The Filth in Purity
Chapter 4: Mr. Nice Guy?
Draco opened his eyes when the sun light in the room grew too bright. He sat up slowly and found that his entire body ached, no doubt from the Quidditch game in addition to everything else that had happened the previous day. Then the foggy memories of the conversation that had taken place during the night resurfaced.
She was right. She was right about ........something.
Draco yawned. Thank goodness the Quidditch games were on Saturday, which gave you a day to recover before resuming classes on Monday.
Malfoy looked to his right and saw Hermione up and about. She was moving her right arm around, the one he remembered she had bandaged and wrapped up in a sling. He realized he never did ask her what exactly happened.
"What's wrong with you?" The words came out more abrasive than Draco had intended.
Hermione thinking he meant something other than her arm, answered indignantly, "Do you want an argument or an answer?"
"An answer."
"I thought you already knew, I'm a Mudblood not worthy to be here at Hogwarts, or even worthy to exist, as you keep reminding every second!" Hermione practically screamed out, she was both hurt and frustrated. After all that happened the previous day and what was spoken last night, one would think he had learned something he hadn't changed one bit. Then again this was Draco Malfoy.
"I was reffering to your arm, stupid." Draco's eye twitched slightly in annoyance.
"Oh." Hermione was a little surprised. Yes, he had called her stupid, but even that was a step up from Mudblood. "Well, unfortunately I had a run in with a bone removing charm that Neville accidently pronounced, and misdirected."
"I should have known. How did he ever get accepted?" Draco sighed, and amused smirk coming across his face.
"Well, at least he's got more brains than the two fools you hang around with." Hermione pointed out. "And I might add he has very good marks in Herbology."
Draco was about to make a come back to prevent Hermione from keeping the upperhand in the conversation, turned debate, when Orlando Baragon, followed by Crabbe and Goyle walked in.
"Oh good, you're not dead." Orlando greeted the Prince of Slytherin. "What are you doing here Baragon?" Draco's voice suddenly became tired.
"To make sure the aformentioned possibility hadn't come to pass," Orlando looked at Crabbe and Goyle, "and they just kind of followed me, I guess with you out of commission they needed somebody else to follow around. So how are you doing?"
"Take a guess, think real hard." Draco frowned.
"Oh, I think I can." For the first time Orlando seemed to notice Hermione standing there. "Good morning Granger, how's the arm today?"
Hermione was taken a bit off guard, she never expected the Slytherin captain to be so downright sociable, particularly to the so called "Mudblood".
Orlando read the quizzical look on her face. "I know what you are thinking, how did a nice guy like me get put in Slytherin?"
"Hey!" Draco shout indignantly.
"Well you've got to admit Malfoy that you are not the nicest person ever to have walked the earth." Orlando spoke in a matter-of-fact voice.
Draco remained silent.
"Well, uh yes that did cross my mind." Hermione's cheeks went slightly pink with embaressment.
"Well I will tell you. It's because from the ages of 11 to 15, I was a complete jerk. 11 to 13 I was a scheming little business man, even though was rich, I was chiseling money out of my peers. With the help of Anna Dietrich ( she's the mind reader you know), I setup a business where people would pay her to read someone else's mind. Also, I would think up revenge pranks for people who had been pranked on, for a price as well. Believe me, I give Fred and George a run for their money, though I'm more of the revenge person rather than the initiator like the twins, and I never get caught."
"So what happened during13 to 15?" Hermione inquired further.
Orlando sighed looking almost embaressed. "Um, well as with every boy around the age of 13, we begin to act a little funny. I grew quite a bit and my horomones started to kick in, plus I joined the Quidditch team, which in turn kind of automatically admitted me into the Marcus Flint group of tough guys. And it was at this point with going through puberty and all I suddenly wanted become a 'man.'" Orlando droned on in a fabulous impression of Professor Binns, the Hogwarts History teacher. "So I left off my childish scheming ways for a while and became one of Marcus' coronies. And then in the transition from 14 to 15, I was growing not just in height, but in muscle tone as well, and in addition to all of that, my puberty horomones were giving me a short temper, so basically if you even looked at me funny one time, I would punch you in the nose. And finally,15 hit and I calmed down and matured to who I am now at 17."
"Oh." Hermione was not exactly sure what to say. "So um......How did you become the Slytherin captain?"
"Mainly because I'm the only one who can lead without Draco questioning me all of the time, because you see I am from a rich, influencial, pureblood family too. So he knows I can tell him to do stuff and he can't do anything about it. He hates because he knows I can and especially hates it because he knows I know I can."
Draco emitted a low snarl, that only he could hear. Baragon was right about one thing, he did hate knowing Baragon knew he was in control.
"So," Orlando turned back to Draco. "You feel up to some Quidditch practice today?"
"No he is not. He may be in shape to go back to the house, and classes, but in no way is he to even get near a broomstick for at least a few more days. We want to make sure the wounds don't tear open." Madame Pomphrey came in pointing a scolding finger at Baragon. "And neither should you with that ill stomach of yours."
"Actually Madame, I'm not as ill as I thought was. I found the source of my nausea and it came in the form of a huge welt I found on my stomach, which in turn was caused by the bludger I took in the abdomen during the game yesterday. I'm quite all right now, I assure you." Orlando explained cheerfully.
"Are you really?" Madame Pomphrey eyed him carefully, as Draco came up alongside Orlando smirking.
"Yes.....quite." Orlando said slowly, not liking the devious smirk on Draco's face.
"Well...all right, but if you get belly cramps from overwork, don't come crying to me." Madame Pomphrey huffed as she stepped past the boys to take a look a Hermione's arm.
"You really okay?" Draco looked up at Orlando who, at a height of 6'4", was about a head taller than him.
"Yes."
"Well I certainly hope so."
Without another word Draco proceeded elbow Orlando right exactly in the spot where the bludger had hit him. His smirk broadened when he heard Baragon let out a gasp of pain behind him. A nice little payback to the Slytherin captain who dared to think he could completely control Draco Malfoy.
"What's the matter now?" Madame Pomphrey turned upon hearing the gasp.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Orlando spoke through greeted teeth as he surpressed the pain.
"Crabbe, Goyle, grab my uniform, let's get back to the house." Draco called to his faithful lackeys.
"Yes, let's." Orlando half snarled.
The minute they were outside the hospital wing and the door had closed, Draco felt a terrible pain in the back of his head, caused by someone pulling on his ponytail. Malfoy saw the offender out of the corner of his eye, though he had already guessed who it was. Baragon.
"Now you listen here, you little brat!" Orlando had entwined Draco's hair firmly around the fingers of his left hand, jerking Malfoy's head back. Crabbe and Goyle attempted to attack Orlando, but they were easily finished off when the Slytherin captain delivered to Crabbe a quick kick to the gut, and a punch to Goyle's jaw, while still keeping a hold on Draco. "I've had it up to here with you and if you ever do something like that to me again, I'll kick you off the Quidditch team, then squeeze the pus out you with my bare hands. Got it!?"
With that Baragon let Malfoy go with a shove, and stormed toward the stairway that lead back to the main part of the castle.
"I see you've still got your temper even with all of your 'maturity'" Draco hissed, rubbing the back of his head.
"Yes, and I suggest you bear that in mind the next time you think tp cross me. I don't want to have to resort to force to keep you in line, but if you force me, I shall speedily become used to the practice." Baragon hissed and continued down the stairs.
Draco watched him go, seething inside. He was momentarily distracted when the door to the Hospital wing opened and Hermione stepped outside.
"How's your arm this morning Malfoy?" she asked.
"It's fine." Malfoy spoke in a distant emotionless voice, not even looking at her.
Hermione was once again surprised, she had expected some kind of retort like, "What's it to you?" or "None of your business!", not just a straight answer. Perhaps it was just because he was distracted.
"May I ask you something Malfoy?" Hermione, decided to test her luck.
"What?" Draco spat, this time turning to face her.
"The thing that attacked you, you told Madame Pomphrey that it looked sort of like a ghost, right?"
"Yes, what of it?" Draco was quickly growing impatient.
"That's all. I asked the question I wanted to ask, and you answered it." Hermione said matter-of-factly.
"But we know it couldn't have been a ghost because a ghost couldn't have made the type of wounds I got. If you don't know that, then you are not nearly as smart as you think you are Granger." A smug smile crossed Draco's face at the last statement.
Hermione sighed. "Oh I know. I just wanted to make sure of the facts before I begin my research."
"Your research?" Draco's smile faded.
"Yes. Your situation has piqued my curiosity, and whether it helps you or not, I fully intend to follow up on it." Hermione said beginning to walk down the stairs.
"Always in the library, eh? It's a wonder you have any social life at all Granger." Draco called down to her.
"Well, Mr. Malfoy, for all of the time you spend out of the library, it's a wonder that your only companions that would be loyal to you without the glorious name of Malfoy are the two dumbheads standing next to you. And even they are questionable." Hermione yelled back, then continued on her way.
Malfoy opened his mouth to respond, but found he had nothing to say....
All this and more on the next episode of : The Filth in Purity
Draco: Wow, that was a really stupid way to end the Author's note.
Vega Sailor: Hush, you!
Orlando: Yeah, it was so corny it could feed 200 chickens for 1,000 years.
Vega Sailor: Shrugs Yeah well, it's 12:00am again, what can you do?
Till Next Time
Vega Sailor