Present Day
Looking back, it was undoubtedly his arrogance that kept him alive. It was beautiful really, how that faux confidence was ingrained to the point where he thought himself more capable than what he really was. It was at its peak in his fifth year of Hogwarts, when his self proclaimed title of 'Prince of Slytherin' became official under Umbridge's tutelage. Oh, he knew he was being used, but he was also using the situation for his own means, too. It was what he was good at, and that shiny little badge proclaiming him the leader of the Inquisitorial Squad gave him the highest ranking among the student body. The castle was his, as far as he was concerned, and he relished the authority he yielded.
At the time, he had starting thinking more and more about his potential and he convinced himself that he could stay on top. Becoming a Death Eater didn't incite the fear it once did. He was a Malfoy, and he was respected and feared. The only way to go was up. He could definitely handle it, control it, and thrive when the time drew closer for him to be initiated. Just one more year and he really would be on top of the world.
Youth was glorious in its naivety.
He remembered the intoxicating feeling of his own righteousness. So firmly believing in his own intelligence.
Pride, above all else, was his strength, and it was a beautiful thing to behold.
It was everything, until it was nothing, when the world inevitably fell apart.
~0~
1995
He could understand why she was going this route. It was natural, after all, for resistance to arise in the face of oppression.
He fundamentally understood all that, it was the lack of preemptive security that had him doubting the longevity of this venture. It was Gryffindor rashness, he decided, but still, after their previous experiences he honestly expected more at this point. Especially from Granger.
He continued jotting down the names of the little congregation inside the Hog's Head whilst leaning against the wall outside, next to the cracked window. It was incredibly easy, he hadn't even needed to employ his more stealthy tactics to get what he needed. His motto this year was definitely Knowledge is Wealth. However, he still firmly believed in wealth being wealth, too. His immaculately dressed form in the alley next to the pub attested to that.
It was an interesting bunch, he mused as he finalised the names on the list, charmed, of course, to be only visible to his gaze. He had to hope that Granger had at least thought of something similar on her own parchment. Maybe it was something to discuss with her in the future, he thought as he made his way back to his group.
That evening, whilst lounging on his decadent silk sheets in bed, he mapped out a strategy. The following week, he implemented it.
He had summoned Crabbe and Goyle early from dinner, knowing that the common room would be empty. It was also amusing for him to cut their meal time short; he did so love to exert his control over them in the pettiest of ways.
Goyle kept glancing at him, shifting nervously and waiting for the dramatic silence to end. Draco did love a long build up, so he intentionally kept working on his drawing, which was coming along nicely, he thought. Even amongst the dim greenish glow from the lake as his source of light, he knew it was good. Of course it was.
Crabbe was mostly staring at the marine life, probably wondering what was edible. A lovely image of Crabbe gnawing on a tentacle of some sort popped into his head, a drawing that would definitely happen later, but now, to business.
"Goyle, Crabbe, tomorrow you will collect a hair sample from two Hufflepuff's. Anyone from Second year above will suffice. I need you to tail Chang and Edgecombe for a while, after that, I'll give you more names to follow," he lazily intoned, not bothering to glance up from his sketching.
"Ah, yeah, alright, but for how long? Do you mean follow them all day?" Goyle asked, scrunching his overly large eyebrows together.
"Obviously not," Draco scoffed, "Just after dark. I need to know their movements around the castle, especially who they interact with from the other houses."
Crabbe grunted and nodded, obedient as ever.
"Is this for a Potter thing, Draco? Why don't we just follow him?"
Draco paused and looked up quickly. That was rather bloody insightful for Greg, he'd give him that.
"That's my business, Goyle, but all in good time. I think Hufflepuff girls would work the best, don't you?" He smirked and started to pack away his work, finally perfected. "I'll give you the vials of Polyjuice tomorrow, I'm off to the Owlry." He stood and started to walk away, the shorter the conversation with those two, the better.
"Wait!", Crabbe called out, "that's it? I missed dinner just for that?" He sounded like a whiney five-year-old, back chatting to his father.
Draco thought he needed to work on his petulance, that really was pitiful.
He turned slightly and called out over his shoulder, "Oh, and wear red ribbons, will you? I'll be able to check up on your work more easily that way."
Their murmurings of assent were music to his ears as he left. Now to play the other side of the proverbial coin.
~0~
The Owlery was a cesspool of filth, as per usual, but needs must, so he quietly awaited his owl's arrival from the higher rungs of the tower's ceiling. He did appreciate that his owl had the intelligence to avoid the riff raff on the lower levels. A worthy Malfoy creature indeed.
Unknown, to but a select few, he had two owls that did his bidding. His majestic Eagle Owl, which was always for public display, made it clearly known who its master was, usually drawing attention with its lavish gifts delivered in the Great Hall for maximum effect. His nondescript barn owl was for his more subtle correspondence, and was perfect for the current job at hand; contacting Granger.
He looked over the note once more, eying it with amusement.
Dear Savior of toads,
I believe a critique of my illustration, pictured below, is in order. I find it rather INNformative, don't you?
Regards,
Bad Faith.
Below the script was a drawing of a large pig, drinking a Butterbeer surrounded by little piglets in a derelict looking pub scene. The detail was exquisite and he'd happily spent hours perfecting it.
As he tied the note to the owl's leg he pondered the many different replies he could receive in response.
Let the games begin.
~0~
The next day he received his reply:
Dear Bad Faith,
Speaking of toads.
Regards, Roaring Lion.
The hastily written note included a crudely drawn Umbridge with a ferret stole draped around her neck.
He immediately stuck it into his copy of 'Defensive Magical Theory', covering the image of Wilbert Slinkhard on the inside, much to the image's chagrin. It made his lessons, from then on, much more palatable, an evil grin etched on his face as he opened the book often confusing his classmates around him, as it was invisible to everyone else.
He waited and replied a few days later.
Roaring Lion? Much better.
I do appreciate how noose like that ferret appears, rather fitting, don't you think?
You lose points, overall, for execution.
The shading, what happened? Your skills are lacking.
Rectify immediately.
Bad Faith.
~0~
Her next reply was as equally entertaining as the first.
Speaking of rectifying immediately, I can almost taste the smug in the air when you are in proximity. For the love of Merlin, tone it down!
You are one Educational Decree away from being given a kitty collar and being made Umbridge's new favourite pet.
Regards,
bemused,
but still, Roaring Lion.
~0~
Pets you say? Why, I already have a couple of those myself, Roaring Lion, maybe you could babysit them for me hmm?
Another drawing was included, this time showing what was clearly, Crabbe and Goyle, dressed in skin tight Hufflepuff girls' uniforms with red bows in their hair.
I do believe they like to play on the 7th floor. There's all kinds of fun happening there these days.
Constant vigilance, little lion, constant vigilance.
~0~
Adorable! I will happily babysit them from now on.
I've included a new picture for you, I believe painting may be my forte.
You still need to work on that smug, although I must admit it's growing on me.
Regards to you, not-so-bad-faith
Roaring Lion x
From then on, Crabbe and Goyle had a lot more difficulty in their task, trailing members of Granger's little group. Umbridge was not amused, but he certainly was.
Draco felt it was a success all 'round as he admired his new watercolour painting of a white ferret wrapped in a Gryffindor scarf. It was an unspoken thank you, but he heard it nonetheless.
~0~
If someone had told him, at the beginning of the year, that he would be lounging around an empty classroom admiring Weasley administered chaos, he would've slapped them for foolishness.
As it was, he was in a blissfully relaxed state, hands behind his head, feet propped up on a desk, as he looked through an open window admiring the glittery bursts randomly floating by.
Hogwarts was in a state of multicoloured uproar, and it was one of the best things he had ever seen.
Every level of the castle was subjected to a prank. Some students were sporting bright orange antlers from a mist that had detonated in a full, second year Charms class. Others, in the halls, had been skating gleefully over rainbow ice, not even caring as their bodies turned the same colours on impact with the ground.
His favourite scene so far had been the corridor completely covered in slime that giggled and yelled insults if you were unfortunate enough to pass through it.
Filch was crying in the corner on that level.
Draco had carefully avoided being caught so far, which was why he was happily hiding in an as yet, unaffected classroom. The scale of it all was deeply impressive, the twins having helpers to administer simultaneous attacks in a group scheme.
The planning must have taken months, he mused, and then chuckled as a flyaway arse-shaped rocket zoomed into the room.
Genius, pure genius.
He was going to need a pensieve to replay Umbridge's screeching later. Her face was as fushia as her skirt as she ran screaming through the castle, trying to band together a rather reluctant staff to obtain some order. He even saw Professor Flitwick pocketing some undetonated flower bombs, which mysteriously went off in a courtyard a few moments later. The woman didn't stand a chance with this multi-leveled anarchy.
Hiding was safe, but he did feel the overwhelming curiosity to explore some more, so he left his comfy spot and took a peek through the door to make sure the coast was clear.
He went to step through when he saw one Hermione Granger entering the deserted corridor wearing some sort of wheeled device for shoes, smoothly gliding along.
He leaned against the door jam and crossed his arms, someone was obviously feeling rebellious today.
That's my girl he thought as he watched her gingerly place a small orange box on the ground, and remove her wand. She muttered an incantation and a puddle started to rapidly form from its contents, dissolving the box as it went. It pulsed and spewed forth a geyser of water and mud, coating the floor with the mess, aquatic plants, and water lilies springing up as it grew. She quickly strolled backwards, towards his direction and he smirked as she drew closer reaching out to grab her around the waist before she passed him.
Her adorable little yelp was hilarious and he chuckled, but she panicked when she turned in his grip and speedily rolled to an alcove, dragging him along and warding the small space before the tide reached them.
He watched as the swamp rose to just past knee level, outside the invisible barrier, awe on his face as Granger gasped for breath beside him.
"You idiot, Malfoy! Now we're stuck here! I can't rollerblade out through that!" She angrily admonished him, hands on hips and indignance etched on every feature.
"So that's what those things are, did the twins invent them, too?" he asked, peering down at the wheeled shoes she had reached down to take off. Small clicks sounded as the straps sprung free and echoed around the small space.
"No, these are a Muggle invention," she announced, deliberately emphasising the 'Muggle' with exaggerated sweetness, "They are just for fun and I've been dying to use them in the halls! You've thwarted my quick getaway, Ferret Boy, now we're trapped." He noticed the fondness in her tone as she spoke the nickname. He definitely also took notice of her copy cat smirk.
"Granger, it's Ferret Man," he dragged out with an eyeroll, "And secondly, you're a witch! Just give it an Evanesco and it'll disappear." He raised his wand and aimed it at the water but she quickly jumped on him and flung his wand arm down.
"No! It's a permanent swamp! It'll take months to get rid of it, only the boys know the counter charm. Just leave it, I had one job, Malfoy, one! The swamp stays," she commanded, still clinging to him and trying to stifle a chuckle at her own bossiness.
And just like that, the atmosphere changed when she became just as aware of their proximity as he did.
He slowly, ever so slowly, dragged his other hand from his side to the contour of her thigh, inching upwards and relishing the slow incline. He then, let his hand come to rest on her hip and squeezed gently as he leaned forward, taking care to brush his lips across her jaw before whispering in her ear.
"You can win this one, but I think I'll need reimbursement for my noble act." He finished, with a boyish grin, and nudged his nose against hers, delighted by her wide smile as her hands twined around his neck.
She swayed forwards towards him, and he felt a rush euphoria as she raised up to stand on her toes, her gaze darting to his lips.
And then a giant raspberry was assaulting his ear, an inelegant shout was leaving his mouth, and his forehead was painfully smacking into Granger's.
It all went insurmountably worse, when Peeves started making obscene kissing noises just centimeters from their faces.
"Ooo, what do we have here? Sneaky, sneaky pond scummy adventures!" The mad bugger was wide eyed and rapidly clapping his pearly hands in glee. He then broke out into song, assaulting their ears further.
"Ohh Bushy and Blondy
sittin' in a tree
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
first comes love
of course, of course
but we all know
it's going to
end in divorce!"
He ended with a deranged cackle and promptly threw some sort of goo in their direction, which they luckily dodged. He had the good sense to leave, but Draco was absolutely having words with the Bloody Baron later. Peeves was going to hurt.
A lot.
Granger was in the midst of hysterical laughter and wiped some tears from the corners of her eyes. He gave her some moments to calm down and she eventually looked to him again, her hysteria still ghosting her face.
"I don't know if he was being a realist or an arsehole," she questioned him, tilting her head in appraisal.
"Arsehole," he gritted out between clenched teeth, "definitely an arsehole."
Hermione chuckled and leant her forehead against his chest, giving his biceps a quick squeeze before slowly moving away, dropping the ward and wading out through the pond.
The water rushed into the alcove and promptly soaked his legs in muck. Draco let his head drop back against the stone wall, heaving a drawn out breath through his nose.
Cock blocked by a poltergeist, fantastic.
~0~