In your brown eyes, I was feeling low,
'Cause they're brown eyes and you never know.
Got some brown eyes but I saw her face,I knew that it was wrong,
So baby, turn the record on, play that song.
- Brown Eyes, Lady Gaga
"So Malfoy, what do you play?"
Rolling my eyes, I just want to walk back to the Slytherin house. However, I can tell that Graham is genuinely interested in the answer, so I whip turned around to see him bouncing eagerly behind me.
I really want to ignore him, or tell him that it was none of his business. I'm in no mood for pleasantries, but he's done nothing wrong, so I say shortly: "Piano."
"Really? You pegged me more as an, um, I dunno, but not piano player…Hey, do you think that Astoria will go for me if she sees that I can play the bass really well? I mean now that I have the chance to show her my skills. I know she's a year older than me but she's so good looking and like, I'm pretty good looking, well, maybe a bit better than average, oh, I dunno.."
And he just keeps talking and talking. I find myself getting increasingly annoyed that this boy won't get the hint that I'm not exactly in a chatty mood. Graham sidles up anyways, hands flailing with animation, walking alongside his me without paying attention to my reaction.
By the end of his speech, we've reached the common room. "So what do you think?"
I glance at him tiredly, swinging around on one heel. Striding on without emitting a response. I'm the last person he should be asking about help with girls.
"Malfoy…?"
"I'm going to bed, think about it yourself." Dismissing him, I leave him confused at his apparent dilemma alone at the fireplace.
Sauntering up the stairs and into the now small year 7 dorm, I find Nott already lying in bed, reading a magazine filled with women; Seductress. I shake my head. I've never had the need to stare at large breasts or scantily clad girls, they all have fake spell-modified goods anyways. But I guess I had Pansy to contend with since adolescence so maybe I should feel lucky to have had the experience.
"So? You joining that class then are ya?' Nott asks me without looking away from his pages.
"Yes, I am." I'm suspicious as I pull off his pants and shirt and slide into the dreary old four-poster bed in just my boxers.
Why does he care?
"Yeah, me too." Nott replies robotically, still fixated on a sexy witch from Brazil. Surely not? I hadn't even seen him at the meeting, but then I was late and forced to the front, wasn't I?
I have no words for him, a 'good for you', maybe. But then it'll just sound rude and I think making this arrangement awkward is a bad idea.
Laying my head down on the plush pillow, I give up thinking and try to sleep. It's only about 9:30 homework cannot be done now, nor can I do the only thing I want to do; practice piano. I must admit, I'm seriously excited at the prospect of getting it. I'm planning to get up early to go to the Owlery in the morning and deliver a letter telling mother to send it over straight away. If I can limit my run-ins with the plebians I'll be a right bit happier.
"So what do you play then?" Nott's voice rings out again into the uncomfortable silence.
I sigh, grumbling into my sheets as I roll onto my stomach: "Piano."
"Really? Nice, nice. Wanna know what I play?"
No, I don't. Honestly, I don't care. I find it irksome to try and make small talk with Nott, when before all this we never got on. He's the only seventh year boy here besides me though, ignoring him forever is not an option.
On that note, I seriously still am in disbelief that Goyle, Blaise or Pansy refused to show up. I haven't really missed them much, they'd ignored me for so long even after I wrote them, that I would have no words if I ever were to come face to face with them. But I'll be damned if I'm still a mere mortal, everyone likes having people to talk to.
Maybe it was their parents doing to pull them out of school…that makes the most sense. But I still managed to come and Lucius was one of the worst offenders during the war. God, I`m an idiot. I'm fast regretting this decision every time somebody makes a quipping insult, a loud jeer as I pass them by. I have no arsenal ready behind me, I have no pride left to make my retorts anything more than pathetic.
I wonder if any of the rest of the Slytherins have gone abroad like so many others have done…they can live in less embarrassment then.
"Draco? Can I call you that? Guess what I play!" Nott pops my thought bubble as he continues to try and catch my attention.
No, he may not call me that. Nobody calls him Draco, except my parents and Pansy, who I never could stop from saying it. I realize he's not gonna leave me be.
"What then. What do you play?" I ask exasperated, deciding it best just to go along with him to avoid punching him in the face.
"Drums! It's going to be awesome!" he replies with fervour. I smirk despite myself. It's amusing albeit slightly wary that Nott is so damn enthusiastic about it. But on the bright side, if he's as good as I am, I won't be all by myself in that class, subjected to playing in front of a bunch of neathderthals who want tnothing better than to hate me for what they think I am.
My stomach suddenly clenches at the thought of having to prove my worth with an audience full of hate.
"It should be good. I hope McGonagall doesn't fuck it up, although I will admit she probably has it organized better than any of the other dimwits here could."
"Ouch. You really can't help those insults can you?" Nott laughs, asmile spread wide across his face when I pull my covers down to face him.
I'm somewhat stunned by his comment. I don't even consider that a minor insult by my standards. Guess I need to work on eradicating my jabbing a bit harder.
"Apparently not…why do you play the drums anyways? I thought your parents were thoroughly anti-Muggle."
"Oh, they are. But when I was 13 I was obsessed with the Weird Sisters and my favourite was Orsino Thurston, so here we are now. I wanted to play drums like him. I tapped on the pots and pans in the kitchen, made the house elves loathe me. Besides, if Wizards can have wealthy and famous musicians, then the argument that music is too muggle is a little invalid."
Hmm, never thought of it that way.
But I suppose that since I am partial to Mozart and Liszt, liking foreign old composers instead of what a child 'should', dear old mum and dad were worried about me ditching my heritage and thumbing it to the outskirts of London or something, join a travelling band of classical musicians.
"I guess that's true…Probably need more variety though, only got like five bands to choose from. Anyways, I'm going to sleep. See you in the morning," I yawn involuntarily.
I snuggle into my pillow once again, Nott grunting and throwing his magazine on the bed.
"Well you're no fun. I'm going to go talk to that Astoria chick. I saw her eyeing me up, and she's a hot little number, so it couldn't hurt to try and squeeze in a little action. Night Drakes."
Nott's footsteps bounce happily as his feet hit the staircase.
I shudder at this new nickname; Ugh, Drakes. It was almost like what that Lavender Brown calls Weasley: "Won-Won".
Psh, Won Won. I snort and start laughing silently as I can, happy to be alone and somewhat amused. Dreams overtakes me, and I doze off thinking about how hilarious it's going to be when Nott and Pritchard find out they both fancy Astoria. Neither of them is even good looking…
{}
… So if you could please put a shrinking charm on my piano and send it back with Aquila, I would appreciate it.
Thank you Mother.
Much Love,
Draco.
It's morning time, and I finish of my note. Sealing my letter, grabbing a bit of rope to tie it to Aquila's wiry foot I don my favourite grey coat and striped scarf. I'm ready to go out in the chilled weather. And leave Nott snoring like a congested troll.
It is only 7 am, the earliest classes start at 8:30, so I'm trying to make little noise as I amble down the stairs and through the common room to the hall. I want no interruptions.
It's very strange to be up and about at this hour. I've never actually been out of the dorm this early, let alone my bed. Normally I'm relishing in the warmness of it, normally I can't even get up. But I have a task at hand.
Strolling down the hallway, you could hear a pin drop. Everything is completely silent except for a few ghosts here and there, the occasional student appears, likely off to the library to finish an assignment. The paintings are the only thing alive, figuratively of course, and some question me as I walk through the maze of the castle.
"What are you doing up, Slytherin boy?" One knight in a Scottish field asks, ready to fight me.
"Yes," pipes in a pretty witch sitting beside a harp, "what a peculiar time to be up and dressed to go outside."
"It is none of your business what I do with my time." I huff, still in a groggy daze from this early hour.
I pick up my stride, wanting to get away from these stupid portraits….
"Ooh, testy isn't he? We were just asking a question!" The witch says, her voice trailing as I advance further. "What a fiery boy…."
Shaking my head, I put on my gloves as I reach the exit.
"Brr,'
Damn, it's freezing. I shiver as I push myself out the large front doors and into the chilly breeze.
Bundling up my scarf is the only solace I have, and I push it over my ears, trudging through the snow along the path to the tower. The stone steps are slippery, but I quickly make my way up. Inside the confines of the owlery, all I hear are deafening hoots and scratches of hundreds of owls. The wind howls and licks me as it passes through the windowless panes.
There are at least 35 eagle owl, my bird's breed. I scan the room for at least 5 minutes before giving up and calling out:
"Aquila! Come."
A loud squawk resonates through the room I turn, managing to duck just in the nick of time as my ginormous pet soars overhead.
"Goodness, don't scare me like that," I tell him, holding a hand to my beating heart. I must admit I have a strange attachment to Aquila. I got him when I was about 7 or 8, he was a constant source of companionship I had outside my parents. He's grown very loyal and protective towards me, he's one of the only creatures I could consider a real friend and comfort. The best part about him is that doesn't offer advice or criticisms and could only listen to my woes.
He hoots as he lands on my shoulder, weighing me down basically with how slight I've become. 2 ½ ft he is, one of the largest that many have ever seen.
"Been hiding from me huh? Don't want to venture out in this coldness? Well sorry my fine feathered friend, but you must deliver ASAP."
"…Is someone in here?" says a girls voice at the archway.
Oh god, I've been petting him shamelessly, talking to him like a human being.
I shift startled, turning a shade of pink. I know I sound like a right idiot, fawning all over him. I hoped that whoever is there has not heard me.
Into the room Cho Chang comes sprawling in. As soon as she sees me her eyes widen, and she cowers, stopping in her tracks.
"Yes?" I snap, somewhat annoyed at her response to me.
What does she think I'm going to do?
"I just…was going to…?"
Aquila lets out a loud "HOO", and Cho jumps rather comically with fright, out of her wits.
Honestly, it's as if I'm holding a wand to her head.
"Spit it out, I'm not going to hex you for Merlin's sake." I urge as she composes herself, stifling a mirthless laugh.
"I just needed to grab a friend's owl….because she has been sick lately and we have to take her to H-Hagrid. Before class starts."
Well what was all the fuss about, then?, I wonder shaking my head.
Cho hastily glances around the room much in the fashion that I did looking for her owl. I survey her, watching her spots a bright red one at the left. She swoops it up into her grip and jogs hastily out of the room.
"What, no goodbye?" I smirk, whirling around once again.
I place Aquila down on a small wooden table with a bowl of treats and fish out my request…but of course I am unable to retrieve it.
"Blast." I curse the dropping temperature as I shake off my coat and search through its many hidden pockets, (an anti-theft device made by the designer, just in case).
I hear footsteps behind me, being disturbed once again. I huff, however this time I concentrate on finding my parchment rather than the other visitor. It's probably Cho again, didn't grab the right bloody owl.
"Ahh!"
The shriek makes me flinch, dropping my jacket to the floor. Who the hell is so offended by my presence they must cause a foul scene?
I turn to witness Hermione Granger standing in the doorway, the source of the noise, a hand clutched to her chest.
Her cheeks are flushed, her hair sticking out at all ends from under her beanie. I don't think I've often seen her that surprised.
"Oh, it's just you Granger." I say relieved, attempting to be nonchalant, my interrupter revealed. "Nearly gave me a heart attack woman."
Granger turns a dark shade of red, mumbling, "You just scared me, I didn't know you were in here..."
I love that she said that she was frightened 'you' were in here specifically, not just somebody.
I ignore her, shoving my numbing hands into the pocket of my trousers for the piece of twine, wanting to prepare Aquila before the note. I feel the rope in my hands, and along with it the letter at my fingertips. Well, hallelujah.
"Finally…"`
I blow on my hands for some heat and bend down for my jacket, saving myself from the cold. Granger is bold I find, she stuns me with her coolness of plunking down a barn owl onto the same table as Aquila. Her bird pecks and nibbles at the treats upon in, apparently famished.
Without speaking, we do the owl tying business. Until, that is, she shocks me again.
"So…" she stops when she notices my scrunched eyebrows.
She actually spoke to me, was going to anyhow. Starting a conversation and saying something that isn't impolite to me?
"So…?" I imitate her.
"Um" she gulps nervously, wiggling her legs. "Are you writing to your parents as well? To get your instrument for the class?"
Then she adds, "The music class I mean," in case I was as thick as a doughnut.
My face turns sour at her question. Is she trying to keep tabs on me for Potter?
"As a matter of fact I am, Granger. Why do you care?" I inquire bluntly.
"I just…" she is choosing her words carefully, but stops. Yes, definitely a reason for the small talk. Since when has she found me tolerable?
Something must be wrong with her. I shrug and then set my magnificent animal on an arm.
"Have a safe flight will you?" I murmured lovingly to the bird before thrusting upwards and sending him off into the morning sunlight.
"Is that…a bubo bubo? A Eurasian Eagle Owl?" the girl to my right bursts out expertly, before she can stop herself it seems. "Those are very rare, and hard to catch! One of the largest of its kind."
I glance at her puzzled once again. Why is she telling me shit I already know? Or is this her version of being friendly?
Dryly I reply, "Yes it is. He's mine. Maybe if you got rid of that mangy cat of yours you could have one too."
She gives me a scathing look, as if to say, I was only trying to be nice, you git.
To be honest, I was teasing her more than insulting her, but obviously because it's me I'm being a dick. She picks up the common barn owl she was using and sets it free too, lips pursed.
Much to her dismay, the envelope she attached comes loose and before the owl has flown away, the letter tied to its leg has come loose. It's swooping around the Owlery and rousing the birds, all of them eager and wanting to deliver it.
"Oh no!" she groans, jumping all around trying to retrieve it. It keeps getting caught in the bursts of air coming in and out through the windows. I fail at repressing a laughed and begin to leave the room; no my problem.
Yet suddenly, before I know it she's gotten so close to me in her flustered state that she hasn't realized where she's been stepping until it's too late.
She falls on top of me, pushing me hard onto my back after skimming a shoe with mine. We tumble to the ground, no control of our bodies. My first instinct is to blow my top off, hitting my shoulders and skull against the wooden floor hurt. But she's observing my eyes, embarrassed and apologetic, waiting for a reaction as her chest pushes in and out from the excursion. My expression softens at her clear vulnerability and her hazel eyes turn from mortification to confusion. She manages to push herself up with her hands, untangling her legs from mine. She accidentally trails her hands along my sides as she stands, a surge of something deep in the pit of his stomach at the contact. Something I'm not sure I understand or like…
Granger is at a loss for words as she regains balance and sees her envelope lying on the ground. She quickly lunges to pick it up and whistles for another owl, wasting no time. A grey one flies to her and she mutters instructions to him. It picks up the letter in its beak instead of having it tied to its leg, and off it goes, her second attempt successful.
By this time I'm standing upright, dusting off and barely concentrating enough to be upset my expensive clothes are somewhat ruined. I'm still fixed on the strange emotions I just experienced.
"Malfoy..?" She utters as she's about to leave. Why is she still talking to me?
"Yes?"
One hand placed on the side of the archway, and facing away from the direction I'm looking her body language indicates that she is unsure if she should speak and too shamefaced to regard me.
I watch her expectantly, waiting for a follow-up to her own question.
"I'm sorry."
And then she disappears.
Sorry for what? It was clearly an accident.
Was she sorry she basically felt me up? Invaded my personal space? Maybe she hasn't realized she did so…..And if she did know, why would she be sorry? Did she regret touching me? Well, probably, but that wasn't the point. I didn't get angry, show any disgust.
I'm not a bigoted piece of garbage anymore, surely if she's speaking to me properly, she realizes that?
I shake my head, troubled. I button up the rest of his coat, glad I can finally leave the damn place, and go snuggle up in bed, thinking I'll skive History and wait until Astronomy at 11:30, something Granger isn't taking with me.
"Girls."