Draco was in his room, with its paper walls, trying to think. It was one thing to have his world crash down around him - everything his father had ever pretended about the Rise of the Dark Lord -burnt to ashes. That was... devastating, to tell the truth if only in my own mind. Springing to his feet he paced back and forth - three paces, a quarter of the size of his room at the Manor. His fists curled in frustration. He hadn't a word of what went on outside the flat - all he had was silence. Think it through, Draco, he prompted himself. But the only thing his mind could conjure in the darkness were unseen, eldrich horrors - impossible things that crawled out of anticline geometry - the fearful understanding that things weren't right - and in a way he'd never suspected.
Goyle wasn't talking. It would seem like such a small thing - the stout lad wasn't a chatterbox, not like the Gryffindors merry band of brothers - but he wasn't prone to silence or sulking either. He spoke quietly, and firmly - and with an air of authority. That he obeyed Draco Malfoy was more a matter of family status, rather than of temperment. Draco Malfoy would understand if all Gregory said was, "It was bad." That was his way, and Slytherins don't pry amongst themselves - too much chance for someone to take undue offense.
But silence? Draco hated the implications... It was like seeing ultraquarine painted on every wall of Malfoy Manor- utterly incredible. Totally unbelievable. And most of all, completely wrong.
It was nearing midnight and through the thin paper door, Draco heard the sound of the floo. He entered at a leisurely stroll, his body crying out for him to ask, "What news!?" He blinked, as he opened the door, looking at Snape and Pansy Parkinson. That Snape, of all people, had brought Parkinson here... that spoke volumes. Snape was the last person anyone would use for a Peacemaker, except in extreme need.
"A gift, young lord, in exchange for sanctuary for this young lady." Snape said, his voice formal, as he started the role of intermediary.
"Do you think that a gift will quench the Malfoy's anger? Are you truly so ignorant?"
"Do you think the Malfoy's so stupid as to refuse a gift before even opening the cover?" Snape snapped, his mien showing barely suppressed rage. Draco thought it mostly an act - part of the formality. Draco Malfoy hoped it was an act - it was not wise to antagonize the cranky Potions Master.
"Perhaps seeing is indeed believing..." Draco Malfoy said, opening the potions book carefully. Inside, he saw a different book entirely, and his eyes gleamed with greed.
"You see that treasures are indeed found in the unlikeliest of places, do you not?"
"I should not judge a book by its cover. Consider myself duly chastened. Very well, I will accept Parkinson under my protection, if she swears to do me and mine no harm in the interim. The Malfoy anger is unquenched and unyielding, but I shall turn it aside with mercy - for now."
[a/n: codes and forms of honor. Pansy's family and Draco's family were squabbling - this is about the best he can do, because he's not the Head of the Family. He's being generous, even - he could have asked for more from Pansy.
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