – a brown bunny that supposedly was Walter, with long ears and whiskers.
"That's sort of bent," mumbled Crabbe as Theodore went over and bent down to feed and switch his water. Draco and Zabini sniggered, while Pansy herself only gave a crooked smile.
Theodore opened up the cage and let the bunny out so that he could jump around freely in the grass while they were away.
As they walked down the small country-road towards the lake, the sun disappeared in behind some clouds and it was suddenly not so warm anymore.
Vincent was whinging about his OWL results the entire way down and they were all pretending to listen.
"Honestly, Goyle, I think you should start cutting down on the sweets – your tits are bigger than Pansy's!" said Draco and laughed, as they all got undressed. They had reached the small, empty beach and the sun had come out again but was hidden by clouds ever so often. Zabini, Crabbe and Nott sniggered, while Goyle seethed and Pansy hit him on the arm.
"Oi!" exclaimed Draco, smirking teasingly at Pansy. She glared but he noticed how a small smile crept up on her face, as she turned away to keep undressing.
It was Pansy who ran out on the old, creaky wooden pier and jumped in first. The others were a short distance after her. Draco was hit by the shock of the coldness of the water, but decided not to show it. Crabbe and Goyle created enormous bow-waves when jumping in, almost drowning Pansy. They stayed in the water for a while, jumping in and splashing each other and playing about. Crabbe jumped in right in front of Pansy and splashed her down while she was already coughing and rubbing her eyes. He pushed down her head and she raged and kicked him in the stomach.
They walked back to the house with ruffled, damp hair and towels around their necks.
"Last time I checked, I thought you two hated each other," Theodore commented to Malfoy and Pansy as they walked up the garden path. Draco sniggered and Pansy giggled.
"What makes you say that?" Draco asked, usual smirk on his face. Theodore did not know what to answer, he felt slightly insecure again.
"Yeah," agreed Vincent, who started laughing in grunts. "Last time she was with us, she poured a drink over you."
Blaise Zabini rolled his eyes. Pansy laughed loudly, but Draco did not look as pleased. "I did, yeah..." she said very contently, grinning widely. Draco sniggered, put his arms around her shoulders, and mocked: "I forgave her."
She turned to him, also not able to keep a smile from her face, pointing her finger in his face. "No, I forgave you!"
"Can't stay angry with me long, can you," Draco teased. Pansy, who was still walking backwards looking at Draco, laughed and began protesting: "Sod off, that's not—"
And just as she was about to put her foot down behind her, still backwards, Goyle and Draco gasped and Nott exclaimed a long "nooooo!" but Pansy had no time to react; she put her foot down and broke Walter's small neck.
Pansy stopped dead, eyes wide open.
"Merlin, Pansy..." said Zabini, frowning at her. Nott rushed forward and examined the small animal while the boys all shared an uncomfortable glance, and then focused their eyes on Nott.
Nott slowly turned up, looking at Pansy as if he could strangle her. Little Walter was lying in a weird sort of crooked position, obviously dead. Pansy looked from the bunny up to its previous owner, and swallowed hard.
"Sorry, Nott," she said, sounding unusually soft and unsure of himself for being Pansy. Nott continued staring murderously at her until he finally said, and sounded extremely tense as he did so: "It's... all right." Every inch of his face was showing the opposite.
Pansy looked away and Nott bent down over his dead pet again, and Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini and Pansy looked at each other in an extremely awkward silence.
Then Nott sent a frightening glare over his shoulder at Pansy and hissed: "Leave."
He carefully picked Walter's dead body up and hurried into his house.
That was when Crabbe started sniggering.
"Pansy Parkinson – the bunny murderer," he spitefully got through in grunting laughs.
