The Value of Pie
Title: The Value of Pie
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 3,000 (Good lord, I have a problem)
Warnings: Weird stuff happens. I don't know why. Draco centric- although Harry does exist here.
Summary: There's not a problem in the world pie can't solve. Random, slightly mad fic. Features a surprise appearance, but not really. A prequel to my oneshot A New Man.
Author's notes: Once upon a time, there was a fantabulous reader called fantasyfiend09 who made fanfiction worth writing with all her lovely reviews and encouragement. One day she asked me to write a prequel for a silly little oneshot I once wrote titled A New Man. So I wrote her this mad, giant and very random ficlet for her birthday. I hope she'll like it, even if it has to be the craziest, most outlandish, bordering on crack thing I have ever written. Happy belated birthday, you lovely thing! Gods, I hope I didn't mess this one up...
“You sure you wanna get off here, mate? This neighbourhood ain’t exactly magic friendly like, ya know.”
“I’ll manage.”
“Your funeral. Hey, what you say your name was again?”
“I didn’t. Now stop this death trap so I can collect my stomach and get the hell off.”
“Fine, fine. Don’t have to bite my head off, do ya? Fourteen Sickles.”
Draco Malfoy sneered and palmed out the last of his wizard money into Stan Shunpike’s grubby hand. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as the boy’s hand closed around it. This was it. Now he couldn’t go back even if he wanted to. It had taken every last bit of his meagre courage to leave his wand behind but he couldn’t risk anyone tracking his magical signature. He had covered his tracks effectively.
There was no way Father would find him now.
Steeling himself, he stepped out into the Muggle world for the first time in his sixteen years. As he stood on the curb watching the Knight Bus hurtle off into the darkness, he was able to register one single thought.
This really sucked.
****
“Your coffee will be out in a second, luv. You need anything else?”
Draco took a deep breath. Twenty minutes living anonymously amongst muggles and they were already getting on his nerves. Stopping at this stupid coffee house had been a bad idea.
“No, thank you” he gritted “For the fifth time in ten minutes.”
The simpering waitress giggled and twirled a strand of hair in her fingers. “Just trying to be nice, cutie. How about some pie? We have an excellent selection, you know.” She batted her lashes and leaned over him.
Draco’s patience wore out.
“Tell you what” he snapped “If I want something old and stale, I’ll ask you out.” If her outraged “Well!”and subsequent stomping off was any indication, she wouldn’t be bothering him anymore. Draco smirked in satisfaction.
Finally. Now maybe he could sulk in peace and…
“You know she’s going to spit in your coffee, right?”
Apparently not. Draco groaned. Did all muggles have something against the concept of personal space? He counted down to ten before turning to address his latest predicament. A tall, happy sort was standing in front of him, grinning so widely that Draco took a couple of seconds just to process the sheer display of teeth. He was dressed in those shabby denim trousers muggles seemed to favor and his overgrown hair fell over his eyes so he had to shake his head vigorously to dislodge it every five seconds. The overall impression Draco got was of a large, friendly crup.
Draco disliked crups.
“I’ll keep that in mind” he retorted coldly, hoping the bloke would take the hint and sod off.
“Fantastic! Now budge over.”
“Wha…hey!” He gaped as his uninvited guest plonked himself at his table. The man had the audacity to grin and shove a plate in his face. “Here, kid. Have some pie.”
“Why does everyone keep offering me pie?” Draco demanded indignantly, glaring around the offered plate “I don’t want pie, you crazy idiot! Get off my table!”
“Now you’re just being silly” the man scoffed “Everyone wants pie. In fact,” he lowered his voice and leaned in conspirationally “it’s been statistically proven that eighty three percent of all people in a ten kilometre radius want a piece of blueberry pie at any given time.”
Draco blinked. “No, it hasn’t” he finally refuted, trying to sound like he was sure of himself. Percentages always threw him off.
“Probably not” his companion shrugged. “Still awesome though. So grab a fork Blondie, and then we can talk about this whole running away business.”
Draco started violently and upset his coffee cup with a clatter. “I’m…I’m not running away.” How the fuck did he know?
Discerning, brown eyes gave him a critical once over. “Let’s see…you’re lost, you’re angry and you’re in a coffee house at eleven in the night. You’re either a runaway or a truck driver and no offence kid, but I really can’t see you behind the wheel of a Navara.”
Draco wasn’t entirely sure what half of that meant, but the fact that even this lunatic could see through him was depressing. “Fine, you got me” he muttered, picking a fork and poking dejectedly at the pie. “I’m running away. What do you care?”
His unusual friend seemed unperturbed. “Someone should” he shrugged easily. Draco watched in disbelief as he shovelled in more pie before turning back. “So Blondie, this is the part where you tell me all your problems and I -being absolutely amazing- show you the error of your ways and change your life forever.”
Draco gave him a flat look. “So this is a regular thing with you? You just walk round accosting innocent people and haranguing them until they do what you want?”
“Mostly eighteen to twenty five year old girls. But I use my powers for good too.”
Despite himself, Draco managed a bemused smirk. “You’re barking mad.” He got an overly bright grin in response and gave up trying to make sense of this. In for a Galleon, in for a Knut…its not like he had anything better to do anyway. Shrugging, he picked up a fork and dug into the pie.
“That’s it, kid. Embrace the pie. There’s not a bloody problem in the world pie can’t solve.”
Draco couldn’t help it. He snorted.
“I’m serious” the man insisted “All you need is pie. Trust me.”
Draco shook his head, in complete disbelief. “That’s absolutely insane. You can’t possibly believe that!”
“You have to have faith in something. Might as well be pie.”
Draco refused to give in to this madness. “Pie can’t solve my problems” he announced stubbornly.
“You didn’t even give it a chance!” the other replied, pointing an accusing fork at Draco. “You ran away!”
“I had to run away!” Draco bristled defensively. Who was this stranger to tell him what he should and shouldn’t have done? As if he knew…as if even had an inkling of what Draco was going through…what would have happened if he had stayed…
The man held his stand stubbornly. “That’s a lousy excuse. No one has to run away.”
“I did!”
“Why?”
“Why? Why? I’ll tell you why!” Draco snarled, his temper finally getting the better of him “I had to run away from the only home I have ever known because the man I call Father wants me to join a fucking cult! He wants me to hand my life over to a fucking madman! He wants me to kill! Do you understand what that is? Do you know what that’s like? He…he didn’t even…he wouldn’t even listen…and…you have no idea and….and why am I talking to you about this? You don't even know...you can't understand...”
He swiped angrily at his eyes, trying to ignore the raw choking in his throat. Taking a deep breath, he turned to glare at his companion. “Try solving that with pie” he snapped, clenching his fists and trying to calm down.
There was absolute silence, except for the sound of Draco’s heavy breathing. Tension filled the very air he breathed. And then…
“Oh come on! That’s easy. Sheesh Blondie, at least give me a challenge.”
Draco gaped at the grinning loon seated across him. How could anyone be so bloody annoying? “You have exactly ten seconds to explain what the hell you mean before I stab you with this fork,” he deadpanned.
“Violent much? If you ask me, you’ll make an excellent murdering psychopath. Maybe you should try for cult president.”
“Oh, you’re funny. Is this the part where you solve all my problems?”
“No. This is where I tell you to get a hold of yourself, go home and tell your old man that you’re not doing this. No way in hell.”
“Or you could save us both some time and kill me in the most painful way possible right now. Here’s a fork.”
He was surprised when the man chuckled. “You’re funny too, kid. Guess it runs in the family.”
He went on, before Draco could ask what he meant by that. “Look, the way I see it you can run. Maybe they’ll catch up to you, and maybe they won’t. But you’ll be looking over your shoulder all your life. You don’t want that kind of life. Trust me, I know.”
Draco swallowed thickly. “You don’t know my father,” he whispered.
“Maybe not. But I know you. You’re not a killer.”
Draco wavered. He wanted to…he did. Maybe he could go back. There were places he could go for help….maybe, just maybe he didn’t have to run. Suddenly a thought struck him and he slumped back with an air of defeat. He had left his wand behind and finished the last of his Sickles. All he had was a little bit of Muggle money. There was no way to get back even if he wanted to. That had been his master plan after all. He should have known it would come back to bite him in the arse.
“I can’t go back” he muttered with a guilty shrug “I sort of…closed off all the exits.”
The man didn’t seem undeterred. “All right, then do me a favour and promise me this. If you find a way to go back home and face up to your father, if you get the slightest chance to go and reclaim your life, you’ll take it. You won’t run away and you won’t hide the rest of your life. You’re too good for that. Can you do that for me, Blondie?”
Draco scrubbed his face wearily and sighed. “I can’t believe I’m getting talked into this.”
“Weird. The eighteen year old girl said the same thing.”
Draco chuckled. “Idiot” he grinned, poking idly at the pie again. “This has been the weirdest night of my life.”
“Trust me. It gets weirder.”
“I believe you. Hey, you know what I just realised?” He looked up into the man’s laughing brown eyes again. “I sat here all night sharing my sordid life story with you and I don’t even know your name.”
“Eh. You don’t need my name.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “If I ever get home and my Father kills me, I want to know who I’m coming back to haunt. Come on, what’s your name?”
That drew another chuckle and a shrug from his companion. Brown eyes glinted laughingly. “If you must know, my friends call me Padfoot.”
“Padfoot?” Draco scoffed “Did you lose a bet or something?”
“Brat. You’ll be fine. Remember- not a thing in the world pie can’t solve.” Draco rolled his eyes and Padfoot smiled at him. He reached out and squeezed Draco’s shoulder hesitantly…in an almost paternal sort of way. “You’re a great kid. I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to get to know you before.”
Draco was just about to ask what he was talking about when he felt a sharp tap on his shoulder. He turned away from Padfoot and found himself staring at the waitress from before. She scowled back, looking quite sullen. “You can’t sit here all night, pretty boy” she snipped. “Here’s your bill.”
“Fine” Draco replied “I’m paying for both of us.”
“Both of who?”
Draco turned to gesture at Padfoot and his eyes widened. “Where did he go?” he croaked, staring at the vacant space next to him. But Padfoot was…he was just here! He’d just been sitting right here…right? Had he been dreaming or something? The waitress snapped him out of his whirling thoughts.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re going on about, all right? You’ve been sitting here alone, looking all zoned out for about half the night. And you didn’t even touch your coffee! Now you’re paying and leaving! And don’t even think about tipping me with that weird foreign money!” she added, pointing accusingly at his table.
Draco’s gaze followed her finger and he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. It welled up inside and when it left him, he felt like a better, stronger person. Because right there, in front of him were fourteen silver Sickles.
Not a problem in the world pie can’t solve.
He was still grinning when he turned back to the waitress.
“Hey, could you pack up another pie to go? Make it blueberry.”
“You want a blueberry pie at three in the morning? Are you mental?”
“It’s a statistically proven fact that eighty three percent of people in a ten kilometre radius want a blueberry pie at any given time. Now hurry up. I have a bus to catch.”
****
“Where have you been all night, Draco?”
Draco kept a firm hold on the parcel he was carrying. Ridiculously, it helped his state of mind. In any other situation that look on his Father’s face would have him running screaming for the nearest exit. Nevertheless, it was pie that was keeping him firmly anchored to his resolve, and Draco was happy for it.
“I asked you a question, boy” Lucius hissed at him, his teeth clenched in barely controlled fury. “Where have you been all night?”
Draco swallowed. “Well Father” he voiced carefully “I’m not really sure about anything right now but to the best of my knowledge, I spent the night in a muggle coffee house arguing with a ghost about the merits of pie. Speaking of which, do you want some?”
It had sounded better in his head. Lucius went an abnormal shade of white, his eyes slitting menacingly. He scowled at the pie as if it had done him a personal disservice by existing and then turned his baleful glare on Draco. “Have you gone mad?” he demanded.
“Considering the things that happened to me tonight, quite possibly” Draco conceded fairly. If this was bravery, he wasn’t sure he was doing it right. The look on Lucius’ face was close to apoplectic and had he not been worried about dropping the pie, Draco would certainly have been running by now.
“You are a disgrace” Lucius spat out, practically shaking with rage “A waste of pure blood!”
“Actually, I have it from a reliable source that I’m a great kid,” Draco shot back. He took a deep breath. It was now or never. Padfoot, you better be right about this. “Which reminds me, thank you for the offer and all but I don’t…I don’t think I’ll be taking the Mark after all. The whole psychotic killer bit is just not my thing, if you get what I mean.”
“You don’t have a choice” Lucius spat maliciously. “You are my son, you belong to me! And you will do as I say!”
“I won’t kill, Father. Not for you or anyone else.” The world was still spinning, the heavens hadn’t crashed down and there was no fire raining from the sky. Apparently, he had talked back to his father and the universe hadn’t imploded. Huh. This felt alright, actually.
“I’m not a killer, Father” he repeated, looking his sire in the eye and wondering for the first time in his life if Gryffindors had something going for them after all. Maybe he owed Potter an apology.
Nah, no need to get ludicrous...
Lucius didn’t seem to share his sentiments. “Get out” he snarled “Get out of this house and don’t come back until you’ve seen sense!”
“Well then” Draco shrugged “I guess I’m not coming back.” He stared evenly at Lucius. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad I returned. Walking away from you is easier than running away. Goodbye, Father.”
“Disgrace!” Lucius hissed “I should have strangled you at birth, you pathetic failure! You waste! You…”
Draco grit his teeth and his fists clenched around the pie. He could feel the delicate pastry cracking under the pressure of his fingers. And suddenly, he was seized by an urge of insane, suicidal inspiration. It struck fear into his very core, but he also knew that if he did this, he could do anything.
Padfoot, you better be watching.
“You know Father” he said, taking a step towards his raging sire “There’s this new theory I can’t stop thinking about. There’s not a problem in the world pie can’t solve. Any thoughts?”
“You have gone mad” Lucius muttered disgustedly.
“I hope so” Draco agreed, nodding sagely “Because if I’m not, I have no excuse for this!”
And with that, Draco Malfoy lifted the entire serving of blueberry pie with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles and thrust it in his father’s face. It all happened in seconds. There was a most satisfying splat, Lucius let loose a yell that would have shamed a troll, the pastry cracked and crumbled in his hands and the whipped cream squirted through his fingers.
And he couldn't care less because he was throwing a pie in Father’s face and Lucius was howling obscenities and suddenly he was a sixteen year old boy who was free. He was condemned and probably fated to die a horrible, painful death if Lucius Malfoy ever had his way, but he was free. And it felt fantastic.
He laughed in sheer wonder, shook his head in disbelief and took in one more second to soak in the sight of his regal overbearing Father wearing dessert. And then Lucius snarled and pulled out his wand, and Draco ran as if werewolves were chasing him.
****
So this was what the Burrow looked like from inside. It wasn’t that bad, Draco conceded grudgingly. Although he sincerely hoped they weren’t planning on using this place for their Order Headquarters or whatever. The bloody roof was about to collapse, for Merlin’s sake. His sudden arrival had caused enough of a stir anyway.
Idly he picked up a set of Extendable Ears (fantastic things, really- who knew those oafish twins could develop something so ridiculously useful) to eavesdrop on the scintillating conversation in the next room.
“I say we kill him.”
“We can’t kill someone for showing up at the door, Ron.”
“Says you, ‘Mione. Harry agrees with me, right? Harry?”
“Well, Harry?”
“Um…”
“Harry! Come on, mate!”
“Look, its just…I know its ridiculous. Merlin, I know! But he sounds... sincere. Barking mad, but sincere.”
“Everyone deserves a second chance, Ronald.”
“Not Malfoy! How do you know he’s not a spy or something? He could be planning to hand Harry over to You-Know-Who this second!”
“All I know is, if we can save anyone from Voldemort- even Malfoy- I want to.”
“That’s very mature of you, Harry.”
“Hermione, stop encouraging him! This is mad! It’s insane! Its Malfoy and I am not going to…”
“He brought a pie.” Potter’s tone was a mixture of incredulous and amused.
“Pie? What kind of pie?”
“Blueberry, I think. With chocolate sprinkles.”
“Oh.” Weasley seemed to be mulling things over. “Well, I guess he can stay. For now. But I’m keeping an eye on him and nobody tells me otherwise!”
Draco grinned as he shucked away the Extendable Ears and leaned back on the sofa.
Not a problem in the world that pie can’t solve.
Thanks, Padfoot.
END
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 3,000 (Good lord, I have a problem)
Warnings: Weird stuff happens. I don't know why. Draco centric- although Harry does exist here.
Summary: There's not a problem in the world pie can't solve. Random, slightly mad fic. Features a surprise appearance, but not really. A prequel to my oneshot A New Man.
Author's notes: Once upon a time, there was a fantabulous reader called fantasyfiend09 who made fanfiction worth writing with all her lovely reviews and encouragement. One day she asked me to write a prequel for a silly little oneshot I once wrote titled A New Man. So I wrote her this mad, giant and very random ficlet for her birthday. I hope she'll like it, even if it has to be the craziest, most outlandish, bordering on crack thing I have ever written. Happy belated birthday, you lovely thing! Gods, I hope I didn't mess this one up...
“You sure you wanna get off here, mate? This neighbourhood ain’t exactly magic friendly like, ya know.”
“I’ll manage.”
“Your funeral. Hey, what you say your name was again?”
“I didn’t. Now stop this death trap so I can collect my stomach and get the hell off.”
“Fine, fine. Don’t have to bite my head off, do ya? Fourteen Sickles.”
Draco Malfoy sneered and palmed out the last of his wizard money into Stan Shunpike’s grubby hand. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as the boy’s hand closed around it. This was it. Now he couldn’t go back even if he wanted to. It had taken every last bit of his meagre courage to leave his wand behind but he couldn’t risk anyone tracking his magical signature. He had covered his tracks effectively.
There was no way Father would find him now.
Steeling himself, he stepped out into the Muggle world for the first time in his sixteen years. As he stood on the curb watching the Knight Bus hurtle off into the darkness, he was able to register one single thought.
This really sucked.
****
“Your coffee will be out in a second, luv. You need anything else?”
Draco took a deep breath. Twenty minutes living anonymously amongst muggles and they were already getting on his nerves. Stopping at this stupid coffee house had been a bad idea.
“No, thank you” he gritted “For the fifth time in ten minutes.”
The simpering waitress giggled and twirled a strand of hair in her fingers. “Just trying to be nice, cutie. How about some pie? We have an excellent selection, you know.” She batted her lashes and leaned over him.
Draco’s patience wore out.
“Tell you what” he snapped “If I want something old and stale, I’ll ask you out.” If her outraged “Well!”and subsequent stomping off was any indication, she wouldn’t be bothering him anymore. Draco smirked in satisfaction.
Finally. Now maybe he could sulk in peace and…
“You know she’s going to spit in your coffee, right?”
Apparently not. Draco groaned. Did all muggles have something against the concept of personal space? He counted down to ten before turning to address his latest predicament. A tall, happy sort was standing in front of him, grinning so widely that Draco took a couple of seconds just to process the sheer display of teeth. He was dressed in those shabby denim trousers muggles seemed to favor and his overgrown hair fell over his eyes so he had to shake his head vigorously to dislodge it every five seconds. The overall impression Draco got was of a large, friendly crup.
Draco disliked crups.
“I’ll keep that in mind” he retorted coldly, hoping the bloke would take the hint and sod off.
“Fantastic! Now budge over.”
“Wha…hey!” He gaped as his uninvited guest plonked himself at his table. The man had the audacity to grin and shove a plate in his face. “Here, kid. Have some pie.”
“Why does everyone keep offering me pie?” Draco demanded indignantly, glaring around the offered plate “I don’t want pie, you crazy idiot! Get off my table!”
“Now you’re just being silly” the man scoffed “Everyone wants pie. In fact,” he lowered his voice and leaned in conspirationally “it’s been statistically proven that eighty three percent of all people in a ten kilometre radius want a piece of blueberry pie at any given time.”
Draco blinked. “No, it hasn’t” he finally refuted, trying to sound like he was sure of himself. Percentages always threw him off.
“Probably not” his companion shrugged. “Still awesome though. So grab a fork Blondie, and then we can talk about this whole running away business.”
Draco started violently and upset his coffee cup with a clatter. “I’m…I’m not running away.” How the fuck did he know?
Discerning, brown eyes gave him a critical once over. “Let’s see…you’re lost, you’re angry and you’re in a coffee house at eleven in the night. You’re either a runaway or a truck driver and no offence kid, but I really can’t see you behind the wheel of a Navara.”
Draco wasn’t entirely sure what half of that meant, but the fact that even this lunatic could see through him was depressing. “Fine, you got me” he muttered, picking a fork and poking dejectedly at the pie. “I’m running away. What do you care?”
His unusual friend seemed unperturbed. “Someone should” he shrugged easily. Draco watched in disbelief as he shovelled in more pie before turning back. “So Blondie, this is the part where you tell me all your problems and I -being absolutely amazing- show you the error of your ways and change your life forever.”
Draco gave him a flat look. “So this is a regular thing with you? You just walk round accosting innocent people and haranguing them until they do what you want?”
“Mostly eighteen to twenty five year old girls. But I use my powers for good too.”
Despite himself, Draco managed a bemused smirk. “You’re barking mad.” He got an overly bright grin in response and gave up trying to make sense of this. In for a Galleon, in for a Knut…its not like he had anything better to do anyway. Shrugging, he picked up a fork and dug into the pie.
“That’s it, kid. Embrace the pie. There’s not a bloody problem in the world pie can’t solve.”
Draco couldn’t help it. He snorted.
“I’m serious” the man insisted “All you need is pie. Trust me.”
Draco shook his head, in complete disbelief. “That’s absolutely insane. You can’t possibly believe that!”
“You have to have faith in something. Might as well be pie.”
Draco refused to give in to this madness. “Pie can’t solve my problems” he announced stubbornly.
“You didn’t even give it a chance!” the other replied, pointing an accusing fork at Draco. “You ran away!”
“I had to run away!” Draco bristled defensively. Who was this stranger to tell him what he should and shouldn’t have done? As if he knew…as if even had an inkling of what Draco was going through…what would have happened if he had stayed…
The man held his stand stubbornly. “That’s a lousy excuse. No one has to run away.”
“I did!”
“Why?”
“Why? Why? I’ll tell you why!” Draco snarled, his temper finally getting the better of him “I had to run away from the only home I have ever known because the man I call Father wants me to join a fucking cult! He wants me to hand my life over to a fucking madman! He wants me to kill! Do you understand what that is? Do you know what that’s like? He…he didn’t even…he wouldn’t even listen…and…you have no idea and….and why am I talking to you about this? You don't even know...you can't understand...”
He swiped angrily at his eyes, trying to ignore the raw choking in his throat. Taking a deep breath, he turned to glare at his companion. “Try solving that with pie” he snapped, clenching his fists and trying to calm down.
There was absolute silence, except for the sound of Draco’s heavy breathing. Tension filled the very air he breathed. And then…
“Oh come on! That’s easy. Sheesh Blondie, at least give me a challenge.”
Draco gaped at the grinning loon seated across him. How could anyone be so bloody annoying? “You have exactly ten seconds to explain what the hell you mean before I stab you with this fork,” he deadpanned.
“Violent much? If you ask me, you’ll make an excellent murdering psychopath. Maybe you should try for cult president.”
“Oh, you’re funny. Is this the part where you solve all my problems?”
“No. This is where I tell you to get a hold of yourself, go home and tell your old man that you’re not doing this. No way in hell.”
“Or you could save us both some time and kill me in the most painful way possible right now. Here’s a fork.”
He was surprised when the man chuckled. “You’re funny too, kid. Guess it runs in the family.”
He went on, before Draco could ask what he meant by that. “Look, the way I see it you can run. Maybe they’ll catch up to you, and maybe they won’t. But you’ll be looking over your shoulder all your life. You don’t want that kind of life. Trust me, I know.”
Draco swallowed thickly. “You don’t know my father,” he whispered.
“Maybe not. But I know you. You’re not a killer.”
Draco wavered. He wanted to…he did. Maybe he could go back. There were places he could go for help….maybe, just maybe he didn’t have to run. Suddenly a thought struck him and he slumped back with an air of defeat. He had left his wand behind and finished the last of his Sickles. All he had was a little bit of Muggle money. There was no way to get back even if he wanted to. That had been his master plan after all. He should have known it would come back to bite him in the arse.
“I can’t go back” he muttered with a guilty shrug “I sort of…closed off all the exits.”
The man didn’t seem undeterred. “All right, then do me a favour and promise me this. If you find a way to go back home and face up to your father, if you get the slightest chance to go and reclaim your life, you’ll take it. You won’t run away and you won’t hide the rest of your life. You’re too good for that. Can you do that for me, Blondie?”
Draco scrubbed his face wearily and sighed. “I can’t believe I’m getting talked into this.”
“Weird. The eighteen year old girl said the same thing.”
Draco chuckled. “Idiot” he grinned, poking idly at the pie again. “This has been the weirdest night of my life.”
“Trust me. It gets weirder.”
“I believe you. Hey, you know what I just realised?” He looked up into the man’s laughing brown eyes again. “I sat here all night sharing my sordid life story with you and I don’t even know your name.”
“Eh. You don’t need my name.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. “If I ever get home and my Father kills me, I want to know who I’m coming back to haunt. Come on, what’s your name?”
That drew another chuckle and a shrug from his companion. Brown eyes glinted laughingly. “If you must know, my friends call me Padfoot.”
“Padfoot?” Draco scoffed “Did you lose a bet or something?”
“Brat. You’ll be fine. Remember- not a thing in the world pie can’t solve.” Draco rolled his eyes and Padfoot smiled at him. He reached out and squeezed Draco’s shoulder hesitantly…in an almost paternal sort of way. “You’re a great kid. I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to get to know you before.”
Draco was just about to ask what he was talking about when he felt a sharp tap on his shoulder. He turned away from Padfoot and found himself staring at the waitress from before. She scowled back, looking quite sullen. “You can’t sit here all night, pretty boy” she snipped. “Here’s your bill.”
“Fine” Draco replied “I’m paying for both of us.”
“Both of who?”
Draco turned to gesture at Padfoot and his eyes widened. “Where did he go?” he croaked, staring at the vacant space next to him. But Padfoot was…he was just here! He’d just been sitting right here…right? Had he been dreaming or something? The waitress snapped him out of his whirling thoughts.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re going on about, all right? You’ve been sitting here alone, looking all zoned out for about half the night. And you didn’t even touch your coffee! Now you’re paying and leaving! And don’t even think about tipping me with that weird foreign money!” she added, pointing accusingly at his table.
Draco’s gaze followed her finger and he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. It welled up inside and when it left him, he felt like a better, stronger person. Because right there, in front of him were fourteen silver Sickles.
Not a problem in the world pie can’t solve.
He was still grinning when he turned back to the waitress.
“Hey, could you pack up another pie to go? Make it blueberry.”
“You want a blueberry pie at three in the morning? Are you mental?”
“It’s a statistically proven fact that eighty three percent of people in a ten kilometre radius want a blueberry pie at any given time. Now hurry up. I have a bus to catch.”
****
“Where have you been all night, Draco?”
Draco kept a firm hold on the parcel he was carrying. Ridiculously, it helped his state of mind. In any other situation that look on his Father’s face would have him running screaming for the nearest exit. Nevertheless, it was pie that was keeping him firmly anchored to his resolve, and Draco was happy for it.
“I asked you a question, boy” Lucius hissed at him, his teeth clenched in barely controlled fury. “Where have you been all night?”
Draco swallowed. “Well Father” he voiced carefully “I’m not really sure about anything right now but to the best of my knowledge, I spent the night in a muggle coffee house arguing with a ghost about the merits of pie. Speaking of which, do you want some?”
It had sounded better in his head. Lucius went an abnormal shade of white, his eyes slitting menacingly. He scowled at the pie as if it had done him a personal disservice by existing and then turned his baleful glare on Draco. “Have you gone mad?” he demanded.
“Considering the things that happened to me tonight, quite possibly” Draco conceded fairly. If this was bravery, he wasn’t sure he was doing it right. The look on Lucius’ face was close to apoplectic and had he not been worried about dropping the pie, Draco would certainly have been running by now.
“You are a disgrace” Lucius spat out, practically shaking with rage “A waste of pure blood!”
“Actually, I have it from a reliable source that I’m a great kid,” Draco shot back. He took a deep breath. It was now or never. Padfoot, you better be right about this. “Which reminds me, thank you for the offer and all but I don’t…I don’t think I’ll be taking the Mark after all. The whole psychotic killer bit is just not my thing, if you get what I mean.”
“You don’t have a choice” Lucius spat maliciously. “You are my son, you belong to me! And you will do as I say!”
“I won’t kill, Father. Not for you or anyone else.” The world was still spinning, the heavens hadn’t crashed down and there was no fire raining from the sky. Apparently, he had talked back to his father and the universe hadn’t imploded. Huh. This felt alright, actually.
“I’m not a killer, Father” he repeated, looking his sire in the eye and wondering for the first time in his life if Gryffindors had something going for them after all. Maybe he owed Potter an apology.
Nah, no need to get ludicrous...
Lucius didn’t seem to share his sentiments. “Get out” he snarled “Get out of this house and don’t come back until you’ve seen sense!”
“Well then” Draco shrugged “I guess I’m not coming back.” He stared evenly at Lucius. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad I returned. Walking away from you is easier than running away. Goodbye, Father.”
“Disgrace!” Lucius hissed “I should have strangled you at birth, you pathetic failure! You waste! You…”
Draco grit his teeth and his fists clenched around the pie. He could feel the delicate pastry cracking under the pressure of his fingers. And suddenly, he was seized by an urge of insane, suicidal inspiration. It struck fear into his very core, but he also knew that if he did this, he could do anything.
Padfoot, you better be watching.
“You know Father” he said, taking a step towards his raging sire “There’s this new theory I can’t stop thinking about. There’s not a problem in the world pie can’t solve. Any thoughts?”
“You have gone mad” Lucius muttered disgustedly.
“I hope so” Draco agreed, nodding sagely “Because if I’m not, I have no excuse for this!”
And with that, Draco Malfoy lifted the entire serving of blueberry pie with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles and thrust it in his father’s face. It all happened in seconds. There was a most satisfying splat, Lucius let loose a yell that would have shamed a troll, the pastry cracked and crumbled in his hands and the whipped cream squirted through his fingers.
And he couldn't care less because he was throwing a pie in Father’s face and Lucius was howling obscenities and suddenly he was a sixteen year old boy who was free. He was condemned and probably fated to die a horrible, painful death if Lucius Malfoy ever had his way, but he was free. And it felt fantastic.
He laughed in sheer wonder, shook his head in disbelief and took in one more second to soak in the sight of his regal overbearing Father wearing dessert. And then Lucius snarled and pulled out his wand, and Draco ran as if werewolves were chasing him.
****
So this was what the Burrow looked like from inside. It wasn’t that bad, Draco conceded grudgingly. Although he sincerely hoped they weren’t planning on using this place for their Order Headquarters or whatever. The bloody roof was about to collapse, for Merlin’s sake. His sudden arrival had caused enough of a stir anyway.
Idly he picked up a set of Extendable Ears (fantastic things, really- who knew those oafish twins could develop something so ridiculously useful) to eavesdrop on the scintillating conversation in the next room.
“I say we kill him.”
“We can’t kill someone for showing up at the door, Ron.”
“Says you, ‘Mione. Harry agrees with me, right? Harry?”
“Well, Harry?”
“Um…”
“Harry! Come on, mate!”
“Look, its just…I know its ridiculous. Merlin, I know! But he sounds... sincere. Barking mad, but sincere.”
“Everyone deserves a second chance, Ronald.”
“Not Malfoy! How do you know he’s not a spy or something? He could be planning to hand Harry over to You-Know-Who this second!”
“All I know is, if we can save anyone from Voldemort- even Malfoy- I want to.”
“That’s very mature of you, Harry.”
“Hermione, stop encouraging him! This is mad! It’s insane! Its Malfoy and I am not going to…”
“He brought a pie.” Potter’s tone was a mixture of incredulous and amused.
“Pie? What kind of pie?”
“Blueberry, I think. With chocolate sprinkles.”
“Oh.” Weasley seemed to be mulling things over. “Well, I guess he can stay. For now. But I’m keeping an eye on him and nobody tells me otherwise!”
Draco grinned as he shucked away the Extendable Ears and leaned back on the sofa.
Not a problem in the world that pie can’t solve.
Thanks, Padfoot.
END