Draco Malfoy and the Disownment Project
Chapter Two
Disclaimer: See chapter one.
"I'm bored."
Blaise and Draco were currently working on Stage Two of Step One—or as Blaise called it, 'the spying on the Gryffies part.' While it was an entirely accurate term, Draco thought the name lacked stealth.
"Shut up, you agreed to this."
"Yeah, well I didn't plan on spending hours watching the stupid Gryffindors eating and doing homework."
Draco would never admit that he, too, was getting weary of watching Harry Potter and his groupies go about their daily lives. Malfoys didn't ever back down from an Evil Plot. It was one of their golden rules. But Blaise was right: the Gryffindors were an incredibly monotonous bunch. He wanted danger! Intrigue! Cat fights! Crying! Angst! The Gryffindors got along much too well, in his opinion. That was their problem—they didn't have enough excitement in their lives outside of their 'save-the-world' urges. The Slytherins by contrast hardly let an hour go by without a showdown, or at the very least a good House drama. It was good for character—it kept you on your toes.
"Can we go now?" Blaise whined. "I'm hungry and uncomfortable and have spent more than a day's quota of time with you."
"Shh!" hissed Draco, swatting her arm and ducking away as she thrashed back. They had been crouching behind a bookcase for an hour, watching a group of Gryffindors working on what looked like N.E.W.T. Potions homework. Ron Weasley, The-Bumbling-Oaf-Who-By-Some-Act-of-God-Made-It-Into-An- Advanced-Potions-Course, was looking close to tears, anyway.
"Is there a point to all of this, really?" asked Blaise, that irritating, patronizing look in her eyes.
"Yes, there is, now hush!" spat Draco.
Harry Potter's head jerked up in an abrupt motion and he looked around cautiously, as if he had just heard something. The boy really was too vigilant for his own good—he must have taken that idiot Moody's words to heart. Draco thoroughly disliked that Moody character, especially now. While the whole bouncing ferret thing was enough for Draco to hate the man for life, the impostor had also been integral in bringing that idiot Voldemort back, thus cueing his father to once more pick up his Death Eater robes and bring Draco along for the ride. In fact, you could even go as for as to say that part of this whole Disownment Project was Impostor Moody's fault! If it was not for having to return to those ridiculous Voldemort Youth meetings, Draco may have been able to keep his sanity (and his inheritance).
He breathed a sigh of relief as Potter's messy head returned to his homework before he rounded on Blaise.
"Did you see that?" Draco snarled as quietly as he could manage. "If you keep complaining you could give us away!"
"And it isn't possible that it was your shushing that startled Potter?"
Draco cursed the day he asked Blaise for help. He cursed her parents for not drowning her when they had the chance. And most of all he cursed Blaise herself for being the solitary Slytherin who would be a good accomplice: it was just his luck that she also came complete with the ability to match him intellectually.
Stupid Blaise, he thought savagely. Stupid Blaise and her stupid observation skills.
Though perhaps cursing Blaise's perceptiveness was not a smart thing—she had, after all, been the one to find out that Lavender Brown had a boyfriend. Granted, she hadn't been able to figure out who the mysterious boy was, and Draco had faith enough in his exquisite good looks that he could get past this particular predicament no matter who he turned out to be. But knowledge was power, nevertheless.
"Come on, I'm through with this," said Blaise suddenly, grabbing Draco's arm below the elbow and dragging him forcibly from their hiding spot.
He started and gave a surprised shout, alerting everyone to their presence and earning himself a reprimand from that petulant old hag Madam Pince. The Gryffindors looked up as one, alarmed at the noise. Their startled looks turned quickly into scornful frowns of disdain as they saw who it was who had interrupted them.
"I told you, Draco," said Blaise loudly. "We need to get a note so we can use the Restricted Section, we're just never going to find it here."
The Gryffindors all seemed pacified, if disgruntled, by this and returned to their work, a few making acrimonious remarks about 'inconsiderate and boorish Slytherins.' Draco wanted desperately to retort, but decided it wasn't worth it. They were all ignoring him now, anyway; all except that obnoxious meddler Potter, who looked at them with an eyebrow raised.
"What are you looking at, Potter?" asked Blaise impatiently.
"Nothing," muttered Potter, giving them one more scrutinizing look before bending his irritatingly rumpled head back over his books.
"Nice going, Blaise," spat Draco once they had left the library. "Way to be crafty. Are you a Slytherin or not?"
"Please, they didn't suspect a thing."
"Potter knows something is up! You don't know him like I do! He'll be suspicious from now on!"
Draco wondered if he sounded paranoid to her ears, too.
Blaise made an impatient sound. "You're getting hysterical. Honestly, you give him too much credit. Let's go back to the common room."
Draco muttered darkly under his breath as they headed toward the dungeons, ignoring the exasperated noises and eye rolling now issuing from Blaise. They gave the password and entered the room, sitting down in an isolated spot as not to be overheard.
"So what have we learned so far?" said Draco, leaning back in his armchair with his arms behind his head. He gave a satisfied smirk at the girls pushing each other to get a better view.
"Uh... that Potter eats an unhealthy amount of treacle tart, Weasley has trouble in Potions, and Granger is an insufferable busybody."
"Nothing we couldn't already have guessed," Draco sighed. "Though watching Weasley struggle with Potions was quite amusing."
"Yeah, I almost felt sorry for the prat. It made me want to go over and help him."
Draco gaped at her.
"Condescendingly, of course," Blaise added.
Draco bent down to look at their field notes on the Gryffindors, his hair flopping into his eyes. He pushed it back to the audible sighs now emanating from the girls in the room.
"The only useful thing we've got here is Lavender's boyfriend! And even that can be avoided!"
"Aren't we awfully confident in our wooing abilities."
"Blaise," said Draco smugly. "Look at me. I'm Draco Malfoy! Lavender's boyfriend could be Gilderoy Lockhart and he still wouldn't have anything on me."
Blaise snorted and rolled her eyes. "Such a demure, modest boy."
"You can strain your eyes that way, you know," said Draco. Blaise rolled her eyes once more for good measure. He decided to ignore her.
"We don't even know who her boyfriend is," she said. "For all we know it could be Potter himself. And I know you think you are God's gift to women, and they seem to buy it, for some inexplicable reason that I fail to comprehend, but Potter may be the one guy you couldn't steal a girl from."
"Please. Women love men with good hair. I could steal his girlfriend in a millisecond."
"Do me a favor and shut up for once, Malfoy," she said testily. "Whatever the rest of the female population thinks, I know that you are just an obnoxious little pain with a pretty face. Why couldn't you focus on that Weasley kid? The Chamber of Secrets girl? She doesn't have a boyfriend, and she obviously has a thing for aspiring Dark Lords. You could sidle up to her and we'd have less of a problem."
"Blaise! She's impoverished and I have standards."
Blaise stared at him. "Are you telling me that you're not taking an easier target because she hasn't got money?"
"She put the Bat Bogey Hex on me!"
Blaise sniggered. "You are incredible, Draco, you really are."
"And—ugh! If hypothetically I did target the brat, I would probably be getting twelve singing valentines a day and I absolutely could not endure that. Just imagine it: 'His hair is as blonde as a beautiful Veela's, his eyes are as gray as a storm. Ha ha, he's all mine, the boy is divine, Draco Malfoy, the world's next big Dark Lord.' "
"Now you're just singing your own praises. And 'storm' doesn't rhyme with 'lord.' "
Draco was feeling slightly humiliated. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway, as she obviously considers me a sworn enemy! And she's Potter's best friend's sister. That's too close!"
Blaise contemplated this. "I still think you're stupid."
"What else is new?"
"Well, we'll think more about it tomorrow. Today was pretty much fruitless."
"Why do I have the feeling that this is going to be more trouble than it should be?"
The next day found Draco and Blaise spying on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. This served no real purpose but to allow Draco ample opportunity to take notes on their technique. He thought he was being sneaky and duplicitous until Blaise pointed out that she knew exactly what he was doing. He really was starting to tire of that girl.
Blaise, on the other hand, was for the most part ignoring him. She did not even pretend to be interested in Draco's commentary of the practice session. She was lying flat on her back in the grass, gazing up at the clouds and occasionally yelling, "Mute the blathering, Malfoy!"
Draco was conflicted—in some ways, a non-communicative Blaise was an improvement, but a lot of him missed their bantering sessions.
"How did your old man get out of Azkaban, anyway?" asked Blaise some time later. She propped herself up on her elbows to look at him. Draco's eyes narrowed as he thought of the abhorrent bane that he called a father.
"I'm not sure, he didn't tell me details. 'All in good time, Draco. You'll learn when you're ready, Draco.' I think The-Man-Who-Let-The-Boy- Live had to break him out, but then what do I know?"
"Not much."
"It was a rhetorical question."
"Yeah, I caught that. Very clever."
They fell back into silence as Draco scribbled notes about Potter's Seeking style.
"This is utterly useless," she said finally.
"It is not! Potter has a slow left swerve! I can beat him to the Snitch in the next Gryffindor-Slytherin game by utilizing his weaknesses!"
"I meant that spying on their practice is a useless way to garner information."
Draco felt a tad bit stupid. "Shut up, Blaise."
She rolled over onto her stomach, grabbing her wand from her pocket, and began shooting curses at innocent ants. Draco was rather impressed that after ten minutes she still had not repeated a spell. Who would have ever thought to use Tarantallegra on insects? He found it all quite amusing. Blaise, however, seemed to be getting bored of her little game, and quickly progressed to harder, and consequently more illegal, spells.
"Imperio!"
Blaise's current victim was making its way up Draco's leg. He decided to ignore it. Blaise forced it up Draco's arm. He remembered violently that he was timorous of things with too many legs. Draco liked to think that this fear stemmed from too many classes with that imbecile Hagrid and the monsters he mistook for 'precious, harmless animals,' but he was determined not to let Blaise find out.
It's just an ant, he lectured himself. A sweet little ant. It's not hurting anybody. In fact, it's crawling on me so it has probably already fallen in love. Cute little thing.
It was at this point that Blaise made it crawl up his nostril.
Draco did something very shameful and unMalfoy-like. He screamed.
Blaise roared with laughter at the sight of Draco hopping to his feet, doing a sort of manic jig as he tried to remove the bug from his nose.
"Blaise Edwina Edward Zabini!" he bellowed. "What in the name of all that is dark were you thinking?"
"Ooh, middle names, too!" Blaise gasped. "I'm quaking now! Is ickle Draky- poo afraid of the little pesky ant?"
"You sound like that idiot friend of my father's when you talk like that," Draco grumbled, sitting back down with as much dignity as he could muster. "That Lestrange woman. She does that baby talk thing too. It's really not very becoming."
Blaise laughed harder. Draco faded into tenebrous muttering as he went back to watching the Gryffindors. How was it that stupid Potter could control a dive that well without crashing his broom and killing himself? Because there is simply no justice in the world, Draco thought.
"How much longer until I can leave?" asked Blaise.
"When I say you're permitted to go."
"And I answer to you now, do I?"
"If you are helping in this plan, then I am your boss."
Blaise sighed. "I really don't know why I put up with your egocentricity."
"It's because deep down you know that I am a brilliant and gorgeous specimen of man and you can't help but fall under my spell."
"Oh yes, that must be it," she said with an eye roll.
"I really wish you'd stop doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Rolling your eyes."
Blaise grinned maliciously. Draco felt apprehensive, then irked that he was feeling wary of Blaise.
"So you mean that eye rolling gets on your nerves?"
"Yes," he said, regretting his answer immediately.
"So you mean when I do this—" she rolled her eyes several times in rapid succession, "—it bothers you?"
"Yes," Draco said through gritted teeth.
"Then I shall keep doing it."
Draco felt the urge to smack her until her eyes fell out.
"If you keep doing it, then I shall hex you into next year."
"Watch me as I cower and shudder with uncontrollable dread."
"Oh, shut up."
Draco was reviewing his notes on Potter's performance when the sound of giggling reached his ears. Now, Draco was quite the expert on giggling. He knew each individual giggle of every girl in Slytherin house. When you received so many sappy compliments, you learned to distinguish one from another. This was most definitely not a Slytherin giggle, yet something about it was familiar, important...
He looked up and saw Lavender Brown walking hand in hand with Seamus Finnigan.
"Emergency! Emergency!" yelled Draco, jumping to his feet. "Subject is approaching the area, I repeat, subject is approaching the area! Proceed to battle stations immediately!"
He hopped (very gracefully, he thought) behind a convenient bush to observe his target.
"I think we've solved the mystery of Lavender Brown's boyfriend," said Blaise, standing up calmly and dusting the grass off her robes.
"What are you doing you idiot girl?" squawked Draco. "Get to your battle station!"
Blaise rolled her eyes heavenward and seemed to be praying for patience.
"Where would my battle station be, oh glorious leader?"
"Blaise, do you not remember the seventh rule of the Disownment Project? Concealment is the key to success when it comes to spying effectively! You are not concealed, you fool!"
"I am sorry, your greatness. Please do not hurt me. I will never do it again."
"Do you find that your sarcasm arouses a feeling of vexation in you, as it does me, or do you enjoy it?"
"I most definitely enjoy it."
"I figured as much. Get behind this shrub, you half-wit!"
She languidly hid herself behind the bush. Her dawdling was an obvious attempt to harass Draco and it had its desired effect. Draco grabbed the back of her robes to pull her out of sight faster.
A look of repugnance distorted his usually lovely features as he watched Lavender twitter moronically at something Seamus had said.
And to think that foolish Irishmen had helped me come up with my Plan, thought Draco bitterly. Now he is hindering it by dating the one Gryffindor girl I need to worm my way into their ranks.
"Well," he said to Blaise, "at least now I know that I won't have any problem whisking Lavender away from her sweetheart. Finnigan is not even near my level. The only Gryffindor below him is Longbottom!"
"Maybe Lavender won't like your pomposity. Maybe she wants a pure, virtuous, Gryffindor-personified boyfriend."
"The girl's an airhead, Zabini," said Draco scornfully. "She sees me and knows only that I am beautiful. That's all she cares about." "
She deserves you, then," Blaise snarled, not quite low enough. Once again, Draco decided overlooking it was best.
He wasn't sure how much more of Blaise Zabini he was willing and able to take.
Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews of chapter one! You all made my day. :)