Draco sat on a low stool in the dungeon pouring preservative into a large jar of dragon's liver. He'd felt restless this evening, and had come down to help Professor Snape with some menial tasks. He was glad to keep busy, as moments of idleness gave him time to think. He found he didn't much like what he thought about these days.
"Finished there, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked, corking a small vial of blue liquid called Mesmrixa. It was actually a powerful hypnotic potion, giving the user complete control of his victim. The victim would do whatever was asked of them, even end their own lives, yet they would not appear dull or abnormal to others. It was one of Snape's more unpleasant mixes. Draco nodded in response to the query, capping the jar and heaving it over to the storeroom. There he and the professor began the task of cataloguing what had just been replenished, and what would need to be replenished soon. Draco wrote carefully, taking the left side of the storeroom while Snape inventoried the right. There was much to do here always, and it never failed to impress Draco how Snape knew it all so perfectly. His potions were of the highest quality, and fetched a fair amount of galleons from the apothecaries he sold to. He could make much more if he took his products to the open market, but he didn't. He chose to remain a Hogwarts teacher, and Draco had never understood that. Neither had his father, who didn't approve of his close relationship with the Potion Master. Draco smiled to himself as he conceded that this was why he'd maintained their friendship. Why had he chosen to remain here, though? Draco had never had the nerve to ask before, but tonight he felt particularly frustrated. As he measured a jar of snake eyes, he drew a deep breath.
"I noticed you and Miss Parkinson by the lake this afternoon, Mr. Malfoy," Snape remarked before Draco could speak, "Did you enjoy the wind off of the water?"
Draco stopped writing and slowly turned towards the professor. Snape's back was to him as he calmly continued to catalogue potion ingredients, and Draco cleared his throat.
"Well, I wanted to be outside today, since it had stopped snowing. Of course the Gryffindors were taking up half the grounds with their snowball fights, especially Potter and Weasley. If Pansy and I were to have any peace, we had to go down to the lake."
"Ah yes, Mr. Potter and his faithful sidekick," Snape said mockingly, "Where there is mischief to be done, there you'll find the Terrible Twosome."
Draco laughed, and began writing again. "At least they can brew something effectively. I've never seen any two who were better at causing trouble and headaches. Three really, we can't forget about Granger."
"Yes, my most adept student," Snape agreed, "And so annoyingly unforgettable. I sometimes think she ingests her textbooks. And her knowledge of Hogwarts: A History is legendary, I hear."
Draco snickered, grinning gleefully as he began to warm up to the topic. "I can just see her doing that. Starting at breakfast she'll have Arithmancy, Transfiguration for lunch, then Advanced Charms for supper. If brains could give you attitude, she might have made a decent Slytherin!"
"Perish the thought, Mr. Malfoy. I'd hate to think of her bushy head bobbing around Slytherin commons telling everyone what to do." Snape chuckled.
"Well, it would be constructive, at least." Draco's lips pursed, "A lot better than the drivel that spews out of Pansy's mouth."
"Indeed," Snape replied absently, leaning over a jar of dried billywigs.
Draco frowned as he remembered the conversation he'd had with Pansy that afternoon. "She thinks I don't pay enough attention to her. I was wondering when she'd get the hint."
"I see, the infamous attitude of men being careless and thoughtless. Careful, Mr. Malfoy, you'll give us all a bad name."
"I just don't see myself with her, Professor," Malfoy said suddenly, "I sometimes don't see myself following the exact path my father's chosen for me either."
Snape turned carefully around to regard his student. Draco had stopped writing and had half turned himself, staring at the ground, the frown on his face betraying his whirling thoughts.
"You're quick to judge your father's plans. Are you so certain of what they might be?" Snape asked casually.
"I'm sure of some of them anyway," Draco replied restlessly, "I look forward to some, but not others. I suppose it's my laziness, not wanting to always be toiling for the greater good. When do I get to be selfish?"
"I'd say when you open your eyes in the morning, of course." Snape quipped, causing Draco to laugh.
"Yes, you're right. I have plenty to be thankful for. I'm rich, influential, and a pureblood. What more could I want?"
"A life, perhaps?" the professor suggested helpfully. Draco smiled slightly as he lifted a jar of scarab beetles, unaware that the professor was studying his every move and word.
"I have a life." Draco answered.
"Yes, you do." Snape agreed.
"In fact, I've been meaning to tell my father that I want to…" Draco began, but paused uncertainly.
"Let me guess," Snape smirked, "You're secretly in love with Ginny Weasley, and the two of you intend to elope this summer."
"Professor," Draco whirled around in shock, sputtering and dropping his clipboard in the process.
Snape laughed, "Only joking, Mr. Malfoy. My sense of humor tends to get extreme at these late hours."
Draco smiled weakly, a line forming between his brows as he retrieved his clipboard. Where had that come from? He was wondering how the professor could have said such a thing, when the Potion Master's voice cut into his thoughts again.
"Did you enjoy Hogsmead? I thought I'd heard that you hade gone on Saturday," Snape asked. Draco scowled. "Really Mr. Malfoy, you should have rested." Snape rebuked quietly.
"Yes, I did go, and no, I didn't much enjoy it since I hadn't slept." he replied, "Stone was in a bit of a snit as well, because I'd had the bad manners to recover quickly."
"Mr. Stone displays admirable ambition, Mr. Malfoy. I'd have thought the two of you would unite on some point of scholastic collaboration or other."
Draco smiled wryly at his clipboard, "We have frequently united on term papers and experiments, Professor, as you well know. And he's helped a fair bit in the development of the skills of some of our younger members, not to mention in finding…er…volunteers for some of our more experimental charms." Draco laughed as he remembered Stone gesturing to a bush a few weeks ago, indicating Neville Longbottom's presence. Draco had walked over to the bush, wand extended, and cast a freezing charm he'd been developing. The spell worked similarly to the Body Bind, except it froze the victim in his or her action completely, instead of binding them and leaving them aware. It was more like petrification with a wand, and the victim's last memory would be seeing the spell cast. Draco grinned as he recalled how Longbottom had frowned at him for the next week. Pity he'd become so used to being the Slytherin whipping boy, as now he no longer offered the extra entertainment of running away from them.
"So you do get along, then?" Snape asked.
"For the most part," Draco agreed, "But there's always competition."
"Indeed yes," the professor said lightly, "And where would we be without competition to keep our skills sharp?"
"True, but it gets a bit much at times. It's just so damn constant." Draco replied, finishing his list. "You know, there are times I feel more unsafe with my own house mates than I do on a quidditch field. It's sad."
"Why is it sad?"
"Well," Draco stared at the ground, groping for the right words to express what he was feeling, "I see the other houses, and the other students and they all seem so happy together. They look like they know that they're safe, and that their house mates would defend them in an instant if they were in danger. Hell, Gryffindor proves that time and again! But Slytherin only presents a united face to outsiders. On the inside the scheming and backstabbing is par for the course. When we sit together and chat at tea or meal times, most of the conversations are opportunities to out do each other's bragging. It's pathetic sometimes, it really is."
Snape was quiet a moment, then spoke carefully, "There will come moments in your life, Mr. Malfoy, when you will experience doubts about the path you choose to walk in life. The thing to remember is that your choice, once made, will define your person for all time. Whether that leads to success or regret is entirely up to you."
Draco stared at the potion master. His father had often spoken to Draco about choices in life, but not like this. Was Snape telling him something? Draco couldn't decide, but had no doubt that he'd been handed another kernel of wisdom from his mentor. Snape just usually chose to be cryptic about it.
"I'm finished with this, what else needs to be done, sir?" Draco said, handing Snape the clipboard.
"That's all for tonight, Mr. Malfoy," Snape replied, "You may go."
Draco nodded and took his leave, heading up the stairs for Slytherin commons. He made it to the blank stone wall that was the door to the commons, but decided he was hungry. So he turned away and headed for the kitchens.
Like many other students, Draco had discovered the kitchens and the joys of after hours snaking thanks to the obeisant House Elves. Finding Dobby there had been a bit of a shock, and the former Malfoy servant had never once spoken to or served him, but it really didn't bother Draco. It had irked his father to have to hire paid help, but life had continued pretty much the same for the Malfoy family even after Dobby's departure. Nothing would ever stop them from living as they were accustomed to.
He reached the painting of the fruit bowl and tickled the pear, sweeping into the large kitchen grandly. The House Elves always treated him with the respect he was due, and it was fun reminding them of his station.
Immediately upon his entering, several House elves ran over to him, smiling widely and bowing.
"Master Malfoy, is you hungry? We has some freshly baked puddings." One called Dinky squeaked happily.
Draco looked around imperiously, "That will do, and a sandwich as well."
The Elves bobbed as four more came running up behind them. Two of them carried a pudding on a plate; another carried a glass, while the fourth carried a small flask of pumpkin juice. Draco accepted them and looked around for a place to sit.
"Yous can sit with Miss Wheezy!" Dinky said shrilly. Draco blinked.
"Sit with what?" he asked.
"He said you can sit with Miss Weasley." said a low voice from the fireplace. Draco's head snapped towards the hearth, where Ginny sat looking coolly at him. He scowled.
"What are you doing here?" he snapped. She cocked her head and smiled in amusement.
"The same as you, apparently," she replied, "I was studying for a test tomorrow, and got hungry."
The House Elves had already cleared a place for Draco next to Ginny, spreading a blanket on the stone floor and placing his sandwich next to her. It was on the tip of his tongue to order them to wrap everything to go, but he decided against it when she smiled and said; "You afraid of me Malfoy?"
"Afraid?" he laughed, "Don't be stupid." He strode over to her and sat down, pouring the pumpkin juice and digging in to his sandwich. He looked at her and saw she was having the same, a corned beef sandwich and pudding. Dinky ran over to them.
"You need more food?" he asked eagerly.
"No, you may go." Draco replied coldly, making Ginny glare.
"Thank you, Dinky," she said pointedly, "But I'm fine. I don't need anything else."
Draco was irritated by the rush of sudden embarrassment he felt. Why should he be embarrassed? They were servants, and he treated them as such. Why did she have to make it seem like he was being an arse? As soon as Dinky ran back to his duties, he turned to her.
"Look, you and I have both had a pretty rough time recently. If it's not too much to ask, could we possibly just eat in peace? I'm starving, and really not in the mood for an argument."
Ginny looked at him, surprised at this little demonstration of maturity. He was frowning intently at her, and she had to admit he did look tired. The tender bruises under his slightly red eyes lent him a feeling of vulnerability, much as the night he'd been attacked. And he looked thinner, his cheeks looking sharper in his pale face. Even his hair was slightly mussed, falling over his stormy gray eyes and sticking out in little tufts around his ears. She blinked as she realized he was cute.
"Well," he demanded impatiently, causing her to start.
"Alright, yes," She frowned, turning away and stuffing her sandwich in her mouth to cover her embarrassment. Draco looked at her for a moment, then nodded and turned his attention to his own meal.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, Ginny glancing furtively at him. He ate quickly, obviously famished. She wondered what he'd been doing to work up such an appetite, and then wondered why she cared. He certainly seemed to take no more notice of her once their little agreement had been reached, which irritated her. A sudden desire to make him acknowledge her presence seized hold, and she followed it.
"The first Quidditch game of the season is next week," she said casually, "Slytherin versus Ravenclaw. Are you ready for it?"
Draco looked up at her, frowning. "What do you mean 'am I ready'? Of course I'm ready. I've been training harder than last year, so why wouldn't I be ready?"
"Sorry," she replied irritably, "I was just making conversation."
"Supper's for eating Weasley. If I want conversation I'll find my friends."
"Crabbe and Goyle," she laughed, "What brilliant discussions you must have! Do they involve words?"
"Sod off!" he snapped.
Ginny glared for a moment then turned away, gulping her pumpkin juice so forcibly she choked.
"Watch it," Draco began pounding on her back roughly, causing Ginny to spew out half her juice. She grabbed a napkin and pressed it to her mouth with one hand, and used the other to fend off his fist.
"I'm alright," she gasped, "Stop it, I'm fine!"
"Sorry," he stopped hitting her, feeling awkward, "You sure you're alright?"
She nodded, one hand pressed against her chest as she waited for the burning in her throat to die down. He looked at her, wanting to ask again if she was alright, and feeling a flash of irritation for it. She wasn't dying, for heaven's sake!
After a moment she lowered her napkin and rubbed her throat. It was then they both noticed several of the House Elves ringed around them, looking anxiously at Ginny.
"Does Miss need a warm drink?" one of them asked. Ginny smiled and shook her head.
"I'm fine," she croaked, sounding for all the world like a frog with laryngitis. Draco barely stifled a snort, and the House Elves continued to watch her with concern. She cleared her throat and tried again.
"Really, I'm alright." This time her voice was merely scratchy, and the House Elves breathed a collective sigh of relief. Probably think they'll be held responsible, Draco thought in amusement. He didn't see how, though, considering the forgiving nature of the Headmaster. Now if they worked for the Malfoys that would be a different matter entirely.
"You can go," he said to them. Ginny nodded her agreement, and they dispersed.
Ginny continued to rub her throat, though every second it was feeling better. She turned to Draco and found him grinning at her.
"What," she asked, frowning in surprise.
"You," he replied, shaking his head. "For a moment you sounded like a toad."
She glared at him, "If I did, it's your fault Malfoy."
"My fault, is it? How's that? I didn't go and make you slurp your drink like that. You should be more careful. Next time you might drown on a glass of milk."
She closed her eyes, "Malfoy, do me a favor and shut up!"
He chuckled, feeling giddy and enjoying her embarrassment. Drown on a glass of milk! He amazed himself sometimes. She was throwing him quite an evil look, but it only made him laugh harder. Her lips quirked, and for some reason that was funny too. He began to chortle and rock forward, holding his stomach.
"I'm fine," he croaked in imitation of her, and Ginny had to bite her lips to keep from smiling.
"It's not funny," she said forcefully, her face contorting as the struggle not to join him became obvious. But at that moment Draco rocked forward hard enough to almost bang his head into the ground, and as he reared back he over balanced and cracked his skull into the fireplace.
"Ouch!" he cried, his hands flying to the back of his head. Ginny's laughter burst out of her, the situation rendered all the more ridiculous because Draco was now curled up on the floor, holding his head and laughing like a maniac. He had a laugh like a crazed hyena, which amazed her, and tears started to run down her face.
"Stop it," she gasped, "I have to pee now!"
Draco nodded vigorously, his face red and tear streaked as well. After several minutes they were able to stop, but the moment they looked at each other, they burst into giggles again.
Is this happening? Ginny wondered. It felt very unreal, lying on a stone floor and laughing hysterically with Malfoy. It was several more minutes before she was able to reign herself in again, and as she sat up she noticed he was flushed and glowing.
"Blimey, you look good with color in your face." She murmured.
Draco stopped laughing and stared at her in surprise, "What?"
Ginny blinked, unable to believe she'd said that out loud. "Er…well you're always so pale." She explained awkwardly, "I was just saying, I mean thinking…you look alright" she finished lamely.
Draco wasn't at all certain how to take that. Had Weasley just complimented him? Or was this a clever insult? His expression was caught somewhere between confusion and irritation, and he couldn't think of a single thing to say. Ginny fidgeted for a moment, and then stood abruptly.
"I have to get back," she said, not looking at him, "Er…good night."
She had almost reached the door when his voice stopped her, "Hey Weasley!"
She turned around to face him. He was still sitting on the floor, his robes askew and his hair sticking out in all directions. There was a strange look in his eyes, and the ghost of a smile on his face.
"Thanks for the laugh," he said quietly.
Ginny's heart gave a thump at that. "You're welcome Draco. Good night."
A moment later she was gone, leaving Draco to wonder what was happening to his life.