"So essentially," Snape declared, "it's like a game."
"A fun game," Bellatrix elaborated, "a fun, fabulous game that lets you put those goddamn blood traitors in their place."
Draco was nibbling on the tip of his quill, he was in such a state of fevered anticipation. Bellatrix and Snape were talking to him about the Death Eaters! They were actually going to let him join the club. And then he would get one of those nifty tattoos! And he'd get to take over the planet! Not to mention the fact that he'd get to see people like Snape and Bellatrix on an almost daily basis. Their sheer effervescent sophistication seemed to radiate through out the room, bouncing off the walls like Weasley Wizarding Wiz. Draco wished he could have Bellatrix's baby. Hell, he wished he could have Snape's baby. But then he paused for a moment, and thought about how male bodies were completely unequipped for childbirth, and that the very idea was somewhat unnerving. In fact, it was very unnerving indeed.
"Damn dirty blood traitors!" reiterated Draco.
"Right," Snape replied, his eyes rolling discretely, "so you just need to sneak into Miss Bone's room and take her tape recorder. It will be on the premises somewhere, I just don't know where precisely. That's the challenge."
"Why would she have a tape recorder?" asked Draco.
"Because she's an evil Muggle born!" said Bellatrix.
"Mudblood," corrected Draco.
"Right," replied Bellatrix, "Mudblood."
"Do you have any ideas on how I might get the tape recorder from her?" asked Draco.
"No idea whatsoever," said Snape.
"Well I do!" replied Bellatrix.
"Good," said Draco, "what are they?"
"You'll use the formidable force of your Slytherin charm upon her."
"My what?" enquired Draco, dropping his rather mottled, drool covered quill in front of him.
"I'm not sure you've noticed," said Bellatrix, "but you're seen as quite the little Sex God."
"Really?" Replied Draco. "I was under the impression that people either disliked me or were afraid of me."
"That's why you're so sexy," Bellatrix continued, "you're misunderstood."
"I thought I tended to express myself quite clearly. You mean when I tell Potter and his friends that I hope they all die, they think it's a cocky yet funny line? Because I do actually mean that I want them dead. I could be more vehement about it if I needed to."
"Just tell her about the abuse you suffered in your childhood."
"I never suffered any abuse in my childhood. I had a fantastic childhood. People gave me everything I wanted. I remember the simple joys of it – sitting around with Father playing Ugly Mudbloods and Noble Wizards. He always let me be the Wizard. And I always got to win, because noble wizards are much better than ugly Mudbloods. Just the thought of ugly Mudbloods makes Mother want to die."
Bellatrix snorted, "So does almost everything." Snape elbowed her forcefully in the ribs.
"What did you say?" demanded Draco.
"Nothing," retorted Bellatrix. "In any event, the general consensus is that Lucius beat you and your mother, and that's why you're so angsty. It's not your fault. Heaven knows all children who suffer abuse in their childhoods have no choice but to grow up to be monstrously mean people."
"I'm not monstrously mean," replied Draco, "I'm standing up for the side of right. And more importantly, Father would never abuse me. He's my friend. He gives me great gifts, and helps me intimidate people."
"Don't worry about it," stated Snape, "people think Luna Lovegood's father abuses her too, and they're obviously pals. They both seem quite happy to live in their own private realties where they hunt imaginary dragons over the summer. People are just very quick to decide that quirky personalities are the result of bad parenting."
"You could probably move the situation with Susan along more quickly if you said Lucius abused you though," noted Bellatrix, "it's just something to consider. That is, if you want to be in the Death Eaters. Personally, I think it would be the Slytherin thing to do, to play the sympathy card if you have it handy. I'd say it would even be the pureblood thing to do. A way of winning a real game of Ugly Mudblood/Noble Wizard."
"You want me to sleep with that dirty blood traitor?"
"Well..." said Snape.
"Mudblood rape is a time honored tradition, I suppose. Though I don't think it would help get the tape recorder."
"Pardon me," said Draco, "did you say Mudblood rape was a time honored tradition?" His face contorted with distaste.
"Umm..." replied Bellatrix.
"Because that would be a disgusting thing to say. I'm shocked and appalled," said Draco.
"Well..." Said Bellatrix, "I don't mean "rape" per se..."
"I can't believe you would ever think that I'd allow my gorgeous Pureblood half Veela genes to mix with those of a Mudblood. Really, I am shocked. Perhaps you're not the gorgeously prejudiced organization I thought you were."
"Oh, no," replied Snape, "no trust me, we're really prejudiced."
"We hate those damn dirty Mudbloods," stated Bellatrix.
Snape leaned over and whispered into her ear, "Don't you think that kind of vulgarity shows a distinct lack of imagination?"
"Quiet," replied Bellatrix, "don't you remember how hip vulgarity was when you were young? And we give them tattoos. We're a very youth geared organization, Severus, and we'd do well to remember it. He's Joe Brooks so don't give me any bushwa, isk kabibble."
"What?"
"I really am trying to be up on my slang."
"That's not the youthful slang of today, Bellatrix."
"Standards of trendiness will be redefined by us after the victory."
"Ish kabibble indeed."
"Pardon me?" said Draco.
"Professor Snape was just expressing that he had doubts as how committed to the organization you really are," declared Bellatrix.
"No, I'm committed," said Draco, "really, I want that nifty tattoo."
"Good," replied Bellatrix, "now toss this wife-beater on; you've got some seducing to do."
Ten minutes later Draco was attired in a tight white tank top which revealed the faintly concave curvature of his chest. Bellatrix couldn't help but be a surprised; she had always imagined that he would be rippling with muscles. It was a common misconception about quidditch players – few people realized that the broom did most of the work. It was best to be lithe and small, thus allowing you to maneuver in the air, so it was true that one rarely saw overweight quidditch players. However, while it was a sport which built up some thigh muscles it didn't amount to a full body work-out. Which explained why the baggy jeans Bellatrix had given Draco to wear were almost slipping off his svelte body. The cowboy hat was also tragically oversized and blinded him somewhat.
"How am I supposed to seduce anyone in this ridiculous garb?" asked Draco.
"Ask Professor Snape," snorted Bellatrix, "I hear he goes in for strange costumes. It's a pity we can't find you any platform high heels."
"Platform shoes?" asked Draco, "Well, I am committed enough to wear those if you really need me to."
"No," said Bellatrix, "that wouldn't be masculine in a thuggish, bad boy way. In fact it would be rather effeminate. Oh my, you don't swing that way do you?"
"No!" exclaimed Draco, "Why does everyone always think that?"
"Perhaps because you volunteer to wear platform shoes at the merest provocation?" suggested Snape.
"I was just trying to show I'm committed," claimed Draco.
"Sure," said Snape.
"Look, I didn't come here to be insulted."
"Stop being difficult, ferret-boy!" exclaimed Snape, "You're behaving like a Gryffindor."
"How so?"
"You're filled with a strange dignity and confidence that is inappropriate in a Death Eater," explained Bellatrix.
"Oh," murmured Draco, "I'm sorry."
"Just don't let it happen again," replied Snape.
"Remember, a good Death Eater always grovels to their superiors," said Bellatrix.
"And they bring them baked goods," noted Snape. Bellatrix shot him a scornful look.
"Well, really," muttered Snape, "it doesn't hurt. Why shouldn't we have extra cookies? I like cookies."
"That sends the wrong message to new recruits," replied Bellatrix emphatically, "it's a slippery slope from being a maniacal organization feared throughout the Wizarding World, to being an organization of mild mannered pastry chefs. It's a tumble down a slope that I don't care to make. And quite frankly, Voldemort's predilection for pseudonyms isn't helping."
Draco felt the conversation was all getting a bit too esoteric for him. In an effort to turn the discussion back to his status as prospective recruit he asked, "How do you want me to seduce her?" He struggled to pull his pants up to a more discrete level.
"I've already told you," sighed Bellatrix, "tell her you had a bad childhood."
"How will that help me get the tape recorder, though? That just seems like a gratuitous seduction. And frankly, I'm not quite eager to mix my gorgeous half Veela Pureblooded genes with a blood traitor, either."
"Honestly," groaned Bellatrix, "you're not half Veela."
"What!?" replied a shocked Snape, "I always assumed the Malfoys were chalk full of Veela blood. Just look at their hair!"
"Well, I suppose with the right hair stylist anyone can be half Veela," replied Bellatrix.
"My God, you mean they dye their hair?" Snape began rummaging through the roots of Draco's hair like a chimpanzee searching for fleas on the back of a spider monkey. Draco looked pitiful and violated.
"It is dyed," marveled Snape, "he has mousey brown roots."
"Shut up!" replied Draco, "shut up, you evil, evil people!"
Snape and Bellatrix exchanged a look that indicated they were very pleased with their own deliciously malevolent natures. Today was not the day that they would have to worry about starting new careers in the pastry industry. Bellatrix thought she would feel quite safe indeed if she could only convince Voldemort to change his new alias from El Elegance Elegante to something along the lines of Mad Dog Who Kills Muggles in Wild Muggle Slaughtering Sprees. That would probably be too obvious for his sensibilities though. She'd been having tea with him yesterday and he'd been mentioning the possibility of changing his name again to "Mr. Fantastic." Bellatrix thought the name Mr. Fantastic would make him sound like a circus clown who made a living fashioning balloons into woodland animals and distributing them to small children. Though, as Bellatrix considered it further, she realized that it did have a certain unique element of horror to it. She always found that no matter how much time clowns spent making their balloons into a daschunds, they always came out looking like an old man's twisted and mangled intestines. It didn't surprise her that so many young children ran screaming from clowns. Still, she didn't think they could make people cower in mortal fear at the thought of saying "Mr. Fantastic" aloud.
"You're lucky we're not giving you the Cruciatus Curse for your impudence," stated Bellatrix with the most gravitas she could muster.
"I've heard that Muggles go through much worse than this to prove their worthiness on college campuses," noted Snape. "Besides, seducing people is fun!" The sneer on his lips indicated that it wasn't his personal favorite pastime, but the intention was certainly a noble one.
"And that Susan is so attractive!" pointed out Bellatrix.
"According to whom?" enquired Draco. "She's a slightly overweight Hufflepuff."
"Well, people," replied Bellatrix. "I can't think of a name off the top of my head, but there are certainly people out there. Important people with exquisite taste."
"I know one Pureblood Wizard is in a very intense romantic relationship with her."
"Then why would she want to sleep with me?" wondered Draco. "If she's in a happy, well adjusted relationship, she should be satisfied in that area."
"Stop this totally unnecessary application of logic!" shrieked Bellatrix. "You're the Slytherin Sex God and all women want to sleep with you, and that's all there is to it!"
"I still don't see why."
"Because you had a lousy childhood, dammit," continued Bellatrix through clenched teeth, "we've been over this. And I'm getting really very frustrated that you're not picking up on it. Perhaps you're not the best candidate for our opening in the organization."
"All right," said Draco, "fine. I'll seduce her. At least she's not a mudblood. I can almost guarantee you it won't work though. Especially in this ludicrous outfit."
"That outfit isn't ludicrous," said Bellatrix, "it's sexy. Though I admit, the two are easy to confuse sometimes."
"But I can hardly walk," mentioned Draco.
"Not being able to walk is sexy! Professor Snape can attest to it," stated Bellatrix.
"Exactly," said Snape, "you can fall on top of her, and, since the jeans made you do it, then it won't technically be sexual harassment."
"So that's why people wear baggy clothing!" cried Draco, "I never understood it until now."
"Yes. People are wily," noted Bellatrix, "especially men. Now go visit Susan, you've got some seducing to do."
Draco nodded and limped off pitifully towards the Hufflepuff dorm. Many people cast him pitying looks as he tried to keep his jeans from falling. Periodically he also stumbled into walls – the cowboy hat was blinding. He wondered what about any of this could appeal to any woman who wasn't in desperate need of a pre-frontal lobotomy.
Meanwhile, girls up and down the Hogwarts hallways swooned at the sight, murmuring "Draco, my Drakkie Draco" as they dropped to the floor in puddles of lust.
Draco finally arrived at Susan's door. He knocked politely, and she opened it, subtly licking her lips at the sight of Draco's apparel. Draco glanced around the room. The walls were painted pink. On one wall he saw a poster of a unicorn with big – gargantuan, really – purple eyes. It was freakish. On the other wall a series of letters written on blue parchment signed "your Dumbley-Wumbley" seemed to be adhered. He decided that Susan might just be crazy enough for this to work. He also noted that the tape recorder was prominently displayed on her nightstand. He figured he could grab it after he had rendered her unconscious in a state of frenzied sexual exhaustion.
The only problem lay in the fact that he had no idea how to about this. He knew he was supposed to say something about having had a bad childhood, but surely, after years of deriding Hufflepuffs – and really all houses save Slytherin at every opportunity – that wouldn't be nearly enough. He would have to be awfully charming. But then, he supposed he had to start someplace.
"I had a bad childhood," Draco replied, "sometimes I cry about it."
"Really bad?" asked Susan, a faint trickle of drool emerging on her chin. She couldn't resist men with bad childhoods.
"Bad." Draco shrugged his shoulders in a bold – yet tortured - way.
"And only I understand you! Come kiss me, you Pureblooded love monkey," breathed Susan, and she began tearing off her school robes in a fit of wild abandon.
"Wow," thought Draco and his jeans slipped from his hips, "women must be completely deranged."