A/N – Sorry for the long wait guys, I had the most horrible case of writer's block. I'll try to get the next few chapters out faster, since now I know where I want to go with this. :) Also, Teddy Nott makes an appearance in this chapter. His character's not really expanded upon by the wonderful JKR, so I took the artistic liberty of kind of developing his character myself – if you could tell me how you liked/disliked him, that'd be really cool, since I've never really created my own character before. :D And finally, thank you so much to my reviewers! You guys are the best. *HUG*

Treading Water: Chapter 3

Much to Draco's chagrin, losing weight was not as easy as he'd originally thought it would be.

He had initially planned to simply eat less than he normally did – to cut back, eating healthy meals instead of the heaps and heaps of food he usually consumed. But he soon noticed that this was going no where. "How is this possible?" Draco growled, standing in front of his mirror once again, two days after he had started his dieting. He viciously grabbed at his arms, disgusted at how far he was able to pull his skin. Viciously, he struck out at his bedroom wall and then sat down heavily on his bed, nursing his now aching hand. "This is going nowhere," he muttered to himself. "I have to look at this logically…"

Gazing intently at himself through the mirror, Draco reviewed everything he knew about food. People eat food to live. Without food, a person would starve. Food provides the energy needed to function on a day-to-day basis. Different types of food provide different types of energy in the forms of proteins, carbohydrates, vitamins, minerals… fats. Draco sighed and rolled over, turning his gaze to the high ceiling. This energy is measured in calories. As a person goes about their day, they burn a specific amount of calories, and this amount of calories should equal a person's food intake. Draco closed his eyes, thinking harder. If a person eats more calories than the amount they burn – Draco scowled – they will gain weight in the form of fat. But if a person eats less than what they burn, they will lose weight. Draco sighed. "But that's what I've been doing, eating less, and I haven't been losing weight nearly as fast as I have to! Merlin, this is difficult" he moaned. He stood up, looking at himself again. "… I supposes… I have to eat even less…" Almost unbidden, his hands traveled to his torso, pinching, pulling at his skin. A thought struck him then, a solution to his problem – one so simple that he really should have thought of it sooner. "What if I… don't eat anything?" The more he thought about it, the more attractive this proposal became. "If I have a calorie intake of zero, then I'll be sure to burn more than I eat every day – I'll become thinner much faster." Draco took one last look at himself before turning away decisively and redressing. Yes, this will work. I'm positive this time.

Soon, as days often do in the summer, the week had gone by. Draco found his birthday drawing nearer and nearer, and never before had he dreaded a day so much in his life. His initiation as a Death Eater loomed over him, drawing closer and closer with frightening speed. He was terrified, but worse than the fear was having to pretend to look forward to his branding. His father and Aunt were horribly excited, though Lucius was more eager to see the Malfoy name restored to honor, while Bellatrix was mostly delighted at the flash of fear she saw in his pale eyes whenever his birthday was mentioned.

Only Narcissa seemed as worried as Draco was, though she hid it well. And strangely enough, Draco found this quite helpful. Narcissa had taken to retiring early, before dinner had even been served, which gave Draco the opportunity to hastily scrape his food into the rubbish disposal. Though he was now in an almost constant state of dread, he would occasionally reflect proudly upon the fact that he had eaten only a single slice of toast and an apple in five days. And though he wasn't anywhere close to being fit again, he was able to feel the hunger knawing at his stomach and think with a small smile, It's a good start.

So. His birthday was tomorrow. Draco spent the whole day wandering the mansion, desperately searching for anything that would distract him from what was coming. And surprisingly, his mother was the one who provided just that when, halfway through the day, she approached Draco where he sat reading in the mansion's small library and told him that she had re-invited his guests from the other night, and that they would be there within the hour. It's funny, Draco thought weakly, how much I don't mind seeing them now.

And sure enough, less than sixty minutes later the marble living room fireplace was roaring to life with noxious green flames and spitting Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini into Malfoy Manor.

True to her reputation, as soon as Pansy stopped spinning she propelled herself into Draco's less-than-eager arms, squealing, "Ooh, Draco, I've missed you so much!" and knocking the air out of Draco's lungs. Oh dear Merlin, here we go, he groaned mentally. Pansy looked up at him, her pug-like face lighting up as she spoke. "Our family's vacation to Fiji was quite luxurious, I assure you, but I couldn't help thinking of you and missing you the whole time I was away from you!" Here she tightened her grip, and Draco was sure he would never be able to breathe again. She let go then, taking a breath to preen herself, smoothing her nauseatingly fragrant hair, and was about to continue her silliness when she was slammed into by an incoming Blaise Zabini.

Scowling, the tall dark boy glared down at the silly girl. "Watch it, Parkinson, you were in my way."

An enraged Pansy opened her mouth to spew some vicious comeback at the person who had interrupted her alone-time with Draco, but before she could Draco wearily intervened.

"Honestly, you should both have better manners when you've been invited to our manor," Draco drawled acerbically. "What are you, children?" He sneered.

Pansy immediately attempted to redeem herself, spewing some nonsense about how she was sorry, she was just so excited to see him that she forgot herself. Zabini, who obviously did not think much of Draco, darkly – and reluctantly – muttered an apology. Draco sighed. "Since Nott's decided to make us wait for his arrival, I don't see why we should wait for him to start on refreshments." He looked disdainfully at the two of them. "Do either of you want anything?"

Completely oblivious to the waves of dislike radiating from the blonde, she simpered, "Some tea would be wonderful, thanks!" Draco turned to Zabini, eyebrows raised. "I'll have tea too, thanks," he answered coldly.

"Fine," Draco muttered. He had secretly hoped that neither would want anything – it would be weird to not have tea while his two guests had some. It's not that bad, Draco tried to convince himself. At least tea doesn't have any caloric value. It's just flavored water. It's fine.

In less than a minute, a house elf had appeared and set a tray of tea and biscuits on a round table in the parlor, conjured up three high-backed chairs to set around it, and bowed itself out of the room. The three Slytherins sat down, Pansy immediately taking control of the tea kettle and pouring each of them a cup, smiling at Draco as she handed him his and glaring at Blaise as she shoved his cup toward him. Both boys rolled their eyes.

"So, Draco," Pansy said between delicate sips of tea, "what have you been up to this summer so far?" She placed a hand on his arm, and Draco had to use all his self-control not to shove it off. "I bet you've been up to some interesting things! Tell us all about it." She giggled.

Draco scowled. Well, whore, since you asked, this summer my father's been in prison, I've discovered that I'm horribly overweight, have unsuccessfully attempted to avoid my psychotic Aunt, and I'm becoming a Death Eater tomorrow, yes, it's been terribly fun! But of course, he answered: "Parkinson, not all of us like the world to know every single detail of our personal lives." Blaise smirked at this, and Draco continued, "I'll leave my exciting summer up to your imagination." Properly chastised, Pansy blushed and fell silent.

Unexpectedly, a reedy voice said: "I can definitely imagine what your exciting summer has been like." The three seated Slytherins nearly jumped out of their skins and turned, startled, to where the voice had come from. Theodore Nott stood in the doorway, smiling apologetically. "Sorry I scared you three, I should have announced myself first."

His heart still pounding, Draco narrowed his eyes and said sharply, "What are you insinuating, Nott?"

Calmly, Nott pulled up a fourth chair and wedged it between Pansy's and Blaise's, so that he was directly across from Draco. "I'm not really insinuating, per se, I'm just making an educated guess."

"Spit it out Theodore, we're not exactly a patient bunch" Blaise said, eyes narrowing curiously.

Nott smiled thinly. "Well, let's see if I'm right then, shall we?"

Without warning, Nott lunged across the table, grabbing Draco's left arm in a vice-like grip and pulling the sleeve up. The pale, unblemished skin of Draco's forearm almost glowed in the room's soft lighting. For a moment, everyone was too shocked to react in any way… but this passivity did not last long. A second later Draco stood up, yanked his arm away and punched Nott across the face so hard that the weedy teen was sent sprawling. "What the hell are you playing at?" Draco yelled. Pansy and Blaise sat still, wide-eyed. Nott pushed himself off the floor, wiping at his bloody mouth, smiling apologetically – or as well as he could, with a split lip. "Wow, Draco, your fist sure is boney!" Nott said weakly, poking at his lip. "But sorry about that, I was sure you'd been initiated already." He shrugged casually.

"Wh… WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Pansy yelled, her dark eyes flashing as she grabbed Draco's shoulder protectively. "You don't just go around pulling up people's sleeves to see if they're working for the Dark Lord!" Pansy spat, "And if you do, you definitely don't act so casual afterwards!"

Blaise's brows were furrowed. "That was definitely out of line, Theodore. You don't joke about things like that."

Nott scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm sorry." He turned to Draco. "I'm sorry, really, I am. I was just so sure… well, it doesn't matter. I guess you haven't been."

Draco shocked them all by smiling slightly, the motion not quite meeting his eyes. He looked off to the right, at the Malfoy coat of arms that hung on the wall. Toujours Pur – always pure.

"Not yet," he whispered.