Disclaimer: Much as I'd like to, I don't own Draco Malfoy, or any part of the magical world that J.K. Rowling has all the copyrights to ... please don't sue me. There are some parts of this story that are quotes from the book - it can't be helped - events are the same as in the book, but Draco's opinion of these events may vary from Harry's.
Author's Notes: I needed to do some re-writing, after reading OotP. I have made some minor changes to this chapter, mostly spelling and grammar.
Chapter 11 - Bah, Humbug
"You're leaving?" I asked sceptically.
"Uh huh." Theo replied, as I glared at his signature on the list for taking the train home, "I'm not staying here, with some freak-snake on a homicidal rampage."
"You're a pureblood." I told him, exasperated.
"So was Sir Nicholas." Theo said irritably.
"He was a Gryffindor ... and he was already dead." I noted, "You are a Slytherin and I have it on good authority that the monster will not be set on any pureblood, other than Squibs."
"You know too much." Theo snapped, "I'm going home, anyway."
"Gee, thanks. Leave me with Dumb and Dumber. I'll be bored senseless."
* * *
I was on my way to DADA class, minding my own business (plotting the downfall of Lockhart's last ounce of sanity), when I heard a yell - it was a Weasley twin, and he must have thought it was funny, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin!"
"Master of the Chamber of Secrets, coming through!"
"Majorly evil dude, on the rampage!"
At this point, they rounded a corner and one of the twins nearly bumped into me. I snarled at the offending Weasley, "You flatter me."
"We weren't talking about you, Malfoy." the other twin snapped.
"No? I don't see your pet Parselmouth doing anything evil, while I most definitely am." I said, grinning.
"What might that be?" the twin I'd nearly bumped into asked.
"Is that an admission of guilt, I hear?" the other one added.
"No." I said quickly, "It's just that we Slytherins are always up to something ... I already told you two, I'm not the Heir. The chances of me being Slytherin's Heir are on a par with the chances of Lockhart announcing his engagement to Snape."
Both of them forced down the threatening laughter at that, purely because I was the one who had made the joke. Just then, Potter rounded the corner, trying not to be noticed while still sniggering at the twins' idea of a joke. One of the twins immediately resumed their game by saying, "Move it or lose it, Malfoy."
The other twin joined in with, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure you count as an enemy, to Harry."
I gave both of them a vicious glare, careful not to look at Potter who was trying not to laugh.
Then, to add injury to insult, Cat and Blaise bumped into me from behind, "What's going on?" Blaise asked.
Before I could answer, a Weasley twin replied, "Malfoy's getting in the way. Better watch out, there, wannabie."
I opened my moth to retort, but decided against it. I'd either incriminate myself or make a fool of myself.
The other twin then added, "Yeah, it'd look real bad if Malfoy got himself petrified, when he's supposed to be a pureblood." the way he emphasised the words 'supposed to be' ... I felt ready to kill him.
"Oh, don't!" Weaslette, who had appeared from behind her brothers, yelled, "How can you think this is funny?"
"Good question, kid." Cat noted.
"It's not like Potter's the only Parselmouth this century." Theo added, stepping up beside me.
One Weasley twin started sniggering and pointing at Theo's now-blonde hair, which exactly matched Blaise's. I could hear Theo muttering, "I'm never going to live this down, I just hope it doesn't grow back black-and-white again".
The other twin immediately asked, "Who else?"
"Duh." I said, shoving past them all, and the other Slytherins followed me.
* * *
During that DADA class, there were many notes passed. Those that I received were:
'Draco - sorry for thinking you were it. The attack during Transfiguration proves you're innocent. -Cat ... and Blaise'
'Draco - what do those twins think they're playing at? They're only making more people believe Potter's it. -Theo'
To which I replied, 'Theo - they're making a joke out of it ... you do know what a joke is, right? -Draco'
and finally:
'Draco - what's with all the note passing? What's up? Can I join in? -Pansy'
Lockhart didn't even notice.
I managed to scare the man, again, though - he didn't seem ready to believe that there was any danger - he claimed that he had scared off the attacker, personally, and there would be no more attacks.
My response to this was, every five minutes, "Look out, Professor - the monster's behind you!"
He fell for it every bloody time!
* * *
And so, Christmas holidays began. Hermione wasn't the only Mudblood staying over, either. There was a Ravenclaw prefect, named Clearwater, hanging around as well. She seemed to be sneaking around the castle on her own, a lot. Odd, considering the danger involved. Prefect-Weasley seemed to be snooping around, too - probably thought he'd catch the Heir of Slytherin ... he's looking in the wrong place - the best place to hide something is in plain sight, and little Weaslette couldn't be missed if she tried - still, no one's even guessed it's her. Of course, not too many Slytherins went home - they weren't all as afraid of their own house's Heir as Theo seemed to be ... the Slytherin-Mudblood pulled a successful disappearing act on the day the train left, though (as in he took said train all the way back to London).
Still, I spent the time, or most of it, reading. The rest of the time, I had to keep reminding Crabbe and Goyle which way the common room was, when they were out - every other day, I'd find them lost. I don't know how they manage during the term.
I walked into the dorm on Christmas Eve, to find them talking, "But it's got to be someone who's still here?" Crabbe asked. Goyle shrugged dumbly.
"What're you two talking about?" I asked suspiciously.
"We're trying to find out who the Heir is." Crabbe (the smarter of the two, but that's not saying much) said.
"Do you know who it is?" Goyle asked.
I frowned. "I told you at Halloween ... and last week ... and two days ago." I said coldly, "Is your memory that bad? You might want to steal Longbottom's Rememberall." I received a blank look, so, with an exasperated sigh, I told him again, "I don't know who it is. If I did, I'd point them in Granger's direction. Now, I want to get some sleep, so stop talking so loudly."
* * *
The next day, I was woken at five in the morning, by Crabbe and Goyle, who had discovered their Christmas presents. I glanced at my own pile of presents at the foot of my bed, and decided not to leave them unguarded, therefore I got up and started looking at them.
Nothing particularly interesting, so I locked them all in my trunk, cast silencing spells around my bed, and went back to sleep.
I woke again, at lunchtime, and tried to keep out of everyone's way, that day. Christmas? Bah, Humbug. I don't know, really - I was just in a bad mood - I get these bad moods when anyone wakes me at five in the morning ... five in the morning is supposed to be a time of night before you go to sleep, not a time of morning at which anyone should be woken.
On the way to the Great Hall, I bumped into Weaslette ... this time the intended-to-be-scary look she gave me really did creep me out - she glared at me in such a way that it could even make Snape run screaming with his metaphorical tail between his legs. I skirted around her and made good time towards the Feast.
I can't believe the Twitly Two, though - they were already on their third helpings of turkey-dinner when I arrived at the Feast, and I don't know how anyone could eat that much - a whole army would eat less in a day, than those two ate in one sitting. Christmas is never a good time for me.
"Hey, Draco." one of the third years said, offering me a Christmas Cracker to pull.
"Bah, Humbug." I snarled irritably.
"Spoil-sport." he said.
"Thank you." I replied, taking the insult as a compliment - something I have found irritates people even more than actually giving them an insult.
"Weasley alert." Cat said - she was the only Slytherin girl in my year to stay for the holidays. And sure enough, the four redheads known as the Weasley-boys entered the Hall. The twins were still playing body-guard for Potter (who was wearing a Weasley jumper), and their Prefect brother was still telling them off ... albeit in a less anal manner, seeing as it's Christmas.
Bah, humbug ... and did I happen to mention - Bah, Humbug?
"I thought those cheap, tatty jumpers were reserved for poor red-haired losers?" I asked loudly, with the intent of being heard at the Gryffindor table. If I didn't enjoy Christmas, I was damned well going to try to ruin it for everyone else, too.
Nothing. He ignored me. He bloody well ignored me! Now, that really takes the Christmas cake. I stood up and left, as soon as I had eaten the minimal requirement of said cake (trying not to be sick - any bread-product with dried fruit mixed into it makes me feel nauseous ... and watching those two idiots' idea of eating does not help).
On my way back down to the common room, I spotted the Ravenclaw I told you about - Clearwater, I think her name was - sneaking into a disused dungeon classroom. Being the Slytherin I am, I decided to be nosey. Bad idea. I did not need to see that. I ran all the way back to the common room, before making a vomiting noise. Prefect-Weasley had a girlfriend ... and I was going to be sick, after all the effort I'd put into eating that disgusting cake.
Christmas has never been one of my favourite holidays ... I might even go so far as to say that it was my least favourite. I will repeat - Bah, Humbug!
The highlight of my day had to be when Noctowl brought me an envelope from my father ... it contained the funniest thing I'd seen in weeks (and that includes Lockhart's face when I told him the Monster of Slytherin was right behind him ... ten times in a row). A clipping from the Daily Prophet:
'ENQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office,
was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.
Mr Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier
this year, called today for Mr Weasley's resignation.
"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr
Malfoy told our reporter, "He is unfit to draw up our
laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped
immediately."
Mr Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his
wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul
on them.'
Good - maybe he'd get fired, and the stupid raids might stop. The letter that came with the clipping wasn't so good - Father wrote that our Manor had been raided last week. Thankfully, they didn't find much - he had been tipped off about it, beforehand, and all the particularly dangerous contraband in our dungeon had been stashed under the drawing room.
* * *
Half an hour later, I decided that the Dim-witted Duet must have gotten themselves lost again. I growled, deciding that I would be better off staying home, next year. If those two were still in the Great Hall, stuffing their faces, I'd kill them - I swear it.
Luckily for them, they were actually lost, again ... now I'd just call them stupid names and they wouldn't understand the fact that it was an insult. "There you are! Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time?" I asked, "I've been looking for you, I want to show you something really funny." then spotted the Weasley-prefect ... I felt sick, on remembering exactly what I'd seen, but decided to get over it by insulting the source of the problem, "And what're you doing down here, Weasley?"
"You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect! I don't like your attitude!" Weasley snapped angrily.
Yeah, right - I'll respect him when Hades rides a snowplow to work. I gave him a glare that says just that, and beckoned the Brainless Boys to follow me. "That Peter Weasley -"
"Percy." Crabbe corrected. Since when did Crabbe have a memory that would extend to Weasleys' first names? Oh, well.
"Whatever. I've noticed him sneaking around a lot lately." I said, deciding to keep the Weasley-prefect's real reasons for sneaking around, for blackmail, and tell these two my original theory, "And I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he's going to catch Slytherin's Heir single-handed." I snorted at the thought that if he was going after the Heir, he'd have to do it single-handed, considering where he had one of his hands ... no - I don't want to revive the memory - I was trying to repress it. I stopped outside the common room, "What's the new password, again?" I asked, not particularly thinking straight, but then I remembered it, "Oh, yeah - Pureblood." I said to the wall. I re-entered the common room and re-claimed my usual seat. The few Slytherins that looked up to see who was there turned away with mutterings of "Scrooge" and "Grinch" ... excellent - I had gotten my point across that I DON'T LIKE CHRISTMAS.
"Wait here." I ordered, pointing to the chairs they usually occupy - you know those are their chairs because of the dents in them. "I'll go and get it - my father's just sent it to me." I returned to the dorm and picked up the envelope, thought about it for a second, then took the newspaper cutting out, stashing the letter and envelope in my trunk.
I returned to the common room, to see the Brainless Boys looking around gormlessly - I still find it hard to believe that anyone can be that stupid - they looked like they'd never seen the common room, before.
"That'll give you a laugh." I said, as I handed the cutting to Crabbe, who laughed weakly and handed it to Goyle. Goyle gave it back to me, also giving me a blank look to go with it. "Well? Don't you think it's funny?" I asked. Goyle laughed, also sounding as blank as he usually looked. I shrugged off their idiocy in favour of degrading the Weasley name. "Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go join them. You'd never know the Weasleys were purebloods, the way they behave." Crabbe scowled, as if I'd just insulted HIS family. "What's up with you, Crabbe?" I asked.
After the usual two-or-three seconds it takes either of them to process and answer any question, Crabbe replied, "Stomach ache."
"Well, go up to the Hospital Wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick for me." I said (specifically Creepy), "You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet. I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent Headmaster would never've let slime that Creevy in." The little brat was horrible - I couldn't understand if a Muggle school would let him in, let alone a real school like Hogwarts. I proceeded to perform a deliberately terrible impersonation of Creepy, "Potter, can I have your picture? Potter, can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potter?" I stopped and stared at them. They were behaving even dumber than normal, and that really is saying something. "What's the matter with you two?"
They both laughed with the same lack of conviction they had earlier. I wondered if they might have managed to get their hands on something alcoholic, or narcotic, at Christmas dinner. Still, even if they were on something, I really oughtn't to let my guard down.
"Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend. He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped-up Granger Mudblood." I said, knowing perfectly well exactly how hypocritical that was, but I've already freely admitted to being a hypocrite, so who cares? It sounded good and I know it's what those two want to hear (if they have enough brain-power to want anything beyond abusing the sin of gluttony). "And people think he's Slytherin's Heir!" Now, to go straight to full-fledged lying - they'll never spot the difference. I turned slightly away from them, so neither would notice the signs, even if they had the intelligence - when I lie, I do it properly, "I wish I knew who it is. I could help them." yeah, when Snape decides to adopt a Weasley.
Goyle then asked, "You must have some idea who's behind it all?" it's strange enough for Goyle to speak up, like that, but for the five times in a row that he does to be the same bloody question is just so annoying.
"You know I haven't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?" I asked, picking up a small wrapped object that had been sitting behind me, where the two idiots couldn't see it, looking around to see that no one was watching (except Stupid and Stupider, of course, but they don't count) and pocketing it. "And Father won't even tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened, either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it." what I'm telling these two, my father actually did tell me, but I'm not spilling the beans on anything I know, that Father didn't say, "But I know one thing: last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's only a matter of time." I paused, deciding I'd already lied enough that I may as well go for the money-shot, "I hope it's Granger." I finished, pulling the evil-homicidal look that I had picked up from my father.
Goyle decided to act like he had a brain, today, asking, "D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?" I glanced at him, wondering what was wrong with him - Goyle is even stupider than Crabbe, and he's never asked two intelligent questions in a row that weren't related to food.
Still, father had told me that someone had been framed and expelled for the last opening of the Chamber of Secrets, so I may as well tell them this, "Oh, yeah ... whoever it was was expelled. They're probably still in Azkaban."
"Azkaban?" Goyle asked. Now that's the Goyle I remember - brain capacity of a troll, and a shorter memory-span.
"Azkaban - the wizard prison, Goyle. Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backwards." I turned round, to watch them carefully, while not looking like I was, "Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it." sensible advice, except the part where I don't want Snake-face to get his way, if I can avoid it. "Of course," I said, changing the subject, "he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our Manor last week?" Goyle actually reacted ... in a way that could resemble sympathy or concern - something was not right with that picture. I decided to ignore it, for now. "Yeah. Luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor -"
I was interrupted by Crabbe yelling. I looked at him, frowning. The lighting in here shouldn't make his hair change colour. He suddenly exclaimed, "Medicine for my stomach." and both of them bolted for the exit. I'd swear they were shrinking.
I stood up and walked slowly across the room, to where Cat was playing chess with the third year I'd pissed off at dinner. "Cat - did you see Clueless and Gormless there?"
"Nope. They weren't here." she said, looking up at me.
"Are you dense, Cat?" the third-year asked, "They just ran out like there was a dragon on their tails."
"I saw neither Crabbe nor Goyle, in this room, since before lunch, Mark." Cat said, glaring at the third-year and daring him to argue.
"They were just here!" I snapped, "And they were acting ... well first slower than usual, then Goyle acted smarter than Crabbe, then they ran off for no sensible reason - have you ever known Crabbe to get indigestion?"
"I told you, I didn't see them." Cat repeated.
"Then who was I just talking to?" I asked irritably.
"Not them." Cat said simply.
"That's ridiculous!" I snapped, "It looked a Hell of a lot like them, to me!"
Cat sighed, "Looks can be deceiving, if you are believing what you are perceiving." she said, smirking, "They had stronger, lighter auras than Crabbe and Goyle - it couldn't have been them."
"You can read auras?" I asked, stunned, "You really are a Seer, then."
"Uh huh." Cat said, not looking at me, "I can't read them all the time - just occasionally - but I know what your two thugs read as, and those weren't them."
"So who were they?" I asked.
"Don't know - never seen those auras before, but like I said, I can't see them all the time." Cat said, returning to her game, to kill off one of the third-year's knights with her queen.
I decided this was worth investigating, and left the common room, in search of my 'thugs' as Cat called them. As I reached the Entrance Hall, I heard noises from inside the cupboard - what sounded like shouts of "Let us out!" I wandered over to said cupboard, idly, and looked down to see two pairs of shoes that could only be Crabbe and Goyle's - no one else would ever wear those.
I smirked, wondering how they were going to explain this. I took out my wand and muttered, "Alohomora." the door opened and Crabbe and Goyle fell out. "Right - how long have you two been in there, and what the hell is going on?" I asked.
"We don't know." Goyle said.
"Last thing I remember, we saw these chocolate cakes lying over there -" Crabbe said, pointing to the marble staircase "- then we were locked in here and someone had swiped our shoes."
I pointed to the two pairs of footwear on the ground, and then asked, "How long have you been in there?" I repeated.
"Dunno." Goyle said daftly.
Crabbe, meanwhile, had just about enough presence of mind to look at his watch, and said, "Hour and a half ... that big hand's the minutes, right?"
"Yes." I sighed, realising that Cat had been right ... so who had I been talking to?
* * *
End of chapter 11
Author's Notes: I needed to do some re-writing, after reading OotP. I have made some minor changes to this chapter, mostly spelling and grammar.
Chapter 11 - Bah, Humbug
"You're leaving?" I asked sceptically.
"Uh huh." Theo replied, as I glared at his signature on the list for taking the train home, "I'm not staying here, with some freak-snake on a homicidal rampage."
"You're a pureblood." I told him, exasperated.
"So was Sir Nicholas." Theo said irritably.
"He was a Gryffindor ... and he was already dead." I noted, "You are a Slytherin and I have it on good authority that the monster will not be set on any pureblood, other than Squibs."
"You know too much." Theo snapped, "I'm going home, anyway."
"Gee, thanks. Leave me with Dumb and Dumber. I'll be bored senseless."
* * *
I was on my way to DADA class, minding my own business (plotting the downfall of Lockhart's last ounce of sanity), when I heard a yell - it was a Weasley twin, and he must have thought it was funny, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin!"
"Master of the Chamber of Secrets, coming through!"
"Majorly evil dude, on the rampage!"
At this point, they rounded a corner and one of the twins nearly bumped into me. I snarled at the offending Weasley, "You flatter me."
"We weren't talking about you, Malfoy." the other twin snapped.
"No? I don't see your pet Parselmouth doing anything evil, while I most definitely am." I said, grinning.
"What might that be?" the twin I'd nearly bumped into asked.
"Is that an admission of guilt, I hear?" the other one added.
"No." I said quickly, "It's just that we Slytherins are always up to something ... I already told you two, I'm not the Heir. The chances of me being Slytherin's Heir are on a par with the chances of Lockhart announcing his engagement to Snape."
Both of them forced down the threatening laughter at that, purely because I was the one who had made the joke. Just then, Potter rounded the corner, trying not to be noticed while still sniggering at the twins' idea of a joke. One of the twins immediately resumed their game by saying, "Move it or lose it, Malfoy."
The other twin joined in with, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure you count as an enemy, to Harry."
I gave both of them a vicious glare, careful not to look at Potter who was trying not to laugh.
Then, to add injury to insult, Cat and Blaise bumped into me from behind, "What's going on?" Blaise asked.
Before I could answer, a Weasley twin replied, "Malfoy's getting in the way. Better watch out, there, wannabie."
I opened my moth to retort, but decided against it. I'd either incriminate myself or make a fool of myself.
The other twin then added, "Yeah, it'd look real bad if Malfoy got himself petrified, when he's supposed to be a pureblood." the way he emphasised the words 'supposed to be' ... I felt ready to kill him.
"Oh, don't!" Weaslette, who had appeared from behind her brothers, yelled, "How can you think this is funny?"
"Good question, kid." Cat noted.
"It's not like Potter's the only Parselmouth this century." Theo added, stepping up beside me.
One Weasley twin started sniggering and pointing at Theo's now-blonde hair, which exactly matched Blaise's. I could hear Theo muttering, "I'm never going to live this down, I just hope it doesn't grow back black-and-white again".
The other twin immediately asked, "Who else?"
"Duh." I said, shoving past them all, and the other Slytherins followed me.
* * *
During that DADA class, there were many notes passed. Those that I received were:
'Draco - sorry for thinking you were it. The attack during Transfiguration proves you're innocent. -Cat ... and Blaise'
'Draco - what do those twins think they're playing at? They're only making more people believe Potter's it. -Theo'
To which I replied, 'Theo - they're making a joke out of it ... you do know what a joke is, right? -Draco'
and finally:
'Draco - what's with all the note passing? What's up? Can I join in? -Pansy'
Lockhart didn't even notice.
I managed to scare the man, again, though - he didn't seem ready to believe that there was any danger - he claimed that he had scared off the attacker, personally, and there would be no more attacks.
My response to this was, every five minutes, "Look out, Professor - the monster's behind you!"
He fell for it every bloody time!
* * *
And so, Christmas holidays began. Hermione wasn't the only Mudblood staying over, either. There was a Ravenclaw prefect, named Clearwater, hanging around as well. She seemed to be sneaking around the castle on her own, a lot. Odd, considering the danger involved. Prefect-Weasley seemed to be snooping around, too - probably thought he'd catch the Heir of Slytherin ... he's looking in the wrong place - the best place to hide something is in plain sight, and little Weaslette couldn't be missed if she tried - still, no one's even guessed it's her. Of course, not too many Slytherins went home - they weren't all as afraid of their own house's Heir as Theo seemed to be ... the Slytherin-Mudblood pulled a successful disappearing act on the day the train left, though (as in he took said train all the way back to London).
Still, I spent the time, or most of it, reading. The rest of the time, I had to keep reminding Crabbe and Goyle which way the common room was, when they were out - every other day, I'd find them lost. I don't know how they manage during the term.
I walked into the dorm on Christmas Eve, to find them talking, "But it's got to be someone who's still here?" Crabbe asked. Goyle shrugged dumbly.
"What're you two talking about?" I asked suspiciously.
"We're trying to find out who the Heir is." Crabbe (the smarter of the two, but that's not saying much) said.
"Do you know who it is?" Goyle asked.
I frowned. "I told you at Halloween ... and last week ... and two days ago." I said coldly, "Is your memory that bad? You might want to steal Longbottom's Rememberall." I received a blank look, so, with an exasperated sigh, I told him again, "I don't know who it is. If I did, I'd point them in Granger's direction. Now, I want to get some sleep, so stop talking so loudly."
* * *
The next day, I was woken at five in the morning, by Crabbe and Goyle, who had discovered their Christmas presents. I glanced at my own pile of presents at the foot of my bed, and decided not to leave them unguarded, therefore I got up and started looking at them.
Nothing particularly interesting, so I locked them all in my trunk, cast silencing spells around my bed, and went back to sleep.
I woke again, at lunchtime, and tried to keep out of everyone's way, that day. Christmas? Bah, Humbug. I don't know, really - I was just in a bad mood - I get these bad moods when anyone wakes me at five in the morning ... five in the morning is supposed to be a time of night before you go to sleep, not a time of morning at which anyone should be woken.
On the way to the Great Hall, I bumped into Weaslette ... this time the intended-to-be-scary look she gave me really did creep me out - she glared at me in such a way that it could even make Snape run screaming with his metaphorical tail between his legs. I skirted around her and made good time towards the Feast.
I can't believe the Twitly Two, though - they were already on their third helpings of turkey-dinner when I arrived at the Feast, and I don't know how anyone could eat that much - a whole army would eat less in a day, than those two ate in one sitting. Christmas is never a good time for me.
"Hey, Draco." one of the third years said, offering me a Christmas Cracker to pull.
"Bah, Humbug." I snarled irritably.
"Spoil-sport." he said.
"Thank you." I replied, taking the insult as a compliment - something I have found irritates people even more than actually giving them an insult.
"Weasley alert." Cat said - she was the only Slytherin girl in my year to stay for the holidays. And sure enough, the four redheads known as the Weasley-boys entered the Hall. The twins were still playing body-guard for Potter (who was wearing a Weasley jumper), and their Prefect brother was still telling them off ... albeit in a less anal manner, seeing as it's Christmas.
Bah, humbug ... and did I happen to mention - Bah, Humbug?
"I thought those cheap, tatty jumpers were reserved for poor red-haired losers?" I asked loudly, with the intent of being heard at the Gryffindor table. If I didn't enjoy Christmas, I was damned well going to try to ruin it for everyone else, too.
Nothing. He ignored me. He bloody well ignored me! Now, that really takes the Christmas cake. I stood up and left, as soon as I had eaten the minimal requirement of said cake (trying not to be sick - any bread-product with dried fruit mixed into it makes me feel nauseous ... and watching those two idiots' idea of eating does not help).
On my way back down to the common room, I spotted the Ravenclaw I told you about - Clearwater, I think her name was - sneaking into a disused dungeon classroom. Being the Slytherin I am, I decided to be nosey. Bad idea. I did not need to see that. I ran all the way back to the common room, before making a vomiting noise. Prefect-Weasley had a girlfriend ... and I was going to be sick, after all the effort I'd put into eating that disgusting cake.
Christmas has never been one of my favourite holidays ... I might even go so far as to say that it was my least favourite. I will repeat - Bah, Humbug!
The highlight of my day had to be when Noctowl brought me an envelope from my father ... it contained the funniest thing I'd seen in weeks (and that includes Lockhart's face when I told him the Monster of Slytherin was right behind him ... ten times in a row). A clipping from the Daily Prophet:
'ENQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office,
was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.
Mr Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier
this year, called today for Mr Weasley's resignation.
"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr
Malfoy told our reporter, "He is unfit to draw up our
laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped
immediately."
Mr Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his
wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul
on them.'
Good - maybe he'd get fired, and the stupid raids might stop. The letter that came with the clipping wasn't so good - Father wrote that our Manor had been raided last week. Thankfully, they didn't find much - he had been tipped off about it, beforehand, and all the particularly dangerous contraband in our dungeon had been stashed under the drawing room.
* * *
Half an hour later, I decided that the Dim-witted Duet must have gotten themselves lost again. I growled, deciding that I would be better off staying home, next year. If those two were still in the Great Hall, stuffing their faces, I'd kill them - I swear it.
Luckily for them, they were actually lost, again ... now I'd just call them stupid names and they wouldn't understand the fact that it was an insult. "There you are! Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time?" I asked, "I've been looking for you, I want to show you something really funny." then spotted the Weasley-prefect ... I felt sick, on remembering exactly what I'd seen, but decided to get over it by insulting the source of the problem, "And what're you doing down here, Weasley?"
"You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect! I don't like your attitude!" Weasley snapped angrily.
Yeah, right - I'll respect him when Hades rides a snowplow to work. I gave him a glare that says just that, and beckoned the Brainless Boys to follow me. "That Peter Weasley -"
"Percy." Crabbe corrected. Since when did Crabbe have a memory that would extend to Weasleys' first names? Oh, well.
"Whatever. I've noticed him sneaking around a lot lately." I said, deciding to keep the Weasley-prefect's real reasons for sneaking around, for blackmail, and tell these two my original theory, "And I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he's going to catch Slytherin's Heir single-handed." I snorted at the thought that if he was going after the Heir, he'd have to do it single-handed, considering where he had one of his hands ... no - I don't want to revive the memory - I was trying to repress it. I stopped outside the common room, "What's the new password, again?" I asked, not particularly thinking straight, but then I remembered it, "Oh, yeah - Pureblood." I said to the wall. I re-entered the common room and re-claimed my usual seat. The few Slytherins that looked up to see who was there turned away with mutterings of "Scrooge" and "Grinch" ... excellent - I had gotten my point across that I DON'T LIKE CHRISTMAS.
"Wait here." I ordered, pointing to the chairs they usually occupy - you know those are their chairs because of the dents in them. "I'll go and get it - my father's just sent it to me." I returned to the dorm and picked up the envelope, thought about it for a second, then took the newspaper cutting out, stashing the letter and envelope in my trunk.
I returned to the common room, to see the Brainless Boys looking around gormlessly - I still find it hard to believe that anyone can be that stupid - they looked like they'd never seen the common room, before.
"That'll give you a laugh." I said, as I handed the cutting to Crabbe, who laughed weakly and handed it to Goyle. Goyle gave it back to me, also giving me a blank look to go with it. "Well? Don't you think it's funny?" I asked. Goyle laughed, also sounding as blank as he usually looked. I shrugged off their idiocy in favour of degrading the Weasley name. "Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go join them. You'd never know the Weasleys were purebloods, the way they behave." Crabbe scowled, as if I'd just insulted HIS family. "What's up with you, Crabbe?" I asked.
After the usual two-or-three seconds it takes either of them to process and answer any question, Crabbe replied, "Stomach ache."
"Well, go up to the Hospital Wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick for me." I said (specifically Creepy), "You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet. I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent Headmaster would never've let slime that Creevy in." The little brat was horrible - I couldn't understand if a Muggle school would let him in, let alone a real school like Hogwarts. I proceeded to perform a deliberately terrible impersonation of Creepy, "Potter, can I have your picture? Potter, can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potter?" I stopped and stared at them. They were behaving even dumber than normal, and that really is saying something. "What's the matter with you two?"
They both laughed with the same lack of conviction they had earlier. I wondered if they might have managed to get their hands on something alcoholic, or narcotic, at Christmas dinner. Still, even if they were on something, I really oughtn't to let my guard down.
"Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend. He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped-up Granger Mudblood." I said, knowing perfectly well exactly how hypocritical that was, but I've already freely admitted to being a hypocrite, so who cares? It sounded good and I know it's what those two want to hear (if they have enough brain-power to want anything beyond abusing the sin of gluttony). "And people think he's Slytherin's Heir!" Now, to go straight to full-fledged lying - they'll never spot the difference. I turned slightly away from them, so neither would notice the signs, even if they had the intelligence - when I lie, I do it properly, "I wish I knew who it is. I could help them." yeah, when Snape decides to adopt a Weasley.
Goyle then asked, "You must have some idea who's behind it all?" it's strange enough for Goyle to speak up, like that, but for the five times in a row that he does to be the same bloody question is just so annoying.
"You know I haven't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?" I asked, picking up a small wrapped object that had been sitting behind me, where the two idiots couldn't see it, looking around to see that no one was watching (except Stupid and Stupider, of course, but they don't count) and pocketing it. "And Father won't even tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened, either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it." what I'm telling these two, my father actually did tell me, but I'm not spilling the beans on anything I know, that Father didn't say, "But I know one thing: last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's only a matter of time." I paused, deciding I'd already lied enough that I may as well go for the money-shot, "I hope it's Granger." I finished, pulling the evil-homicidal look that I had picked up from my father.
Goyle decided to act like he had a brain, today, asking, "D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?" I glanced at him, wondering what was wrong with him - Goyle is even stupider than Crabbe, and he's never asked two intelligent questions in a row that weren't related to food.
Still, father had told me that someone had been framed and expelled for the last opening of the Chamber of Secrets, so I may as well tell them this, "Oh, yeah ... whoever it was was expelled. They're probably still in Azkaban."
"Azkaban?" Goyle asked. Now that's the Goyle I remember - brain capacity of a troll, and a shorter memory-span.
"Azkaban - the wizard prison, Goyle. Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backwards." I turned round, to watch them carefully, while not looking like I was, "Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it." sensible advice, except the part where I don't want Snake-face to get his way, if I can avoid it. "Of course," I said, changing the subject, "he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our Manor last week?" Goyle actually reacted ... in a way that could resemble sympathy or concern - something was not right with that picture. I decided to ignore it, for now. "Yeah. Luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor -"
I was interrupted by Crabbe yelling. I looked at him, frowning. The lighting in here shouldn't make his hair change colour. He suddenly exclaimed, "Medicine for my stomach." and both of them bolted for the exit. I'd swear they were shrinking.
I stood up and walked slowly across the room, to where Cat was playing chess with the third year I'd pissed off at dinner. "Cat - did you see Clueless and Gormless there?"
"Nope. They weren't here." she said, looking up at me.
"Are you dense, Cat?" the third-year asked, "They just ran out like there was a dragon on their tails."
"I saw neither Crabbe nor Goyle, in this room, since before lunch, Mark." Cat said, glaring at the third-year and daring him to argue.
"They were just here!" I snapped, "And they were acting ... well first slower than usual, then Goyle acted smarter than Crabbe, then they ran off for no sensible reason - have you ever known Crabbe to get indigestion?"
"I told you, I didn't see them." Cat repeated.
"Then who was I just talking to?" I asked irritably.
"Not them." Cat said simply.
"That's ridiculous!" I snapped, "It looked a Hell of a lot like them, to me!"
Cat sighed, "Looks can be deceiving, if you are believing what you are perceiving." she said, smirking, "They had stronger, lighter auras than Crabbe and Goyle - it couldn't have been them."
"You can read auras?" I asked, stunned, "You really are a Seer, then."
"Uh huh." Cat said, not looking at me, "I can't read them all the time - just occasionally - but I know what your two thugs read as, and those weren't them."
"So who were they?" I asked.
"Don't know - never seen those auras before, but like I said, I can't see them all the time." Cat said, returning to her game, to kill off one of the third-year's knights with her queen.
I decided this was worth investigating, and left the common room, in search of my 'thugs' as Cat called them. As I reached the Entrance Hall, I heard noises from inside the cupboard - what sounded like shouts of "Let us out!" I wandered over to said cupboard, idly, and looked down to see two pairs of shoes that could only be Crabbe and Goyle's - no one else would ever wear those.
I smirked, wondering how they were going to explain this. I took out my wand and muttered, "Alohomora." the door opened and Crabbe and Goyle fell out. "Right - how long have you two been in there, and what the hell is going on?" I asked.
"We don't know." Goyle said.
"Last thing I remember, we saw these chocolate cakes lying over there -" Crabbe said, pointing to the marble staircase "- then we were locked in here and someone had swiped our shoes."
I pointed to the two pairs of footwear on the ground, and then asked, "How long have you been in there?" I repeated.
"Dunno." Goyle said daftly.
Crabbe, meanwhile, had just about enough presence of mind to look at his watch, and said, "Hour and a half ... that big hand's the minutes, right?"
"Yes." I sighed, realising that Cat had been right ... so who had I been talking to?
* * *
End of chapter 11
