Harry leaned back in his bed, writing small, ciphered notes on his dormmates. Habit - Ron had a habit of going through everything that Harry owned, at random - he'd have said "I'm missing something!" or some other genuine, good-hearted reason (like finding a hidden invisibility cloak). Dudley would have done the same, though, if Aunt Petunia hadn't locked up all of Harry's magic things (and Harry himself, often enough). Harry didn't think notes on his dormmates would cause trouble - or even see a raised eyebrow.
Still, Harry Potter would not like other people reading his notes. Harry was certain that most of Draco's notes on him went straight home to his parents (this was not a hard deduction, Draco wrote to his parents daily, and after a while, he had to talk about something or someone. Granger was not included in either of those categories, mind). And that was fine - at least Draco had someone he could trust (mostly, Draco was still scheming behind his parents back - but in Slytherin House, that was an expected part of shedding your skin). It was strange what perspective being an adult put on life. Harry didn't have anyone to trust, to talk to - not like that. Hermione might trust him - but she also didn't know him. She didn't know what Harry looked like flying out of a burning Room of Requirement. She didn't know Harry joined the Aurors for lack of better ideas, and had flat-out hated half the job (oh, the endless paperwork).
Draco Malfoy was a bluffer - leaning forward with an intensity, and gesturing with his offhand, before pushing piles of buttons towards the middle. That wasn't so surprising... He had an instinct, though, for protecting his good hands. "Game Face" wasn't just a name with him. Harry remembered that blank face driving him crazy, last time round - how was Malfoy unaffected. Truth was, that "game face" was a lie. Harry Potter had watched an older Draco Malfoy in front of judges, his hands plastered to the chair - not by the clinging chains, but by his determination to not shift and look nervous.
Nott was a quieter thing - he'd always been, but Harry had assumed he was more like Neville - quiet until you got to know him. Nott looked like he'd be taking just as many notes as Harry did, despite knowing everyone else in the room for years. Nott pushed buttons forward in small groups, the draw poker enabling a slow drip of losing (or winning). Nott could bet big - but he hadn't. Not once. Little button piles (three, five). Harry didn't trust a single note he'd taken on Nott, the bastard was just too canny. He was getting as much (or possibly more) out of the game than Harry was. Nott's bluffing was different than Malfoy's, a calmer play that looked very similar to his "I have a good hand." Nott was a folder, as well - he'd back out of two thirds of the hands, and had had more buttons halfway through than Malfoy, who'd taken to playing smaller buttonpiles once he'd noticed how low he was running (it had taken a while, Malfoy had won an hand or three). Nott's cerebral modes would have served him well in Ravenclaw, although he'd still have been a quiet one there. The Ravenclaws Harry had known had often gotten into artful arguments (though their rhetoric had been poor), and Nott didn't seem the type.
Zambini was the flashy one - he would look cross with the cards when they "betrayed" him, folding quickly and playing big hands with a flair. His eyes would sparkle with delight as he bet. He was... not what Harry'd been told a Slytherin would be like. Zambini was genuinely charismatic, filled with a delight in the world - despite him not wanting to play the cards at all, once they'd started, he'd given it his all. When Zambini laid down a full trash hand, that he'd outbid Nott and Potter and Goyle - and talked them all into folding, he grinned with a childish glee. Malfoy's jaw had dropped, and he'd said, quietly, "you had nothing at all." Then he'd clapped Zambini on the back with such good grace Harry was speechless for a moment. Goyle had simply folded his pair, and said bluntly and simply, "Next Time."
[a/n: yes, I'll be doing Goyle and Crabbe, never fear. Next time, munchkins. Until then, Read and Review, it helps me focus on the stories you like.
Today's writing trick is "describe from afterwards" - it lets me cut out a lot of "this is what draw poker is" and ideally, forces me to put in the key hands. Or at least enough detail that you can imagine the hands. How'd I do? Review and tell me!]
