Draco looked up briefly as everyone gathered around the breakfast table. Goyle and Crabbe were first, hungry as they were. The girls followed afterward, and everyone wound up looking at Draco (who was still reading.) After nearly a minute of expectant waiting had passed, Daphne marked up the courage to say, "Draco? What happened to breakfast?"
Draco looked up, surveying the room, his grey eyes cold as steel. "Later. We need to talk." Draco said, laying his book down and stretching himself to full extension. He straightened himself in his chair, and said in a soft voice*, "I think we're all alone now."
"What- what do you mean?" Astoria asked, shifting in her chair to sway closer to Draco Malfoy. Draco caught himself, as he nearly frowned. She was trying to get in his pants, while he was trying to talk about something emimportant/em. Talk about inconsiderate.
"Things aren't going as planned. If they were - well, we'd be eating canapes at the Dark Lord's feet." Draco Malfoy said. His eyes flicked quickly to Greg, who was shaking all over, just like a leaf about to drop from a tree. "Why do you think we're here?"
"To keep us safe?" Vince said slowly, his methodical brain coming up with the easy answer.
Daphne straightened, looking every inch the pureblood princess, "Because they don't trust the Dark Lord to keep us safe. Because we'd be in danger there."
"None of that," Draco Malfoy said with a sigh, "We're here because if we were there - we'd be bait. He'd blackmail them with our continued survival."
Pansy's lips had formed a thin, tight line as she pursed them. She put an arm on Draco's shoulder, and she asked, "What do we do then? What can we do?"
"I'm not sure, quite yet." Draco Malfoy said shortly. "But whatever we do, we'd better do it quickly. We need to have it done before Hogwarts lets out for the next summer."
Vince said shortly, "You think they managed to sneak us out." He paused, and said, "Well, except for Greg."
"What do you know?" Draco Malfoy demanded in a curt voice.
"He was there - at his house - before Snape came." Vince said in his gravelly voice, "Hasn't said a word since." Vince shook his head slowly, "What the Malfoys feared would happen to their son - I think..." Vince trailed off.
"...has happened to Greg." Draco said softly, feeling remorseful for his earlier pranks on his friend.
"We, we can't count on our parents anymore?" Astoria said in a trembling voice.
"Could be worse." Vince said, "We could be where they are now."
Draco said, "They risked a lot to get us here, no doubt."
Pansy said quietly, "Professor Snape risked more, I think."
"We can't count on many of them." Draco said firmly. "We need a plan."
Daphne said gamely, "Why not just take Potter's side then? If the Dark Lord's ... evil?"
"Fine for you to say," Draco Malfoy spat, "Do it if you like. I don't think I could manage," Draco said, shaking his head. "Too much bad blood. It'd take more than my word for Potter to trust me at his back."
"What can we do, then?" Pansy said, sounding smaller and quieter than Draco had ever heard her.
"We plan, we prepare - and if at all possible, we find a way out. I won't be the wand pointed at my father's head. I will leave his hands free, if I may." Draco said firmly.
"With you, Draco." Vince said shortly, putting his hand into the middle of the table. Goyle covered it with his own.
"You're better at this than me." Astoria said prettily, putting her own hand in.
"Hopefully this won't be as stupid as the last adventure you sent me on." Pansy said, her curls waving around her tossed head as she slumped her pretty hand into the pile.
"Oh, alright. I suppose after what Weasel's been feeding him, Potter would look at any Slytherin just the same as he'd look at you, Draco." Daphne said, putting her hand in the middle.
"Together." Draco said solemnly, his hand topping the pile.
"Downstairs, Harry Potter read a grim letter, throwing it in the fire right afterward, not even letting Ron have a glimpse. "Leave me alone," Harry said, in a voice rough with unshed tears. He ran upstairs, up to the Widow's Walk, and right into the driving rain. Sirius is dead. What's the use. Later, Dumbledore would show up to 'counsel' him. Hermione and Ron would attempt to pretend to get along (Ron was the worst actor Harry had ever met). Harry, however, felt like his world had turned to ash, and that no words, nothing at all, really, could bring Sirius back.
He had died fighting, though even Albus Dumbledore wasn't quite sure what he'd been fighting. Something up in Manchester, Dumbledore had said. Harry couldn't help but remember Sirius' devil-may-care philosophy, how he'd chafed at Grimmauld, and gotten into horrid fights with Snape.
That was the only pallid sunlight, that Snape hadn't shown up to gloat. Harry'd known that they didn't get along, for some reason, but at least he'd not entered a grieving house with a smug-ass smirk on his face. As if he'd been able to predict the Mutt's death right down to the second.
[a/n: Well, at least now it's in the open. Wonder what happened to Greg? Leave a review!]
*shamelessly copied from Sev. Snape