AN: Chapter three of my HP story. Still DM/HP slash. Actually not quite yet, but it will be some day. Please don't kill me for going overboard with Stan's accent, I was just having some fun. If you think this is bad just wait till we get to Hagrid. (Heh heh heh) Hope you enjoy what little there is of it. Please read and review.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of J.K.Rowling's WONDERFUL creations and I am sincerely sorry about the butchering that they receive at my hands.

Parlance of the Serpent

Chapter 3

Draco sat in the Knight Bus on his little bed poring over one of his schoolbooks. Even though potions was Draco's favourite class, he was having trouble concentrating on Lenore Philocteta's description of which famous wizards were poisoned by which potions in Their Last Elixirs; a Stopper in Death. Instead he was wondering how his mum would do without him. He trusted that Tinder and Dipsy would take care of her, but he also knew that every wizard in the area of their home would look upon Narcissa Malfoy as a disease. The constant interruptions of the bus's jerking movements didn't exactly aid in his concentration.

"'Choo readin'?"

Draco looked up into the face of Stan Shunpike. Stan scratched one of his overly large ears as Draco hid his natural inclination to sneer. A thousand ways of telling Stan to mind his own business flew through Draco's head, but he ignored those as well.

"It's a book about potions," Draco tried to be civil. "I really need to read it for school, so if you don't mind"

Stan shrugged huffily and went to sit down next to the driver. Draco tried to go back to his reading, but as the purple clad conductor made no effort to lower his voice it was rather difficult.

"I don' know what's wrong wi' some people nowadays," Stan accentuated each word loudly and carefully, clearly not for the benefit of the driver. "Seems like some people don' trust no one these days. I don' think it's 'ealthy for 'em. But maybe if they learned some manners"

Stan stopped short as he was nearly flung out of his armchair by a particularly sudden halt of the bus. Stan leapt up to open the bus door and, seeing no one, banged it shut again. As he began to berate Edward Prang, the very young bus driver, for making an unscheduled stop, someone began pounding on the bus door. With a look of complete surprise, Stan opened the door to admit a short little witch with a gnarled and battered blue umbrella.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the strand Mum!"

Draco rolled his eyes as Stan hugged Mrs. Shunpike. She was short and squat with wispy strands of greying hair sticking out from under her patched hat. She swatted at her son with her purse and sat down as the bus jumped back into its jerky motion. Mrs. Shunpike pointed at Stan with a finger almost as gnarled as the handle of her umbrella.

"You no good son o' mine. Choo doin' closing that door on me, eh?"

"I didn' see you Mum," Stan's face slowly turned bright red. "I thought Ed'ard here'd made a mistake."

"Can't a body pop into the 'ouse fer a cuppa wi'out 'er own son disertin' 'er?" Mrs. Shunpike pulled a teakettle, a spoon and a teacup out of her bag and poked at them with her wand. There was a small puff of greenish smoke, and the kettle poured out tea into the cup. Mrs. Shunpike continued complaining as the spoon stirred her tea for her. "Can't see why I can't bring me tea wi'out bein' left all sudden like. Chocolate's too 'xpensive on this 'ere bus as 'tis."

"Mum," Stan, now beet red, glanced nervously over his shoulder at Draco. "You can't bring yer own food on the Knight Bus. It's 'gainst the rules. Some people might get the wrong idea."

Stan gestured frantically at Draco, who quickly ducked his head behind his book, too proud to admit to eavesdropping. Mrs. Shunpike leaned around her son and glared at Draco, trying to place his features. As recognition slowly showed on her face, her glare turned into an angry scowl.

"You! Boy!" she snapped at Draco, who looked up in surprise. "You're that bastard Malfoy's son. Don' you try to 'ide it neither. I'd know you scum wherever you be."

Mastering his anger Draco looked resolutely across the aisle at her. Slowly counting to five in his head, Draco allowed himself to speak steadily, his head held high.

"I would never deny who I am. I am proud to say that my name is Draco Malfoy."

Stan's eyes widened in shock as his mother's got even narrower. She started breathing heavily and her face turned a peculiar shade of red. With what was clearly a great effort, she drew herself up to her full height and stared down at the young wizard across the aisle from her as she spoke to her son.

"Stan Shunpike I 'ad 'oped to 'ave brought you up not to consort wi' rabble. I refuse to stay one minute wif a Malfoy. Either 'e goes, or I do."

Stan, not knowing what to do, looked back and forth between his mother and his customer. Draco sniffed, closed his book, and stood up. With a wave of his wand his things packed themselves into his suitcase which then hung in the air behind him like a dutiful dog.

"I don't think I will stay here and allow my family name to be insulted," he remarked coolly to Stan. "If you will show me to another bed, I will attempt to ride the rest of the way in relative peace."

Stan gratefully led Draco up a staircase and into the top of the bus. As he went up the stairs, Draco heard Mrs. Shunpike talking to Edward.

"End up just like 'is father that one will in Azkaban. Bad apples the lot. Mind you the mother used to be a'right, but she lost it when she took up wi' that fellow's father. Watch the road; watch the road!"

Draco settled onto his bed and gazed out the window at the jumping landscape. His manner may have been aloof, but it was only hiding a deep shame. He wasn't proud to be a Malfoy, considering what came with that name recently. Honestly he wanted to be accepted. As a Malfoy that was hard enough, but Draco had made enemies on his own as it was. And by turning in his father he knew that anyone remotely connected with Death Eaters would shun him just like the old witch in the bus. With a sigh he leaned back on the cushions and closed his eyes. It would be a long ride to Diagon Alley.