Draco Malfoy and the Disownment Project
Chapter Twelve
Disclaimer: See Chapter One
Draco stared at the sandy-haired boy before him, his mind whirring. He wanted to say something, anything, to fill the uncomfortable hush that now hung between the two of them.
"You what?" he asked, trying and miraculously succeeding in keeping his voice from doing something embarrassing and unMalfoy-like. He was rather proud of himself, in spite of his heart now thumping distractedly in his chest.
"I want to talk to you about Lavender," Seamus repeated.
There were still so many thoughts running through Draco's head that, for a minute, he could not think clearly. It was only for a minute, though, and soon he was his usual self again, trying to figure out the best way to settle the situation.
As far as Draco could tell, he had three options. One, he could take the hostile, defensive route and tell Seamus frankly that if he, Draco Malfoy, wanted Lavender, he would stop playing nice and just take her. Two, he could play off of Seamus's newfound respect of him by admitting that he liked Lavender, but because of his recently acquired conscience, he would never do anything about it. Or three, he could just deny it to his dying day.
What am I going to do? Draco kept repeating in his mind, lapsing back into the chaotic state it had been in before. What am I going to do, what am I going to do, what am I going to do? ... Hey, wait!
He had interrupted his inner recitation for a mental head slap to remind himself of the most important fact of all: he was Draco Malfoy. He could handle this Irish half-breed, and if need be, he was most certain he could take him down. Anything Nott could do, he could do better, after all.
"What about Lavender?" Draco asked guardedly. He was prepared to fight for his woman—or, in this case, his tool for world domination.
Seamus seemed to be picking his words carefully. Draco heartily wished he would get on with it—the tension was wreaking havoc on his nerves.
"Well, you see..." Seamus said, buying time.
"Yes," Draco prodded in what he hoped was a gentle, encouraging manner. Judging from the look the Gryffindor was now giving him, he hadn't accomplished that particular tone.
"Oh, I should just say it," Seamus said. "Draco, I know you like Lavender. In more than a friendly way, I mean. And I want you to know that it's okay."
"What?!" That was not what he had expected. He had anticipated 'Keep away from my girlfriend!' or 'Don't look at Lavender again or I'll curse you into next year!' He would never have counted on such a passive statement from a man whose girlfriend was in danger of being stolen away by the most devastatingly gorgeous guy in school.
Seamus sighed in a defeated sort of way. "Listen, Draco, let's stop playing dumb, I can see that you like her. The way you look at her gives it away." He got a wistful, faraway look in his eyes. "I mean, who wouldn't like her? She's beautiful and funny and wonderful. She is really awesome at Divination, she's a great dancer, and she laughs at my jokes. Yeah, I know she's not exactly all up here—" Seamus raised his eyebrows in a suggestive way, tapping the side of his head— "but she really is great, and I know what you see in her. I mean, I feel the same way."
Draco wondered if it was physically possible to go numb with shock. His bets were on yes, as he seemed to be doing just that. It was not a comfortable condition to be in.
"I take that look on your face to mean that you do like her, then," said Seamus.
"What look on my face?"
"That deer caught in the headlights look."
"I do not look like a deer caught in the headlights. I would never look that despicable."
Seamus laughed. "You honestly did."
"I won't believe it."
"Suit yourself."
Draco shrugged.
"Come on Draco, you like her, right?"
"Well..." There wasn't any point in prolonging his so-called 'denial.'
"Yeah, Seamus," he sighed theatrically. "I really do."
Seamus looked satisfied. "I could tell."
The Gryffindor boy now seemed to be having definite trouble meeting Draco's eye.
"I have an offer to make you," said Seamus. "And it might sound weird, but you're a Slytherin, so I'm sure it's not too weird. Not with all the rumors of the stuff that goes on in the dungeons... anyway. Draco, what—what would you—what would you think about being Lavender's new boyfriend?" He said the last part very quickly.
Draco couldn't help it—he burst out laughing.
"Oh, good one, Seamus!"
Seamus blinked, looking perplexed.
"I wasn't joking."
Draco gave a particularly loud giggle. "Oh, sure, you're not joking. Okay. I'll play along."
"Draco, I swear to you that this is not a trick."
He was so solemn that Draco couldn't help but believe him, which made the situation about ten times more confusing.
"This is really hard for me," said Seamus, sounding a bit as if he were smothering down tears, "because I really love Lavender. And she means so much to me. But I've realized that I can't protect her, and that she would be much better off with you."
Draco finally snapped out of his stupor long enough to choke out a completely flabbergasted, "Excuse me?"
Seamus swallowed hard.
"You could take care of her. I can't even protect myself from the stinking Slytherins. No offense."
"None taken," Draco said, still bemused.
"And you could provide for her. And, well, now you're so nice. You saved me from Nott, and if you'd do that for me, you'd definitely do it for such a fantastic girl like Lavender. Right?"
"Of course I would!"
"I know." Seamus paused. "And that's why I'm going to break things off with Lavender tonight. She'll be okay, I think. I'm not sure that she really likes me as much as I like her. And you can ask her out, and everything will be fine. I know she really likes you. She always talks about you and everything. I wish you two the very best."
Draco was completely and utterly bewildered.
"That's it?" he asked. "That's all you're saying? 'Here, have my girlfriend, she's yours for the taking'?"
"Well," Seamus said impatiently, "no Draco, because she's not anyone's for the taking. She is a lovely young lady, and I am not giving her out like she's my property, or something! Good Lord, what do you Slytherins do downstairs? I'm merely giving you the opportunity to make a move."
"It still makes no sense."
"It makes perfect sense!" Seamus said testily.
"If you say so."
"I do say so!"
Seamus's face was turning red and he seemed to be getting slightly on the insane side.
"Well," said Draco. "Er—thanks, then."
"You'd better take care of her, Draco."
"I will."
"Okay." Seamus looked suddenly embarrassed. "That's that, then. See you later, Draco."
And with that, he turned and walked back into the library. Draco was left standing alone in the corridor with only his very baffled thoughts for company. His seclusion did not last long, however.
"What the bloody hell was that about?" asked Blaise, looking about as surprised as he felt.
"Blaise! Where did you come from?"
"I was hiding."
Draco looked around the hallway.
"Where, exactly, would that have been? There is nowhere to hide here."
"That's what you think," murmured Blaise. "I was watching you in the library, and when you left with Finnigan, I knew I had to follow you. How I did it is not important. Let's talk about what really is important. Is Finnigan intoxicated or something? Surely Gryffindor chivalry cannot extend this far!"
"Am I dreaming?" Draco said. "I mean... well, you saw it. Why would he just stand back and allow me to go after Lavender? Of course, he probably realizes that when you compare the two of us, I am the obvious choice for prime boyfriend material, and he simply doesn't have a chance against me, but still."
All of a sudden, Blaise started laughing.
"Can you even believe this?" she said. "After all that time, and all of that work, it comes down to a few minutes in the hallway with a crazily noble Gryffindor. It's almost anticlimactic."
They began walking toward the Slytherin common rooms.
"Personally," said Draco, "I'm glad all the Lavender chasing is over. Now comes the easy part—making her fall for me."
"You astound me with your modesty, you really do."
"Oh, come on, you know she obviously has a thing for me. It'll be no problem wooing her, and since those extremely odd Gryffindors don't hate me anymore, it looks like all the real struggles are over."
"Don't get too arrogant," Blaise scolded. "You don't want to be lulled into a false sense of security. There could still be problems, you know."
"You worry too much, Blaise."
"I'm just thinking ahead."
"Just revel in the victory. Lavender's mine!"
He laughed maniacally. Blaise stared, then shook her head.
"Come on, I've got Transfiguration homework."
"So do I," Draco groaned. "We can work on it together."
"If by working on it together you mean cheating off of me, you can think again."
"Why would I mean that?" Draco said innocently. "I always do my own work. It's the only way I can assure it will be done correctly."
Blaise looked as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it. Instead, she led Draco down the corridor, then stopped abruptly.
"What is it?" Draco asked, but Blaise hissed at him to shut up. The next second, he realized why.
Peeves the poltergeist was turning the corner, dropping a bag of dungbombs every meter or so. Draco's nose wrinkled as he smelled Peeves's latest act of destruction.
"Why, hello Peeves," said Blaise. Peeves threw a dungbomb at her, which she easily deflected with her wand. Peeves narrowed his eyes, sensing a challenge. Draco was saved the ensuing consequences by a silvery white ghost. The sight of it made Peeves's eyes widen, and with a strange little squeak, the poltergeist tore away toward the Great Hall.
Blaise looked at the Bloody Baron with slight disappointment.
"Thanks," she said, disgruntled. "I've been waiting for a good showdown with Peeves for weeks."
The Baron didn't answer, but followed her and Draco into the Slytherin common room.
The Slytherin ghost very rarely made an appearance in their common room, something for which its residents were grateful. On those unusual occasions in which the ghost did visit, almost no Slytherins could be found in the immediate vicinity. Draco looked around and saw that the tradition was still very much alive—as soon as they'd entered, the entire house rushed to their dormitories, and within a minute he and Blaise were the only breathing creatures in sight.
"Well, just make yourself at home, then," Blaise said to the Bloody Baron, giving an exaggerated bow before sitting down in her chair and starting work on her essay. Draco marveled at her seeming lack of reaction. The horrible, gaunt ghost even gave Snape the creeps.
"How was your day?" Draco asked, attempting conversation with the Baron. "Good of you to help us out back there."
The Baron just looked at him.
Draco tapped his fingers on the table awkwardly, looking everywhere but at the ghost. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Baron still staring at him. Reluctantly, Draco turned once again to look at him.
"So," he said, "is there a Bloody Baroness?"
The Bloody Baron raised his eyebrows at him. Draco swallowed audibly.
"You're Malfoy, right?"
Draco jumped slightly, and even Blaise looked up from her parchment. No one had ever heard the Slytherin ghost talk before.
"Uh, yeah, that's me," Draco stammered.
The Baron looked at him for awhile before speaking again.
"You look just like your father, you know."
"Uh," said Draco, not quite sure what to say to that. "Well, I'm not exactly on good terms with my father."
"So I've heard," rumbled the ghost. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."
By now, Blaise had set down her quill and was looking intently at the Bloody Baron.
"Why do you care about Lucius Malfoy?" said Blaise suspiciously.
"I don't," said the Bloody Baron. "I care about Draco Malfoy's plan."
There was a ringing silence.
"How do you know about the plan?" Draco finally squeaked.
"Everyone knows about your plan," the ghost said, exasperated.
"What do you mean, everyone knows?" Blaise asked with concern.
"Well obviously not everyone," said the Baron with an eye roll that put Blaise to shame. "However—Zabini, isn't it? I am a Slytherin, and every Slytherin in this school knows of Malfoy's plan. Except for Snape, but then Snape can't see past his own colossal nose, can he?"
Draco and Blaise shrugged.
"I wanted to warn you, Malfoy," the Bloody Baron said in a low voice, "this plan of yours can only lead to bad things. You should abandon it. The consequences will almost certainly be costly, if not fatal."
"Fatal? How can it be fatal? What do you mean by that?" Draco demanded.
"Your little project just may end up alienating those people who you rely on most," the Baron went on.
"People can be sacrificed for the greater good," said Draco defiantly.
"You may think differently later down the line, Malfoy."
"No, I don't think so," Draco said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "As long as I get the power, I'm fine with alienation."
"Malfoy, I think you should rethink this," the ghost admonished. "I predict terrible things in your future. Things will not go how you want them to, and you will bring shame upon your name!"
Draco raised an eyebrow.
"And how do I know you aren't making this all up?"
"I know things," the Baron said simply.
"Ah, I see," scoffed Draco. "Well forgive me if I put very little trust in the ravings of a mad, antisocial dead person."
"We shall see," the ghost said. "We shall see."
After exchanging a confused glance, Blaise went back to her essay, while Draco concentrated on straightening his tie, then his robes. He ran a quick hand through his hair and rearranged the books in his bag. When he looked back up a few minutes later, the Slytherin ghost was still gazing at him.
"Oh, for Salazar's sake!" Draco cried. "I can make my own decisions! I don't know what you're playing at, with all of your vague warnings and spookiness, but you're not changing my mind! I'll see this through if it kills me!"
"Don't say I didn't warn you," said the ghost, drifting away from the table and out of the common room.
Draco watched him go, then turned to Blaise.
"What do you think he was talking about?"
"I think he's a lunatic," Blaise said, dipping her quill in a small pot of ink, still writing away. "Don't listen to him, Draco."
But Draco could not help but think back on what the Bloody Baron had said. It hadn't made any sense. The ghost couldn't possibly be able to predict the future, could he?
Blaise put away her essay, then looked at Draco seriously.
"Just forget about it," she said. "We have bigger things to worry about than the ranting of a gory ghost. Lavender will be a free woman by tomorrow. You have a big day ahead of you."
Truer words were never spoken.