A SLYTHERIN DRAMA IN ONE ACT

"Drusilla," Draco said sharply, stopping her at the top of the stairwell leading down to the sixth year Slytherin girls' dormitory. She paused, her hand on the cold stone wall, but didn't turn around.

"What?" she said quietly, so that he could barely hear the acid in her voice. Draco took a few steps toward his cousin until he was standing directly behind her.

"Face me when I'm speaking to you."

Drusilla scoffed, but complied. She had no wish for the horrid boy to think her a coward, unable to look him in the eye. As she turned around, Draco drew up to his full, imposing height and looked down at her in what he obviously thought was an impressive manner.

"Much better," he said smugly, in his best and silkiest 'Lucius' voice. "I think we'll get along nicely enough, Drusilla, if you can learn how to behave. Which I think you can. You are a Malfoy, after all."

Drusilla drew in a long, deep breath, but didn't reply. This night had already taken a wrong turn; she didn't trust herself to retain her composure if she opened her mouth now. She was glad that she had put her hands into the pockets of her robes, for now they were shaking with anger, and she was certain that had Draco seen them he would have mistaken fury for fear.

He turned around and gestured to two empty armchairs in the common room, which two rather large and unfortunate-looking boys were standing guard over.

"Shall we sit and talk for a moment?"

"No, thank you," Drusilla said coldly. "I'm going to my room to unpack. Goodnight." As she turned around, however, a smooth white hand grasped her arm firmly above the elbow.

"You're not learning very quickly, though, are you?" Draco said harshly, and turned around to walk into the common room, pulling her along with him. A couple of seventh-years looked up at the spectacle and smirked. One blonde girl giggled loudly as Draco sat Drusilla down in an armchair and then took the one opposite her.

Drusilla looked at him with undisguised amusement; she had never met a boy more like his father, or more desperate to be so. The two Malfoys sat still for a long moment, staring at each other, before she stood straight up and walked over to stand behind his armchair. Several more Slytherins were now staring at their performance with a mixture of delight, curiosity and anxiety. Before Draco could open his mouth to issue another order, Drusilla leaned down so that her mouth was next to his ear, and grasped a handful of his platinum hair with one hand, pulling his head back sharply. The blonde girl stopped giggling and gasped in horror.

"Draco, Draco, Draco," she whispered in a voice he hadn't heard from her before. It was almost an imitation of his father's… or an imitation of an imitation of his father's. "You are such a delightful thing. I shall take pleasure in discovering all you have to offer me throughout the year. You haven't really impressed me yet, but I do hope you'll try again, dear boy."

She released his head and straightened up, walking directly to the sixth year dormitory stairwell. Draco stood up angrily and pulled out his wand.

"Come back here immediately!" he barked, a note of desperation in his voice. The hand that pointed his wand towards her shook, but no curse or hex was uttered. A sound he had never yet heard floated up from the bottom of the stairs Drusilla had just descended; his cousin was laughing at him.