Unspoken
By: Resident Goddess
Rated: PG-13
CHAPTER 2
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its corresponding characters belong to JK Rowling and not I, this story does, however.
Summary: The summer before his 6th year Draco is punished for not taking the Dark Mark of Voldemort. Upon returning to school, the rest of the student body is surprised to see him mute. The Gryffindors see it as a blessing until they learn the real truth--now they'll do anything to get his voice back.
Beware--slash ahead…this chapter!
Thanks to: Tine, Adia, Shiann, Ne, Fanny-chan, The Slayer, Alex Destine, Burnein, F0xyness39, Random Slytherin 1, Darcel, Evil Child x2, Mike and KT for reviewing!!
Draco's thoughts: Italics
Writing: Bold
***
While Harry's mouth was busy dropping open in shock, Ron's surprisingly slack mouth was turning up into a smile of glee. As Harry watched, Ron closed his eyes tight and started jumping around into what Harry immediately recognized as Ron's 'happy dance'.
"He can't talk! He can't talk!" Ron was singing now, and Harry took a moment away from his surprise to look embarrassed, even though they were alone in the common room. "Oh the joys of simple things in life! Wait until we tell everyone…ha ha!" Ron was laughing mercilessly, and frankly, Harry was a bit worried about Ron's sanity.
Yes, the Gryffindors definitely would have a field day when they found out.
At that moment, the portrait hole swung open, and Hermione came in with a load of books in her hands. She nearly tripped on her robes as she made her way over to Harry and Ron, and looked exasperated when she finally threw her books down on the table. She 'huffed' loudly and sat down in a chair.
"While everyone is busy doing nothing," She glared at Ron who was still recovering from his mad cackle, and Harry whose eyes were still as wide of saucers, and continued. "I was getting some books from the library on advanced potions. Don't look at me like that, Harry, I know we all could use some studying." Hermione had mistaken Harry's look of shock over Malfoy for a look of shock over what she had just said. Harry didn't bother to correct her.
"Yeah, that's great, Herm." Ron said, absently twisting his wand in his right hand, "But I have plenty of knowledge that you just can't get from books."
"Really, Ron?" Hermione pretended to look interested. She was arranging the books on the table in front of her, and not paying attention in the slightest.
"Yes, really, Hermione." Ron was smirking now. Harry recognized the smirk and knew what was coming on. Ron had learned it from a young witch who was half his age, and was going to put it to good use on Hermione. "I know something you don't know!" He snorted with laughter, nearly falling back in his chair. Hermione looked at him with a raised eyebrow, he was holding his sides and rocking with laughter. By that time, Harry was still digesting what Ron had told him, and just watched the scene with blank eyes.
"Fine, what is it?" Hermione sighed, giving Ron her full attention. He crept forward in his chair, scooting it along the floor, until he was even with Hermione. He glanced at Harry, and behind a hand, said very loudly into Hermione's ear,
"Malfoy can't talk! Ha!"
***
It was very cold in the Slytherin Common Room. In fact, it was always cold in the Slytherin common room. Draco thought that it had something to do with the fact that it was so close to the lake, or maybe because it was in the dungeons. Whatever the reason, Draco didn't like it. He quite preferred the heat, and no matter what he did, there was no possible way to get warm in that common room. Unless, of course, you were to sit in the fire, but Draco figured that he had enough problems in his life, and he didn't need one more.
So, it didn't come as a huge surprise to him when he could see his breath inside the common room. The fire was burning brightly in the fireplace, and yet it was freezing. Crabbe and Goyle were huddled in a corner trying to play exploding snap (the operative word being 'trying'), and everyone else in the common room was busy doing nothing.
Bloody hell. No, hell is warm. If I could be warm I would go to hell. I hate the cold, I hate the cold. Stupid Slytherin, why couldn't he choose a reasonable spot for his common room? Blast that evil git!
Draco thought this was as good a time as ever to let the cat out of the bag about the curse. Now, the question was, what would he tell them happened. It would be incredibly stupid of him to come right out and say 'Oh yes, and by the way, my voice is gone because my evil-serving father cursed me. I wouldn't get the Dark Mark and follow Voldemort, so this is my punishment.'
He would probably be stripped down and thrown into the lake for the giant squid to mess around with. He didn't even want to think about what the squid would do to him…It was the servant of evil, the embodiment of all things inhuman. It would probably tickle him to death. Oh what a sad way to die.
Draco sighed and puffed himself up to his full height (which was a sad 5'7"), and stood up on one of the tables. No one looked up, and he suddenly realized that he had left his wand in his cloak that was thrown over one of the chairs. So he had to get off the table and retrieve it.
Ugh, bloody wand. Stupid curse. Damn Lucius.
When he finally got up on the table again, he had forgotten the story he was cooking up. So he did the next best thing. After shooting sparks out of his wand to get everyone's attention he put his plan into motion.
Excuse me, you gits. I am going to put this very simply so you can all understand it, because I know that some of you have trouble processing certain information. I have a speech impediment (that means that I can't talk, for those of you who don't understand big words) which hinders me from talking. So, I will be communicating this way from now on until I regain my voice. All clear? Good.
He climbed down. Some people shrugged and walked away, things like this were regulars in the common room. Someone was always hexing themselves or being hexed, and those few people didn't care. Others stared at him for a few minutes and then asked someone close to them what was going on. And a select pair (namely Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode) decided that they needed to ask questions, and express sympathy. Like he hadn't explained himself clearly!
Millicent's first move was to grab Draco by the arm and tell him her sympathies. Draco wrenched away from her and gave her a look that stated simply that he didn't care about her brother hexing his privates. She didn't get the picture.
"So we had to take him to the Ministry, and they had some serious questions about how he hexed--"
Draco was plugging his ears and backing away from her. She had stopped abruptly, and was looking at him with pity. Pansy however had cornered him against the wall and was staring at him intently.
"Who hexed you, Draco?" She asked. Draco snorted.
She thinks she's so smart. But I shall not be outsmarted! I am Draco Malfoy, the boy who was hexed by his stupid Death Eater of a father! And I will not be overcome!
My father.
Damn it! How did she find her way around my defenses??
"Oh, poor Dracy. Wouldn't take the Dark Mark and now has to pay."
Hey, this is not show-and-tell! Just where did you get that information, you fiend?
Bloody hell, who told you that intense fabrication of lies?
"Draco, you may think I'm a dimwit. In fact, I like being labeled someone who is extensively stupid, because it gives me power over everyone that no one knows I have. But please, let's look at the facts. Are my parents or are they not Death Eaters?"
"Ooh, ooh!" Millicent was waving her hand in the air in an excited manner. Pansy ignored her.
"Yes, I believe we all know the answer to that. So, you could say that I'm in the know."
Hmm. I find you repulsive. You are stupider then I thought. I'm feeling claustrophobic, please back away.
"Anyway, just thought that you should know that I know."
Yeah. Like that's going to be a problem for me. Oh no, the tiny and repulsive Pansy Parkinson has my number, better run!
Why thank you. My conscience is so relieved. I don't have to live a lie anymore!
He put on a mock-relieved look and slipped out from behind Pansy. He shivered compulsively and placed himself exactly in front of the fireplace, hoping that the fire would melt her if she got too close or…something.
It was then that Blaise Zabini walked through the door with a smug look on his face. He immediately located Draco and sat down like they were friends.
Ha. As if. If you don't stop stalking me, I'm going to hex you. Please obtain a two-foot perimeter around my body.
What are you so smug about?
"Ha ha. That stupid weasel, he got a week of detention. I got two nights." Blaise looked incredibly pleased with himself. Draco raised an eyebrow.
Amateur.
"Why, Draco. Are you cold?" Blaise said, raising an eyebrow of his own. Draco looked at him like he would look at a very young child.
What gave you that idea, Zabini?
"Nothing. You just appear to be shivering. Or it may be just the close proximity in which my body is to yours." He scooted closer and eyed Draco suggestively. Draco sighed.
Bloody hell. You are a nasty git, aren't you? Though I must say I'm not completely opposed to a snuggle, if it gets me warmer.
You're right, that must be it…Blaise. Draco rolled his eyes. Blaise chuckled and scooted a little closer, if that was possible. Draco eyed the space between them. He highly doubted that that was two feet, but he could be mistaken.
***
Hermione 'hmmed' and returned back to her books after hearing Ron's last statement.
"Well, aren't you going to say anything?" Ron asked, quite bewildered.
"Yes. Ron, before you sing your little 'I know something you don't know' song, you should make sure that the person who you claim doesn't know something really doesn't know it."
"Huh?"
"In other words, I already knew that."
"What?! How could you?" Ron was outraged. Harry merely watched the exchange with a mixture of excitement and amusement. Hermione had taken off her Prefect's badge and flashed it in Ron's face by that time and Ron was imitating a fish…a very red fish.
"I guess Malfoy's dad owled Dumbledore before school started. He wants us Prefects to know so we can sort out any discrepancies. Says he accidentally hexed himself, but I don't buy it."
"Why?" Ron asked, sitting down. Harry had moved from his armchair to join them at the table as well.
"Number one, Malfoy might be a great thundering prat, but he's not an idiot, not really. He's one of the top students in our year, and frankly, I doubt he would accidentally hex himself. Number two, a spell which causes laryngitis is very simple in nature but complex to cast. It would take a powerful wizard to do that to him."
"Yeah, but who would do that to Malfoy?" Harry said, "I mean, he's the son of the right-hand-man of Voldemort anyway, I'm surprised anyone would cross him, especially seeing who his father is."
"Who cares?" Ron said, "I mean, he's off our backs for the rest of the year--if we're lucky." Ron looked ready to let the subject drop, and was glaring at Hermione evilly.
"Yeah, but what if he did it doing something--"
"What, Harry?" Hermione was looking at him like he was on to something. Like she was thinking the same thing and just didn't want to say it.
"Noble? Right? I mean, what if Voldemort did it to him…or his father. I mean it makes sense." Harry blurted and his face reddened slightly, "If it was someone else, wouldn't his father just use a counter-spell?"
"You're right, Harry. And why hasn't Dumbledore used a counter-spell?" Hermione leaned forward and lowered her voice, "If Malfoy's dad did it to him, he could've told Dumbledore not to use a counter-spell. What if Malfoy's being punished?"
***
Draco cursed to himself. In fact, he even went through the mouthing motions as he dressed in his pajamas. He glanced around quickly to see that the dorm room was empty and threw open the green curtain to his bed with a growl.
If you make any moves on me, I'll hex you so you'll never see the sun again.
Blaise Zabini was stretched out on Draco's bed in a pair of plaid boxers with a sly smirk on his face. Draco wrinkled his nose. He could not believe what he would do just to get warm. He glanced around again. He hoped that no one walked in on them, he couldn't begin to imagine the rumors that spread. Not to mention the fact that he wouldn't be able to defend himself. Yeah, sure, he could spell it out, but somehow it didn't seem as effective. He missed his voice.
"Aren't you coming to bed…honey?"
Draco shot Blaise an evil glare and 'humphed' to himself. He could see that this was not going to be an easy tribulation…but it was getting cold standing on the stone floor and he willingly jumped into the bed and threw his blankets over his head. Maybe if he pretended that it wasn't Blaise in his bed, he wouldn't feel so guilty.
Bugger. Stupid git.
***
Ron snorted loudly, and leaned back in his chair.
"Yeah, right, like Malfoy would ever get punished for anything. You both are off your rockers. Lost your marbles, that's what you've gone and done."
"Ron, please." Hermione said, waving him off. "You know what would help, though? If we found out if the spell used was a dark one."
"How would we do that?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. To his left, Ron fell out of his chair.
"Every spell has a signature," Hermione said, "and we can look it up in the library, once we find out what the signature is."
"And let me guess, the only way we'll find out what the signature is is if we ask Malfoy himself, right?" Ron said from the floor. Hermione glared at him,
"No. I actually don't know how to find out the signature of a spell. There has to be some sort of spell that shows you the signature, but I don't know what it is." Hermione seemed to be pondering something, "But we could find that in the library."
"Why don't we just ask Malfoy who cast the spell on him?" Harry asked,
"And besides, why do we care? I mean, even if he is being punished, what does it matter? It's not like we're going to gain anything from getting Malfoy's voice back, except the unpleasant shouts and sneers and curses and…"
"Because, Ron! If we find out why Malfoy's being punished, then we might be able to turn him to our side!" Hermione looked like it had been sitting right there on the table the entire time. Which was ridiculous, of course, because all that was there was her potions books. "Because, let me ask you this, Ron. Do you really want another Lucius Malfoy?"
***
[End Chapter 2]
Announcements, announcements, announcements!
Okay, this is for everyone! I'm opening myself (er, that is to say…) to be a beta reader. That is, if you need a beta, then e-mail me, and I would be happy to beta read for you. My e-mail is kathleengrl@hotmail.com, in case you're wondering. I would also like to thank everyone for the reviews! Yay!
And to Evil Child about the descriptions: Yes, I can write descriptions. So far this story has called little for heavy-duty description work, and that is why it has been mostly dialogue. If you need to reference me on my description work, read Just Empty Desks and Broken Dreams, which is mostly description. (Insert shameless self-promotion here!) Anyway, I just thought I'd comment on that, but thanks for noticing.
I'm going to try to update this fic at least every week, if I can. This weekend I might get more done, since I don't have a soccer game or anything like that. Your reviews keep me going, please reviewwwww!
RG
PS: Happy Halloween!