Better Be Slytherin
XXIV
Semper Ego
The cold water splashed against his waxy skin and dry eyes. For a few seconds the stress and anxiety drained off him with the water running down. He wiped his face and looked up in the cracked mirror in front of him.
Pale and nauseous, he was leaning forward with his hands on the basin stand, seeing his own face reflected for the first time in weeks.
"Malfoy, you all right?"
Draco swallowed hard and snarled back at Goyle. "Do I look fucking all right?"
Goyle only mumbled something vague in response, clearly uncomfortable and not knowing how to approach his classmate. Draco knew his two companions never had seen this side of him – he was too exhausted to try to conceal it.
The school day was leaning towards its end, and they only had one more lesson before dinner. As they began walking towards History of Magc, they discussed recent events. His stomach was screaming for food and he could barely keep his eyes open for the lack of sleep.
"I just don' know why he'd even question you," Goyle said, trying to be helpful, "you weren' even in Hogsmeade..."
"He questioned all of us though," Crabbe interjected, "even that good-for-nothing Nott."
"I would suppose he only followed school rules," Draco commented in a chilly tone.
"Yeah, Dumbledore's rules, that is," Crabbe scoffed.
"Well, he's an old fool," Draco sneered as they rounded a corner and came closer to the group of students waiting outside the History classroom, cheerfully cackling. "What'd you expect?"
"Muggle-lover," Crabbe grunted callously.
"But I supposed Snape would let you off, seeing as he knows you're doing something for the Dark—"
"Shhh!" Draco hissed at Goyle, sending him a sudden glower. Draco glanced around to make sure nobody had heard them and Goyle quietened down. Then he lowered his voice into a dark murmur: "I quite agree, actually, Greg. He has been rather bothersome lately…. Ordering me to his office, threatening me…" The last part was a slight exaggeration, but then again he was irritated with their Head of House.
Goyle let out a small gasp. "He did?"
"He could ruin everything, couldn't he?" Crabbe grunted darkly.
"What's he going to do? Owl my mother?" Draco mocked, shrugging. Then he looked at Crabbe bitterly.
Crabbe only shrugged, and then he along with Goyle followed Draco into the classroom.
Late that evening Blaise sauntered into the common room after another get-together at professor Slughorn's office. He had no idea why he had been chosen for these meetings – deemed interesting enough to be one of the few selected students invited over and over again.
He did however, know that Malfoy envied him for it, and for that reason, he loved going.
Malfoy always thought he was the most important person in the world, and to be able to look down on him for being chosen over him, was heaven for Blaise, who had never been one to fall under his classmate's power spell.
He did however, neglect to tell his fellow Slytherins about how the students from other houses had completely ignored him and his opinions, even loudly cleared their throats or mock-subconsciously interrupted him. Only because he was a Slytherin.
It was a subject rarely discussed in the Slytherin common room simply for the fact that it angered and upset so many in a deep way. Blaise, however, had never cared that much that he was being ignored simply for being a Slytherin. He didn't care about other people, he didn't care about his social standing. However, if he was to be ignored or ridiculed, it should be because of the person he was – not for the fact that he had been sorted into a specific house.
But he had never been one to complain and whine about unfairness. He left that to Pansy Parkinson and her gang.
"Good crowd today at Slughorn's?" Malfoy jeered when Blaise slumped down into one end of the high-backed dark green sofa.
"The usual," he muttered. "No other Slytherins, anyway."
Pansy, as expected, snorted loudly and huffed: "Slytherins are never picked for anything. Well unfair."
Daphne, Tracey and Queeenie loyally mumbled in agreement. Millicent only gave a snort-laugh.
"Not exactly news, is it, Parkinson," Blaise muttered at her and watched as her face turned sour. Gone where the days where Malfoy would tell them off if they spoke to her in a demeaning manner, and quite frankly, Blaise was pleased. Nobody told him what to do.
He went on bragging of Slughorn's dinner party for the sole purpose of infuriating Mr Malfoy for ten more minutes, until he finally mentioned something about a fine mead Slughorn had boasted about giving to Dumbledore for Christmas, and was then suddenly interrupted.
There was a loud clashing sound as Malfoy's book abruptly tumbled down from his grip and landed onto the floor and Malfoy himself, swayed sitting up in the sofa, and out of nowhere, crashed forward and banged his entire upper body and blond head onto the stone table in front of them, with a hurtful slam and fell onto the floor.
Daphne screeched loudly while Tracey gasped as her hands flew to her mouth. Crabbe and Goyle flew up from their seats in what looked like an adrenaline rush, and clumsily headed for their leader and plucked him up from the floor and put him down on the sofa. Pansy only frowned expressionlessly from the armchair she occupied as if a throne.
Malfoy, pale as a ghost in the face, had fainted.
"You! You can't be in here!" The schreech echoed around the empty lavatory stalls and the high tiled walls. His head still burning from the faint and the short visit to the Hospital Wing made the voice cut into his mind as if bouncing off the mirrors on the walls. "This is the girls' lavatory! Have you nowhere else to be?"
Letting out a loud groan, he slumped down with his hands on each sides of one of the cracked basins, and immediately that sodding ghost appeared, as unpleasant and vicious as ever.
"If I had, do you think I'd be here? Stupid ghost," Draco grunted out. The young femaled ghost swooshed closer, an investigating look on her ugly face.
"Who's pestering you then? That girlfriend of yours?" She grimaced and tilted her head to one side. He had a sudden urge to smack her in the face. If she hadn't been a ghost, he'd have reached out and grabbed those ugly braids on the side of her head and pulled them. If only…
"How do you know about her?" he said instead, giving her a cold frown.
"Seen you with her," Moaning Myrtle said in a short, chilly tone, as if the thought of Pansy made her jealous.
Draco rolled his eyes.
"Whatever. No, it's not her…"
She hastily moved even closer, until she quickly was right beside him. It made him jump. She giggled loudly, almost reminding him of Pansy.
She smiled what he supposed she believed to be a flirtatious smile and said, "For a ghost, I'm quite a good listener. Plenty of boys come and visit me."
Draco doubted that very much, yet didn't argue. "I don't want to speak with anyone, if you'll excuse me…"
"Why are you so ill tempered?" she whinged. The sound of her voice made his insides cringe and he rolled his eyes again and groaned loudly.
"Because somebody wants me dead, you stupid girl!"
Myrtle gasped loudly and her hands flew to her mouth. "Who would want such a thing?"
"Never you mind that."
"Somebody wanted me dead once as well…" She began pondering, a dramatic sadness in her voice.
"Can't imagine why," Draco muttered.
"What did you say?" she asked sharply, snapping back to looking at him.
"Nothing." He turned away and put on the water tap, let the cold water run and splash his face. He still felt dizzy even after lying in a hospital bed, examined by Madam Pomfrey, who finally could not find anything wrong with him, and only ordered him to bedrest for a few days, declaring him "exhausted". One good thing came out of it – he could spent his entire days in the Come-and-go-Room without the interruptions of lessons and schoolwork, but knowing McGonagall she would probably drown him in assignments to finish on his sick leave.
When he returned to the dormitory, he practiced Crucio on a fat spider he found under his bed for the sole reason that he was angry.
When he woke up the next morning, he ordered Goyle to fetch him a plate full of sandwhiches from breakfast, and loyally enough he did as he was told – trotting up to the Great Hall, stuffed a plate full and then returned to the dormitory. Goyle left him munching on a turkey sandwhich still in his pyjamas, and Draco felt a slight naughty excitement in having the day off school while everyone else were sat in History of Magic, snoring each other's ears off.
After finishing his breakfast and getting dressed, he brough the half-full plate of sandwiches and his Ancient Spells book for inspiration and jetted off towards the seventh corridor. The first morning lesson had just begun, so he felt secure moving through the castle unnoticed. On his way, balancing the plate in the other hand, he sent a message to Rosmerta ordering her to give Slughorn a bottle of poisoned mead, using his bewitched coin.
Snow was once again whirling against the frosty windows, finally Christmas was arriving, and in theory he had achieved nothing yet. Hogwarts had been decorated with large sparkly Christmas trees, floating candles everywhere, and mistletoe in practically every doorstep. In the cold Slytherin common room a constant vivid fire was crackling, slowly warming the room up, and everyone wanted to sit in the dark green armchairs in front of them, as the rest of the common room was simply too cold. Crabbe and Goyle usually occupied them – since no younger children dared say anything. The expection was when Pansy entered the common room; because she would hex Crabbe and Goyle until they left.
All sixth-years had packed schedules, and many stayed up until early morning studying or finishing homework in the common room. It was oddly quiet – as if nobody had time to speak to each other as they usually would. There were lessons all day long, and then they worked on their assignments all evening. Even dinner had become something to hurry through – and nobody except Crabbe and Goyle had time for pudding (they were the only one who prioritised it). Pansy sat tired-looking and with red eyes and unbrushed hair, chewing her gum every lesson, looking like she was too exhausted to take in a word.
Draco himself had become familiarised with his new sickly skinny form and the constant dark rings under his eyes. He knew he looked ill. He just hadn't time to care. He had been skivving off every single Quidditch practice, and any lessons he could get away with – History and Potions and Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology… He had to show up to Defence to show Snape he was still going strong without any help, and he strategically didn't dare skipping McGonagall's lesson since he couldn't risk more detentions.
After their big row at Madam Puddifoot's both he and Pansy seemed too proud to ask for forgiveness or solve anything. Frankly, Draco had no time to speak to her – not to mention how he hadn't managed to escape the fact that Pansy seemed to be hanging round Nott more and more. He wondered whether she did it to possibly make Draco jealous, or because she, for some reason he was oblivious to, found something about the boy interesting.
In the Great Hall, he looked at her when she threw her head back and gave her high-pitched laugh, her eyes glinting and her upturned nose in the air, her dark hair outlining her face. He loved watching her laugh. And it made him feel so distant from the others - he hadn't laughed in months.
They had nothing serious that occupied their minds. Just school work, Quidditch, Prefect duties, getting enough sleep to make it through the school day, homework, eating.
His life had become so different. Pansy could not understand him anymore, he knew - which was why he didn't want her around anymore. He had become so different compared to the rest of them. They could never understand.
Pansy just kept on laughing.
Theodore had been dead set on becoming a Death Eater for as long as he could remember. The glory, the power, the authority, the respect, the fear – everything drew him in like a moth to a flame. It had him shuddering in odd excitement.
When his father had been sent to Azkaban like a common thief that summer, it had only made him angrier, hungrier, colder.
Now, in the midst of the mid-December darkness, whenever he spotted Pansy's shiny brown head he forgot everything else. It captivated him. More than it had that summer when he saw the curves of her breasts and the way she kissed Malfoy.
He found himself staring at her intensely from across the Slytherin table one evening, realised he had done so for a good few minutes and forced himself to look away quickly.
That was when he accepted that he had a massive crush on Pansy Parkinson.
Because whenever he saw her and she, in his opinion, forcefully (unknowingly) invaded his mind – he always forgot about the Dark Lord.
His mind kept spinning. Malfoy was obviously doing poorly with his assignment for the Dark Lord. He had observed that Crabbe seemed like he didn't want to follow Malfoy around blindly anymore – he clearly wanted glory, and that could never be found in Malfoy's shadow. Malfoy had lost Pansy. All of this had Theodore smirking merrily. Malfoy was about to lose everything – served him right for beating Theodore to the Dark Lord's service.
He had for a while tried telling himself Pansy was a ditzy cow – and Malfoy's ditzy cow at that, and he had long been ashamed of his feelings, but he could not hold them back anymore.
The last day of the term Slughorn had his Christmas party at eight o'clock in his office. Whoever wasn't invited had dinner in the Great Hall at the end of term feast instead.
Draco did neither.
After his last lesson earlier that day he had hurried to the Great Hall, nabbed a piece of bread which he had devoured quickly on his way up to the seventh floor. Several hours later when he had exited the Come-and-go-Room to run to the boys' lavatory, he had been suprisingly caught by Filch. His protests had accomplished nothing, and his excuses about "attending Slughorn's christmas party" only put him in even more trouble, as Filch began dragging him towards the party, to Draco's frustration and humiliation. Lovely.
As he came face to face with Slughorn, Snape and Potter, he decided it was better getting busted trying to sneak into some silly party than to be busted doing what he really had been doing. To Filch's disappointment and his own feigned relief, Slughorn beshrewed himself over Draco and let him stay, punishmentless. Draco collected himself and put a large smile on his face. He ignored Snape studying him.
"Thank you very much, sir, professor, for being such a kind host as to let me stay for this glorious party…"
Filch was probably one slightly more disappointed than Draco himself , but for different reasons. Filch probably wanted to hang Draco's wrists in chains down in his office or something – Draco didn't even want to be at this stupid party, he wanted to keep working on the cabinet as much as possible before going home tomorrow.
"It's nothing, nothing," replied Slughorn, red and tipsy, "I did know your grandfather, after all…"
"He always spoke very highly of you, sir. Said you were the best potion-maker he'd ever known…"
"I'd like a word with you, Draco," Snape suddenly interrupted. Draco's heart sank. Sigh.
"Now, Severus," said Slughorn, hiccupping again, "it's Christmas, don't be too hard —"
"I am his Head of House, and I shall decide how hard, or other-wise, to be," said Snape curtly. "Follow me, Draco."
Snape led the way and Draco bitterly followed him out of the party and down the corridor. The music and loud talking was still audible from Slughorn's office behind them. Snape strode determinedly down the hall and did not stop until the very last classroom door, jerked it open and Draco reluctantly followed him inside.
Snape looked at him intensely, his black eyes boring into Draco's, saying nothing. Finally Draco looked away, slightly uncomfortable.
"What, Snape?"
"What are you doing, Draco?" Snape finally spoke, in a chilly tone. "You do know you're not supposed to be out of the common room after curfew, you were sent to bed-rest. The rules do apply to you as well, I hope you realise that."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Come on, Snape, don't pretend as if you're going to give me detention."
"Well you're, what shall I say, making it quite difficult."
"Oh yeah? How do you think the Dark Lord will find that then?" Draco defied. "Your inability to assist me! Your attempt at sabotaging me! Perhaps there's jealousy there after all…?"
"Don't be silly. You're a child."
"Obviously the Dark Lord doesn't see it that way."
Snape gave a small sigh. "What were you doing out tonight anyway?"
"What's that to you?" Draco crossed his arms. "I've already told you, I have nothing to say to you."
"I fear for you."
Draco gave a loud snort laugh. "You sound just like my mother. As I told her, I don't need protecting, I'm almost of age, and this was trusted to me, I don't need your help."
"Ah… Aunt Bellatrix has been teaching you Occlumency, I see. What thoughts are you trying to conceal from your master, Draco?"
"I'm not trying to conceal anything from him, I just don't want you butting in!"
"So that is why you have been avoiding me this term? You have feared my interference? You realize that, had anybody else failed to come to my office when I had told them repeatedly to be there, Draco —"
"So put me in detention! Report me to Dumbledore!" Draco jeered.
Snape said, "You know perfectly well that I do not wish to do either of those things."
"You'd better stop telling me to come to your office then!"
"Listen to me. I am trying to help you. I swore to your mother I would protect you. I made the Unbreakable Vow, Draco —"
"Looks like you'll have to break it, then, because I don't need your protection! It's my job, he gave it to me and I'm doing it, I've got a plan and it's going to work, it's just taking a bit longer than I thought it would!"
"What is your plan?"
"It's none of your business!"
"If you tell me what you are trying to do, I can assist you…"
"I have all the assistance I need, thanks, I'm not alone!"
"You were certainly alone tonight, which was foolish in the extreme, wandering the corridors without lookouts or backup, these are elementary mistakes—"
"I would've had Crabbe and Goyle with me if you hadn't put them in detention!"
"If your friends Crabbe and Goyle intend to pass their Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL this time around, they will need to work a little harder than they are doing at pres—"
"What does it matter? Defence Against the Dark Arts – it's all just a joke, isn't it, an act? Like any of us need protecting against the Dark Arts—"
"It is an act that is crucial to success, Draco!" said Snape. "Where do you think I would have been all these years, if I had not known how to act? Now listen to me! You are being incautious, wandering around at night, getting yourself caught, and if you are placing your reliance in assistants like Crabbe and Goyle—"
"They're not the only ones, I've got other people on my side, better people!"
"Then why not confide in me, and I can—"
"I know what you're up to! You want to steal my glory!"
There was another pause, then Snape said coldly, "You are speaking like a child. I quite understand that your fathers capture and imprisonment has upset you, but—"
Suddenly, more anger filled him, and he gave Snape one disgusted look, and then walked off, leaving his Head of House inside the dark, empty classroom.
The common room was messy and loud – everyone was preparing to leave for Christmas holidays, it was the last evening of the term and the following morning the majority of students would be going home to their families. The Slytherins were having a small party before parting over Christmas.
Pansy laughed and smiled all evening but her cheerfullness was shallow, for she could not stop thinking about when Draco had invited her to his home over Christmas, and every sweet thing he had said to her on her birthday. It had been empty words, she supposed.
For some reason she kept looking towards the entrance, hoping he'd show up. She didn't know why, because even if he did, she knew they would not speak. She just wanted to see him one last time before going home. Feeling like whatever it was he was doing, he might be dead when she came back to school. Thinking about how he'd invited her over to the manor, but instead she was sitting sipping on a Butterbeer, listening to the boys talking, with a holiday with her parents in front of her.
And finally he arrived and his blond head was the first thing she saw when her head was almost automatically jerked that way as soon as there was movement. Her heart jumped in her chest as she, laughing and sipping her bottle, locked glances with Draco by accident.
For a moment it felt like the two of them were the only ones in the room. He was paler than normal, with dark spots under his eyes. He looked ill, and like he didn't know how to smile anymore. His facial expression almost frightened her. He felt unfamiliar, yet at the same time, comfortable like a memory of one's childhood.
She hastily looked away and continued talking to the boys while Draco made his way through the common room, slipped down the stairs to the dormitory like a snake, and disappeared again.
