It was earlier than breakfast, and Draco hated to be up this early, particularly without good reason. Luckily, today that was not the case. He idly twirled the letter he had in his hands - for his mother, of course. He always had a letter for her, at least once a week. He well knew that she'd not let him forget it without consequence. A Hufflepuff mother might try guilt - but a Slytherin one? There would be real consequences. Draco wasn't sure what they'd be (he'd never missed a letter, after all), but they would be felt. Possibly something to do with his broom, his mother had never really approved of his broomriding as a child.*

Still, a discrete eavesdropping charm would be well appropriate - particularly skillfully and silently cast (Draco always had a yearn to know what others thought was private. He wasn't all that good at silent casting, but this one spell he knew like the back of his own hand, with his eyes closed), as that Hufflepuff prefect was chuffily ascending the stairs.

Sure enough, he heard Weasel and Potty busy whispering to each other. "Ahah!" They jumped out, hollering at the prefect, who drew his wand at their bothersome antics.

"Who's the letter for?" The two Gryffs asked.

"It's none of your business, now is it? If it's for you, you'll be getting it, and if it's not, you oughtn't to bother asking." The Hufflepuff said coldly, as Draco grinned from his hiding place.

"But! Someone's been sending letters to Hermione!" Ron said, unable to understand why a Hufflepuff wasn't giving him all the answers demanded. Draco smiled coldly - if Ron couldn't see that the demands for private information was setting the 'puff off, Draco wasn't about to offer enlightenment.

"And so what if they have?" The Hufflepuff said, "Is that now a crime?"

Potter toed the ground with his foot (the scuffing was easily audible to Draco's charm), and said begrudgingly, "We think that he doesn't have the best of intentions. Might want to harm her or something..."

"It's not you, is it?" Ron demanded with a proper Gryffindor fire in his voice. So sad, Draco thought mockingly, that it was just going to get the 'puff's back up.

"I wouldn't tell you either way. It's quite simply none of your business. But I will say that I would never send a letter, be it mine or someone else's, without making sure it would do the recipient no harm." The Hufflepuff ground out the last words, "And I take offense that you would believe otherwise." Draco heard the distinct sound of cloth sliding against cloth, and decided it was time to enter stage right.

Draco Malfoy glided into view, his silver eyes appraising the lifted wand of the Hufflepuff, and the two younger students trying not to look gobsmacked. Too arrogant to understand that a Hufflepuff would have his own semblance of honor, and would even, occasionally, pick a fight against someone strong than himself to protect it.

Taking on the highhanded air that Lucius Malfoy loved to project, Draco asked, "Why is a prefect drawing his wand in the hallways? Are these two being a threat to property or to students?"

"Certainly not to students, no." The Hufflepuff prefect said with an earthy smile, the confidence of which looked a good deal like Neville Longbottom in a drop down dirty fight. "However, they seem to have taken a marked, and unhealthy, interest in this letter."

"Only fools fight over an apple, even one thrown by the gods themselves." Draco Malfoy said, disliking the analogy as he'd finished it, as it implied that the Hufflepuff was greater than he.

The two Gryffs exchanged a confused look, and then Harry said wildly, "Don't believe a word that Slytherin says!" in his typical display of ignorance. No matter that what Draco had said was a mild aid coached as a slight, Potty was about to shove his head down the gift horse's neck.

"Wisdom from a Gryffindor, well, well..." Draco Malfoy said, playing for a bit of time before continuing in his customary drawl, "I suppose there is a first time for everything, truly."

The Hufflepuff made as if to speak, but the cluster of smaller students cut him off. Draco's light tenor sailed above the other two's furious murmurrings. "Your parents were fools, you know. Letting themselves get killed by the Dark Lord." Draco said in a somber tone that echoed meaningfully in the hall outside the Owlry.

The two Gryffs had their wands drawn in an instant. Unmoved, Draco stood insouciantly, saying, "Never believe a word that a Slytherin says, hmm?"

The Hufflepuff looked confused, and then more or less baffled, as the Gryffs moved alternately between confusion, frustration, and general obstancy. Draco shrugged, walked in between the three wands, and entered the owlry, calling for his proud white owl.

*He was seven.

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