The Polyjuice Potion- Take 2!!
Summary: Malfoy talks to Zabini
There were only a few people in the Slytherin common room Draco Malfoy noted as he leapt gracefully into his favourite chair opposite the fire, not paying any attention to Blaise Zabini sitting next to him. It was obvious to anyone watching that Zabini was sulking, and he grew irritated when Malfoy didn't seem to notice.
'So, how was Quidditch practice?' Zabini finally spat out as he continued to stare directly into the flames, a silvery-red wrapper drifting from his unclenched hand gently to the ground.
'Oh…pretty good,' Malfoy said airily. 'We had to share the pitch with the ruddy Griffindors though. But otherwise, good." A smile spread across his face. 'But the best part was seeing Weasley's face when I showed him the new brooms my father bought for the entire team!' He snorted. 'I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd fainted- that's probably the closest he's ever going to get to anything remotely that expensive.' He was about to tell Zabini about Ron's backfiring curse when the other boy spoke.
'You know Malfoy,' Zabini said in a cold voice, 'you're only on the team because of those brooms. It's not like you have any real talent or anything.'
Malfoy looked at him with an amused expression. 'You're just jealous because you're not on the team,' he said smugly.
Zabini fumed. It was true that he was jealous of Malfoy, not only because of his position in the game, but also of him being one of the smartest in the grade (although Hermione always managed to beat him), and Professor Snape obviously preferred him to anyone else in the class. Malfoy just seemed to have everything he wanted, and with his father being a prominent figure in the wizarding world, he was treated with a sort of fearful respect. It all seemed too easy for him, and Zabini told him so. 'You didn't do anything to get on the team. Malfoys never do anything. Everyone knows the Malfoys are just plain lazy,' he sneered. 'They have everything handed to them on a silver platter.'
Malfoy's smile faded. 'The Malfoys had to work very hard to get that "silver platter"- we deserve "everything" we have,' he said softly, narrowing his eyes. 'On the other hand, "everyone" knows the Zabinis only managed to climb the ranks of society by clinging onto high-profile families—like parasites—and hoping their…prosperity rubbed off on them,' he said, eyes glinting with malice.
Zabini glared at him in fury. He bit his tongue, barely restraining his anger. '…All I'm saying,' he finally managed to get out, 'is that life's too…effortless for you. You've got half the student population either scared of you or…no, that's it, just scared of you, whether its because of your well-known family name, or your oversized bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle…' He broke off and glanced around to see if the aforementioned Slytherins were listening, but he couldn't find them. Malfoy raised an eyebrow and Zabini continued.
'I mean, honestly, the only thing you have to worry about is whether Potter and his stupid friends will get into enough trouble!' Zabini stopped and calmed himself down. He shouldn't have said so much, he realised. He'd never revealed his feelings or thoughts to anybody, and he wasn't exactly sure why he'd done so just then.
Malfoy relaxed, running his thin fingers through his hair. "Hey, being Draco Malfoy isn't always as fun as that,' he smirked. 'I bet you after just an hour of being me, you'd be glad you're only Blaise Zabini.' He looked down condescendingly at Zabini.
Zabini had composed himself, and returned his face to its usual neutral state, hiding his abhorrence of the pale boy that sat next to him. 'I'll take you up on that bet Malfoy,' he said lightly. Malfoy laughed snidely.
'Really, Zabini, how exactly are you going to be me? Not only is your face so ugly no one could ever mistake you for me, but you'd be such a terrible Malfoy, my father would probably disown you!' Malfoy laughed again, but Zabini didn't get mad.
'Shut up Malfoy and listen...' He smirked, and Malfoy listened, albeit warily, as Zabini explained the details of their "bet".
