The Hardships of Being Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Not a chance in heck that they belong to me, but they do play a part in my dreams, so at least they visit.

Pairings: Draco/Potter eventually

Warnings: Whiny self absorbed Draco ahead, (I'm hoping that the clue bus smacks him soon.) not to mention OOC-ness to be had by all.

Authors Note: It has been a while hasn't it? Thank you to all of my reviewers! Unfortunately I am never near a computer long enough to get you all written down! Sorry! Just know I love you all, and hope you continue to enjoy it!

Part 10

Draco was in Hell.

This time he knew that there was nothing worse in the world that could happen to him. From here on out it was all up hill. It had to be. Not only did he 'owe' Potter a debt, but the mudblood was always frowning thoughtfully in his direction with a queer look in her eyes, and the weasel constantly glared at him in the halls. Also one of his housemates had defiantly seen him walking with Dumbledore in the purported direction of the Headmaster's office. He was such a dead man.

Then their was that whole bit that had happened last night in the Kitchens, seriously if Potter hadn't already creeped him out with that 'thing' in detention, Draco would be running for the hills by now. Regardless it was now just one of those strange things that made his life less then bearable.

After their little conversation in detention Draco had glared daggers at Potter, well glared as well as possible when his face was stained red in embarrassment because of his overly talkative tummy. Surprisingly once they got back to work he found the rest of the cleaning and arranging of the room to practically fly past.

In fact they were released from the spelled room relatively quickly, thought it still wasn't quick enough for Draco's taste. Once out of the room the famished Slytherin had turned on his heal and promptly walked away from Potter, and coincidently in the direction of the kitchens. Potter, however wasn't ready to let him get away if the sound of the annoying Gryffindor jogging to catch up to him was any hint.

"Hey Draco!"

"What do you want Potter?" The blond said with a sneer, not even bothering to slow or glance over at the other boy.

"Are you going to the kitchen to get something to eat?"

Draco almost faltered in his steps, but managed to keep moving in an almost smooth step. "What are you blathering on about Potter?" He said his voice only betraying a little surprise. "I wouldn't be caught dead in a kitchen. Only house elves and servants belong in there."

"Really?"

Draco sped up his pace slightly to get away from Potter. That tone of voice just didn't sound right coming from Scarhead's mouth.

"You do realize that I have been going to the kitchens for food for almost a month, don't you Draco?"

Draco stopped short in the hallway, he could feel Potter stopped maybe a half a foot away. He pushed an errant lock of hair out of his face and decided to bluff for all he was worth. "How would I know something like that Potter?"

Draco's eyes widened to almost comical size and his back straightened as if someone had replaced his spine for a steel pipe as he felt Potter rest a hand on his left shoulder. Then to make things worse the idiot Gryffindor started speaking gently into his right ear.

"It is not good for you to be eating so little.

You need to keep your strength up."

Draco pulled away in outrage and confusion, spinning around to demand an explanation of how Potter could possibly know what was on the note that he was given.

Before he could speak however Potter made another comment. "Hedwig was quite disappointed that you didn't try skritching the side of her head or that spot on her back in between her wings."

"You've been spying on me?" Draco said, his feelings at war within himself. One part was jumping up and down excitedly, crying out 'someone cares!' Another bitch slapped the happy part and said 'are you stupid! This is our worst enemy! Oh gods! We have a stalker!' Then their was the rational side of Draco's mind 'this is what we have been working for. This was the beginning of getting things back to normal.' Then there was another part skulking unhappily over in a corner, rocking back and forth manically, and muttering something over and over again. It almost sounded like 'stupid git, can't see what's right in front of our face, bugger doesn't deserve help.'

"Not really spying," Potter said flushing guiltily and looking at the floor. "It is easier to watch Ron, cause I have more of an excuse to be around him. It's just so I can make sure..."

Potter's voice had progressively gotten quieter, until Draco could barely hear him, but he had heard more then enough.

"Are you trying to protect me from your friends, Potter?" he questioned with more then a hint of a smirk in his voice. "Cause I can handle myself against Weasel, so don't bother. Anyway he isn't the scary one not that Mud..." once again Draco's traitorous stomach decided to put in its two cents, and gurgled loudly.

Draco put a hand over his belly as if to silence it as he would by covering someone's mouth. He then proceeded to blush again as Potter smiled at him.

"Come on Draco, surely you can put up with me on the way to the kitchens, once we get their I have something I need to discus with Dobby, and probably wont even get a chance to make a peep in your direction before we have to go."

For some reason Draco noticed that Potter seemed to be expecting some grand reaction to what he said, well grander then the 'just stay the hell away from me' glare that he was getting. Draco shrugged elegantly and resumed his course to the portrait doorway of the kitchens.

"So, Draco..." Potter began as he started trailing after the Slytherin.

"Didn't I tell you not to call me that Potter?"

"Oh, did you?" came the completely unrepentant reply.

"Well if I didn't I am now," he grumbled.

Potter was smiling, Draco knew he was. "Anyway I was wondering, have you ever had a conversation with a House Elf?"

Draco looked over his shoulder at Potter and wondered if he had gone completely mad.

"Are you Mad?" He said completely outraged as he stopped in front of the fruit portrait. "I'm guessing you mean beyond the normal giving orders, and punishments being handed out. I'd just as soon try and have an in-depth conversation with a cat! You might as well ask me to discuss philosophy with a rat or a toad! At least if it is a familiar people wont look at you like you've gone round the bend."

Potter let out a small disappointed "oh" as Draco crossed his arms over his chest and cocked one of his eyebrows as he grumpily said, "so are you going to ask me any more stupid questions, or will I be allowed to eat in peace?"

Potter looked sadly at the floor as he absently reached out and tickled the pear.

Immediately after it opened Draco stepped through the doorway, and was halfway across the floor to his usual seat when he noticed something was wrong.

One the House Elves weren't rushing him to ask what they could get for him. Two there were two place settings laid out, where he usually sat and right across from it. Gone were the normal benches, and in their place were two high backed wooden chairs, beautifully carved, and decked out in their respective house colors of those meant to sit in them.

Potter gently brushed past him and sat down, Draco meanwhile was highly confused. "What the hell is going on?" Never before had a place been ready and waiting for him here in the kitchens, and was that a candelabra on the table between the two place settings? A candelabra with candles made of two long tapers twisted together in the colors of Slytherin and Gryffindor houses? Surely this had to be a bad joke.

Even worse were the place settings themselves. Potter's had golden eating utensils, the glasses were red, Gryffindor red, stained glass with a leafy design pained on it in gold on the outside. The plate was of the finest bone china with a golden edge and the design from the glass mirrored on the surface only in red. Draco's place setting matched Potter's in all ways but two. Instead of red it was green, and in place of the gold it was silver.

"What the HELL?!" He yelled again as he grabbed the nearest House Elf by the front of its ... Burlap sack.

"Wiggen sorry Master." Came the pathetic whiney reply. "Master Dumblydore gave orders."

Draco dropped the little elf and collapsed dramatically into the tastefully decorated chair with the comfy looking cushion done in a tasteful emerald green and edged in silver trim. Sighing he covered his face with his hands, it was turning out to be a really long day. He sighed again wearily and pushed his hair back on his head, before speaking to the little elf that still stood by wringing his little hands pathetically. "I want some food to take back with me to my dorm, preferably something that wont get crumbs into my bed sheets..."

The House Elf winced and started looking around frantically for something, apparently not finding it quickly enough it broke down into sobs and started hitting it's head on the floor. "Wiggen bad! Can't do as Master orders!"

Draco sat shocked, what the hell was wrong with the world today? He watched amazed as the elf seemed to have a sixth sense when a fellow elf walked near by carrying an armful of heavy looking pots. The burlap wearing, Wiggen, Draco thought that was what it said its name was, quickly liberated one of the pots from its brethren and began beating himself about the head with it.

"No Wiggen! Stop!" Potter said jumping from his seat and grabbing the pot, while trying to sooth the distraught creature.

The Elf looked perplexed as he gazed up at the boy holding the pot before him. "Master Harry Potter is too kind," it squeaked. "I hears much good about Master Harry Potter..."

"Yes, yes, now why can't you do what Draco asked?"

The elf's eyes teared up again as its lower lip quivered. "Master Dumblydore said yous both to eat in the kitchens from now on."

"See," Potter said trying to sound assuring, "You don't have to punish yourself for that. Dumbledore runs the school so it is only natural that his orders come before students. Regardless Draco's not mad at you because of that, are you Draco?"

"How many times am I going to have to tell you not to call me that, Potter? And for the record, Yes, I am..." Draco trailed off at the cold glare he got from Potter.

Draco rolled his eyes, then gazed upwards beseechingly before taking a deep breath and saying, "fine. I am not angry at the Elf."

Frustrated he dropped his elbow on the arm of his chair and rested his forehead in the palm of his hand. "Could this day get any worse?" He muttered to himself under his breath.

"Alright Potter we'll just have to set up a Kitchen visitation timetable so that we don't encroach on each other's eating times..."

Potter had sat down while Draco was starting to make plans for the master chart they would use, when he suddenly jumped up again to stop the elf that was starting to beat himself again with the pot. "Bad Wiggen, bad!" It cried out with each resounding thwack. Draco for his part slumped further into his chair and mimicked the elf unconsciously by lightly hitting his head against the wooden back of his chair.

"No Wiggen! Why do you think your bad now?" Potter said, again trying to sooth the elf.

"Wiggen not tell Masters all of what Master Dumblydore said. Wiggen must be punished."

"No you don't need to be punished, just tell us the rest of what he said."

Draco knew that this wouldn't be good. He could feel the impending doom that was piggybacked on the words that the House Elf was going to say. A shiver ran up his spine as the little elf looked worriedly at Draco before glancing at Potter several times, before finally motioning Potter closer then whispering something in his ear.

"Oh for crying...That's it!" Draco's hands slammed down on the table, startling the elf from what it was saying and drawing Potters eyes. Draco grumbled to himself as he pushed himself up from his chair, only to find that he couldn't get up. It was if the chair was bolted to the floor, and his body was stuck to the chair. He got his legs free only to find that he couldn't get his back away from the back of the chair, if he got his torso free then his hands and arms were stuck. He couldn't get out of the chair!

"What the Hell!" he yelled as he continued to try and free himself. "Of all the fucking... Can't believe... Son of a Bitch!"

Draco started to panic, he hated not having the option of moving, though games he played as a child he had learned that he could still operate without his eyesight or hearing, (although he absolutely hated not having both) but he couldn't get away if he couldn't move!

He continued to struggle until he felt someone grab his arms. "Draco, calm down! It's Okay!"

"Fuck off Potter! Your not the one with their arse trapped in a chair!" He yelled as he raised one leg and kicked Potter squarely in the stomach to get him to back off.

He couldn't help but smirk as he watched Potter tumble over the annoying little elf who had been the bearer of bad tidings all evening. The little glow of happiness lasted until well after Potter managed to stand all the while slightly curled around his abdomen.

"Feel better now Draco?" The Gryffindor managed to wheeze out.

Draco found he did, now that he wasn't panicking he realized that if necessary he could defend himself. "I don't think there will be a time where knocking you on your arse wont bring a smile to my face." He said snidely.

Potter ignored him, in favour of thanking a random House Elf that had performed a pain-numbing spell on his stomach. Then he threw himself into his own chair and forced a smile on his face.

"So here's the deal Draco." The Slytherin started to speak but held his tongue at the frosty look he was shot. "It appears that the Headmaster has decreed that you and I are allowed not to eat in the Great Hall with everyone else."

Draco frowned as once again Potter forced a smile on his own features. At least he thought it was a forced smile. It really didn't look like one though. Draco's frown deepened, how could it be anything but a forced smile?

"In the interest of making sure we don't get under the House Elves feet at one of their busiest times, the elves have been given strict orders as to when the only times they are allowed to give us food are."

Draco cringed things were just getting bleaker and bleaker in his outlook. "Also, he wants us to be here at the same time and eat together because he feels that it does so much to aid in balancing of the mind and body when you have company as opposed to being alone."

Draco stared at Potter in disbelief as the Gryffindor continued droning on about things like proper nutrition, aids in good digestion, and what sounded to him like a threat. Something along the lines of, if they didn't take better care of their health then he would turn them over to Madam Pomfrey, who would then be in charge of what they got for their meals.

Draco shuddered at the thought. He was well enough acquainted with what Medi-witches thought a proper diet was. In between pieces of chocolate she would be shoving some of the most disgusting food down his throat. Foods like Iceberg lettuce salads, without dressing.

Suddenly something clicked in Draco's head. "Hang on Potter," he interrupted angrily. "You mean to tell me that little 'can't talk properly to save his own life' House Elf, told you all that?"

"What?"

"The little bugger couldn't have been talking to you for more then a minute! You expect me to believe that he crammed all that into your brief conversation?"

"Oh," Potter began clearly thinking hard, "Would you believe I have a special type of telepathy that only works with House Elves?" The cheesiness of the grin on Potters face made Malfoy want to slap him.

Draco Scowled at him Darkly. "Ok," He said his grin getting bigger. "All that Wiggen said was that your chair had been spelled to hold you until you met certain requirements. The rest the Headmaster told me when he walked me to my detention earlier this evening."

Draco gaped momentarily speechless as Potter continued to grin at him. "You mean you knew about this?!" He yelled when he gathered his wits.

"So, you probably want to know what he told the elf the conditions were, huh?" Draco nodded. "I believe it went something along the lines of you had to spend an hour and a half making pleasant conversation, and eating."

The blond Slytherin dropped his head on to his empty plate with a thunk. How did he keep ending up in situations like this? He had to have been cursed.

Upon lifting his head his plate suddenly filled, with all of Draco's favourite foods. "Now Master's time starts." Said a familiar voice from beside Potter's chair, and he had to quell the urge to throw his plate at it.

"So...Draco,"

Draco looked tiredly at his nemesis as he picked up a warm dinner roll from a plate just left of his drinking glasses. He ripped a small part off and popped it into his mouth. Monosyllabic conversation could be pleasant right?

Stupid Headmaster!