by Perr - thought a break from those two would be refreshing. I hope.
Blaise's POV
If it's ever anything that I hate nowadays, it's that blasted Malfoy. Don't get me wrong; I still do respect him, his blood, his name, and his status in Hogwarts. It's only that prissy attitude and that head full of secrets that make my skin crawl.
I do remember that time when he rejected my help to cure his noisy sleep habits. That was when I knew that his reluctance to share with his mates was something to be changed.
Over dinner, I catch a glimpse of Draco, who is finishing up his meal. When he's done, he disappears, and later returns, wand in hand. He doesn't enter completely, but just stands at the entrance, and flicks his wrist hard.
I know that I'm being ridiculous, being so suspicious, but I don't like the way he's been these few days.
Something has happened to him.
When night proceeds, I know he's going to be up tonight. It's a Friday and he doesn't get very much sleep, so he sits on the couch and does whatever he wants.
I slip into the room unnoticed, with Goyle snug in his bed and Crabbe's limbs flailed. Draco is not there.
There is a noise outside. I move out, and spot white-blonde strands that are out of sight in a second.
You can't hide anything from me, Drake!
It's so odd.
I follow him through corridors and pathways, and he mumbles something about stupidity, arses and being deathly afraid of something. There's a bend he turns into, and I stop at that corner.
"Lumos," I hear, and peer from behind the wall.
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips, and it suddenly hits me that this may be a pivotal point, where I might be able to topple Slytherin's golden boy. I rush over to the other end of the wall via another route, to get a better view. The thing is, Draco doesn't realise that I'm really good at this spying.
Strange, Harry Potter seems to have met him. Draco is now stuttering his way out of conversation.
Wait.
Why are they having a rendezvous? If I do recall correctly, aren't they enemies?
They speak in hushed voices. Why are those portraits so restless? I can't hear anything. At the thought, someone comes. Harry utters a word of warning, "Filch!" The bloody cat runs past my leg and it shocks me.
"Oh my god," I whisper harshly, and jump back. My elbow knocks a dormant painting behind, and it falls off its hook on the wall.
Bloody hell.
I immediately make a run for it, to wherever my feet take me. My only chance at discovering the traitor in Malfoy is foiled by a stupid feline. Ugh.
But I will definitely sort out other ways and means to ruin that lying sod. Harry Potter is my next spy target.
That'll teach him to disrespect me.