Draco Malfoy and his Unknown Fate:
Author's Notes: Okay… this gets a bit unsettling. But it's part of the plot and not just frivolous weirdness, so don't worry. I'd like some feedback on Dumbledore, if you've got the time. He's so hard to write! So, tell me how I did.
Warnings for this chapter: Oh boy. Mild swearing, I suppose. And. Er. Mentions of animal mutilation. Nothing graphic, but it's there nonetheless. The poor creatures! *weeps* I feel so bad, but that's just the way it worked out.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This will be slash (eventually). Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.
Draco had a habit of napping in his History of Magic class; in fact it got to the point where just entering the classroom had a soporific effect on him. However, he was a Slytherin and he wanted to pass the class so he used a Quick Quotes Quill set on 'accurate' instead of the 'propaganda' that Skeeter had hers on and let it faithfully record Binns' every word. Technically, he wasn't allowed to do that, but Binns wasn't exactly the most observant teacher around and if Draco actually tuned into his monotone lectures it made him feel like his brain was rotting. The fact it was one of the only classes the Slytherins had with Hufflepuffs only made it more tedious.
McGonagall cleared her throat, causing Draco's eyes to open. "Mr. Malfoy, the Headmaster requires your presence. Please come with me." Draco glanced to Binns who hadn't even paused in his boring lecture and then at the Deputy Headmistress who had pursed her lips in a thin, disapproving line. He gathered his things quickly, stuffing them in his bag and followed the Transfiguration teacher out of the class. A few curious students craned their necks to watch him leave and Pansy was biting her lip nervously, looking more worried than usual. He cast her a quick, reassuring smile before the door shut. The trip to the Headmaster's office was a quiet one.
They finally reached what appeared to be a stone gargoyle and McGonagall said the password in a dignified manner at direct odds with the ridiculousness of her words. "Peppermint Toad." They made their way up the staircase, the professor in the lead. Finally, they reached a door that McGonagall opened quickly before ushering Draco in. The Slytherin looked around him, impressed with the organized chaos of the room, not to mention the magical items scattered about so casually.
"Hello Mr. Malfoy. Please, take a seat." Draco did so, peering at the brilliant plumage of the sleeping phoenix perched in the corner. He smoothed his robes nervously as McGonagall exited the room with a purposeful air. Dumbledore looked unusually grim, the typical twinkle in his eyes no where to be found. Draco was forcibly reminded of the fact that this wizard was one of two people that Voldemort actually feared and that he'd defeated another Dark Lord in his prime. Draco felt an inkling of respect for the Headmaster and straightened his posture automatically.
"What can I help you with Headmaster?" He asked smoothly, wondering just what the bloody hell he was doing here. The last time he'd had a meeting with the Headmaster had been when he'd made a huge fuss about that hippogriff and even then he hadn't had to visit Dumbledore's office; they'd discussed the situation in Snape's office instead.
"I'd like to ask you a few questions. Where were you Saturday afternoon?"
"Practicing for Quidditch." Draco said uneasily. "I was out on the pitch until about…" He paused, thinking. "Maybe three and then I headed back for a bath."
"Mmmm." The Headmaster said, studying Draco inscrutably over the edge of his half moon spectacles. The portraits of previous Headmasters were critically scrutinizing the Slytherin, murmuring amongst themselves quietly.
"Am I in trouble?" Because it certainly seemed that way.
"Let me explain the situation. Last night Professor Sprout went into the Forbidden forest to collect Mooncalf dung. During her expedition, she found the bodies of three mooncalves, all of them horribly mutilated. The wards were undisturbed so the perpetrator was already on the Hogwarts grounds. We did find tracks leading back to the school, but none of them were fresh. Apparently, the poor creatures were dragged out of the burrows some time Saturday afternoon between the hours of two and four. Hagrid saw you near his cabin at three and the ghost of Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington saw you enter the castle at three forty five. That leaves you forty five minutes of free time unaccounted for."
"You think I did it?!" Draco said, outraged. "I acknowledge the fact I may not have the most pleasant of personalities, but I'm certainly not a sadistic animal torturer, either! And do you think I'm completely stupid? I would never enter the Forbidden Forest willingly! Seeing Voldemort killing a unicorn via exsanguination during detention with Hagrid at the age of eleven certainly put me off that idea, thank you very much." Dumbledore simply watched him rant on angrily, waving his arms about for emphasis, with what seemed to Draco a heartless amount of aplomb.
"Mr. Malfoy. Do you, or do you not, have an alibi?" Still feeling upset and now fairly embarrassed, Draco murmured something. "A bit louder, if you would."
"I was playing fetch with Fang and Lupin's mutt." He said sullenly and wasn't gratified in the least at Dumbledore's startled blinking. "Not that it's of any use because they certainly can't vouch for me, now can they?"
Dumbledore beamed at him, the twinkles suddenly reappearing. "That will do nicely, my boy. If you leave now you can make it just in time for Ancient Runes. Off you go! And take a lemon drop with you."
Draco left, lemon drop in hand, shaking his head as he made his way lightly down the stairs. "What an absolute nutter. He probably will ask Fang to vouch for me. And for a second there I honestly thought he wasn't as barmy as a blue banana." So much for that theory, he thought as he popped the sweet into his mouth.
To be Continued
Comments and constructive criticism are more than welcome.