Egoist Chapter 05 Part Two
Veritaserum Part 2
oOoOoOo
Blaise Zabini was not a stupid Slytherin.
And precisely for that reason, the wizard tried to ward off everyone who was prone to have ill intentions towards Slytherin, from talking to Draco. Unfortunately, this was easier said than done, since that was, oh, about everyone in the remaining three Houses. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, there were many infights in Slytherin, which Draco always won more because of his sharp tongue than because of his abilities with his wand, though they always emphasied his threat nicely.
“Today, Malfoy is so… edgy,” one Slytherin said from the other end of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall.
“Maybe he had bad sex?” His friend remarked, relaxed and continuing to eat.
Blaise glanced at Draco who was acting as if he hadn’t heard anything. Both Slytherins probably didn’t notice that the blond could actually hear every spoken word of theirs, and Blaise hoped against hope, that their conversation wouldn’t take a bad turn.
“I thought Malfoy was still a virgin.”
Blaise cringed, choking on his food. After that sentence, he made it his duty to carefully watch the blond sitting opposite of him. Vincent and Gregory had likely heard everything as well, and they were slowly creeping closer to the blond Slytherin.
“Malfoy? A virgin? I bet he lost his virginity as soon as he knew how.”
“His parents wouldn’t approve of that,” a third interfered. “They are Purebloods. Girls have to stay virgins until marriage.”
The three conversing students burst out into broad laughter which they tried to suppress. While the three Slytherin enjoyed themselves, Blaise nervously shifted around on his chair, and Gregory and Vincent crept even closer to stop movement of hands or objects that might hurt other students in the near future.
“If you really want to know,” a girl said, smirking, “just ask him yourself.”
“I might be crazy, but I’m not a Gryffindor,” one of the boys shot back.
“At least we are not cowards!” one Griffindor shouted from his table. The faces of the three Slytherins turned pale, as they finally noticed that they hadn’t talked as quietly as they had believed. Suddenly they paled even more, when it occurred to them that if a Gryffindor two tables away could hear them, Draco most certainly would have heard them, too. Their perfect timing showed it. That they looked up at exactly the same time that Draco fixed his firm gaze on them, proved they had been caught. The sound of chairs scraping on the floor was followed by the sound of hurried footsteps and the slamming of the door.
Draco stared silently at his food. Blaise was not a coward, but he thought that the perfect place he could be right now was somewhere very, very far away from Draco… or under the table. And that was precisely the location he seeked, when he heard the first glass shattering on the floor.
“Hey Blaise,” Millicent mumbled, hiding herself under the table as well.
“Hey Milli.”
“Greetings friends!”
Both looked to the side and spotted Pansy, who began scrambling towards them. “Where are Greg and Vince?” the girl asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor. All three suddenly cringed when they heard a plate - or more - shattering on the floor.
“Probably trying to stop Draco.”
“Look, Greg is coming,” Millicent pointed out, making room for their friend.
“Vince said he wanted to go diplomatic, but Draco has been wound up to a high pitch all day long. This is just-” He was interrupted by a bowl, which, through the table, smashed just a few inches beside him. “Even the table isn’t safe anymore!”
“Well, Draco has never been this angry before.”
“Or powerful,” Blaise added to Pansy’s statement.
“Hey guys.”
“Hey,” the Slytherins welcomed Vincent who sat beside them.
“I don’t understand. Normally he would have his temper-tantrum at the end of the year,” Vincent commented.
“Usually, Draco is not running around with Veritaserum in his blood, if I’m not mistaken,” Pansy snarled while withdrawing a phial of nail enamel.
“Veritaserum?” Millicent asked, taking the nail enamel away from the other girl and putting it in her own pocket. “One of these days, those fumes will get to your head!”
“Is it my fault that painting my nails calms me down?” The sturdy girl was just about to answer, when…
“Bloody hell, Malfoy!”
The assembled Slytherins looked up, but couldn’t really see anything through the hole in the table, so they hesitantly peeped out from under the table. They saw the red-headed Gryffindor standing and throwing an angry glare ar Draco. “Just because you are pms-ing doesn’t mean you have to harass us!”
“Ron!” the bookworm exclaimed, while the others Gryffindor started to laugh.
“Ah, my bad, it was the bad sex, wasn’t it?”
Blaise was not stupid…
He knew at that moment, that those three Slytherins that had started the uproar off, wouldn’t survive the day. He guessed that the house dragon of the Malfoys’ hadn’t had anything to eat for a very long time.
Suddenly the Weasel started to laugh, and Blaise asked himself what the reason for his amusement was.
“Malfoy is blushing! You are acting like a virgin!”
That’s it! Indeed, Slytherins thought about themselves first, and then others, but when it was about friends, even they wouldn’t take this lying down and think about how they could avoid trouble.
“Vincent! Do something!” Blaise hissed towards the other boy, who only responed by shrugging. Subsequently, Blaise turned to Gregory, who responed by shrugging as well. Irritated, Blaise stood up and positioned himself beside Draco.
“That might be, because I-”
Perfect Timing, the dark-haired wizard thought, covering the blond’s mouth with one of his hands, although the answer came as a shock to him. Draco? A virgin? And he had thought that Pansy and Draco…
“What? You are what?” Potter curiously asked, compelety ignoring the havoc surrounding him.
“Angry! I’m angry!” Draco shouted, after he pulled Blaise’s hand away from his mouth and shoved his friend away.
Millicent nodded, and Pansy indifferently observed her nails that were in dire need of a fresh coat.
“Say Malfoy, are you a virgin?” The Hero of the Wizarding World shamelessly exploited the situation to satisfy his own perverted curiosity.
“No!” Draco shouted, and he could even make it sound like he was insulted because of that question. The answer, again, was true: Draco was a Sagittarius.
For the blink of an eye, something akin to shock or anger - or maybe a mixture of both - crossed Potter’s face, but Blaise dismissed it as a delusion on his part. Anyway, what had Potter expected? Draco was a normal (… …) sixteen year old boy, who naturally would engulf himself in the pleasure of a woman’s embrace. Though, he had just found out that Draco had never done that… Actually, that made Blaise think, and he sat down on a chair, contemplatively looking at Pansy who just shrugged.
“He didn’t want it. I didn’t want it. I was rather happy with the arrangement,” she said, snatching the phial out of Millicent’s pocket. “And even if he had wanted it,” she added, unscrewing the small bottle, “I certainly wouldn’t have been manly enough.”
Perplexed, Blaise glanced at Millicent, who was currently pulling on Draco’s leg to force him to clean up the mess he had made. However, Draco didn’t need the demand. During all the years they had stayed at Hogwarts, Draco had always cleaned up after his annual outburst of fury.
“Milli?” Blaise squeaked, covering his mouth with one hand, eyes wide open in panic. “Millicent Bulstrode?”
At first, Pansy looked puzzled, but then she burst out laughing. And she wouldn’t be stopping soon…
“Milli,” she choked through her laughter, trying to supress tears of mirth from ruining her make up. “Merlin.” She said, slowly breathing in and out. “Bitzy! That is just-Wuahahaha!!”
Millicent let go of Draco, who was currently busy with repairing several broken plates and glasses, and she turned to the other two Slytherin watching them sceptically. Pansy lay laughing on the floor, phial of enamle besider her as she tried to wipe tears from the corner of her eyes with a handkerchief, as Blaise watched her stunned, until he shrugged, determined to wait for the end of the laughting fit, to continue the conversation with the girl.
“I knew they would go to her head sooner or later,” Millicent sighed and walked towards Pansy, snatching the phial back.
“Milli, Bitzy! Draco most certainly is not in love with Milli, you nitwit!” The brunette girl snickered, wrestling for her self-control, yet miserably failing, and starting anew.
Fortunately the laughter wasn’t heard over the noise the other students in the Great Hall made; otherwise, she would have incurred Draco’s interest, and he would have asked the reason for her behavior. (How could someone be happy, while Draco Malfoy was suffering?)
Meanwhile, Draco used every charm he knew to fix the broken dishes and to put the tables back to their original shape. The students brave, or stupid - the same thing when talking about Griffndors - enough to stay in the Hall, wondered why the annual spectacle had been moved half a year earlier, and whether it would, nevertheless, take place again at the end of the year, while they happily chatted and created an all over rumpus, which disturbed Draco’s concentration.
“Bitzy!” Pansy started again, slowly calming down. “Draco is gay!”
Milliseconds before Pansy had uttered that disastrous sentence, the whole Great Hall mysteriously fell silent. It was just like in classes. Everybody was amiably chatting, but if you suddenly sneezed, everything went silent. Or you would get hiccups, and at that very moment everybody would quiet down.
Blaise stared, aghast, at Pansy, and his eyes flickered to Draco, who stood stark and stiff a few feet apart from them. Suddenly he lowered his outstretched arm and slowly turned around. Pansy jerked, well aware that she had overstepped the mark. However, instead of hexing the girl, the blond Slytherin stomped out of the Hall, shouting something that suspiciously sounded like, “I hate Murphy!” and en passant insulted Pansy, Pansy’s parents, Harry Potter, Dumbledore, and the whole world, with the rudest cusses, Blaise had ever heard.
“So,” Blaise began nervously, throwing a shaky glance at Millicent. “Does that mean I will never be able to become godfather of little Draco-Devils, whom I could bestow books about torture upon?”
Silence reigned in the Great Hall.
Suddenly…
“Wouldn’t have become true anyhow, Bitzy.”
Millicent nodded in agreement. “It’s common knowledge: Draco is a pure-blood … They hate Christians.”
“Something you should have known, being a pureblood yourself,” Gregory added, reproachfully, pinning the poor boy with his glare.
They fell silent again, not knowing what they should say.
“This is too good, Harry! Malfoy is-”
“Ron! Quit joking! Homosexuality is a serious illness you should take very seriously! However, I have read that you can heal it in America now!”
Granger withdrew a magazine from her bag, handing it to the Weasel. “Degayification” he read out loud. “Homosexuality is curable. It is believed in the USA these days …” He couldn’t get further because Potter wrested the magazine from the redhead’s hands and skimmed the text with his eyes. Suddenly, he shouted Incendio, and the magazine bursted into flames. “What a load of rubbish,” he mumbled and left the Great Hall.
Blaise was sitting in his chair, sighing.
He had the feeling that this day was going to rob him of all his senses.
oOoOoOo
Blaise Zabini was not a stupid Slytherin.
And precisely for that reason, the wizard knew that the silence in Professor McGonagall’s classroom should be feared. Draco and Blaise sat at the outermost end of the room, very far away from the Griffindors - or as far as possible…
McGonagall watched the calm before the storm suspiciously, gaze drifting back and forth between the two Houses to make sure that nothing would happen. Though most of all, her eyes watched Draco Malfoy, who was, encircled by his friends, fidgeting on his chair, and Harry Potter, who sat on the opposite end, concentrating, and seemingly rather angry.
The teacher sighed, closing her book. “Mister Potter, Mister Malfoy. Please stand up!” she ordered impatiently. She would get rid of the problem right away, because with her class split between two fronts (literally), she wouldn’t get through her lesson.
“Mister Potter, I came to the realization that your behavior influences the class, especially the mood,” McGonagall explained.
The dark-haired wizard looked up, noticing to his surprise that a large part of the class (the Gryffindor part) was throwing devilish looks at the Slytherins, as if wanting to say, We know it’s your fault that Harry is in a bad mood!
“Mister Malfoy. The same goes for you.” Draco rasied one eyebrow and looked around. The Slytherins actually acted like always. Some raised an eyebrow as an answer to the Gryffindors’ glare as if wanting to say, What if?. Others scratched placidly on their tables. “Maybe not so much the Slytherins, but as we all know, you affect Harry Potter and, in turn, the Gryffindors. And, not least of all, does this disturb my class.” Over the lips of the Slytherin ran a devilish smirk. “So, what is the problem with you?”
The eyes of the blond widened and he bent over, biting his lip. Blaise stood up, intending to lay a hand on the blond’s shoulder, but he was held back by Vincent.
“I lost a bet and had to drink Veritaserum,” Draco croaked. Everyone in the classroom froze. Potter turned his head, looking straight at Draco with an apologetic gaze, but the other boy simply ignored him.
“Don’t make fun of that, Mister Malfoy!”
Draco didn’t answer, hissing once before he sighed, “Besides, I’m currently undergoing an identity crisis - not in the sense of cross-dressing, mind you.” The blond stood up tall, impassively leaning back, sadistic smile playing on his lips. The Slytherin side of the room started to laugh, while the Gryffindors growled. “Earlier today, I had to listen to one of Vincent’s indoctrinations and shortly after, I was told that Millicent actually has a boyfriend. I had to hear that Snape actually has a thing for my father, although he is hooked up with Dumbledore. The whole class got to know that I’m not as asinine when it comes to Care of Magical Creatures as they had believed. At lunch, some nonentity Slytherins had nothing better to do than to discuss my virginity, after they had decided that I am actually a girl. Furthermore, I am beginning to loathe Murphy, and Pansy has nothing better to do than to declare my still unclear sexual orientation for which my father would kill me over, by the way, that is, if my mother doesn’t get ahead of him, because she now can throw her marriage plan into disarray, although she had wished for little Malfoy-heirs, preferably with Pansy.” Draco grimaced while the aformentioned girl rolled her eyes.
“Did I mention that I have lessons with Gryffindor the whole day long? Oh, and this girl seems to have stalked me for weeks now!” The blond pointed at a girl with long brunette hair that was trying to inconspicuously leave the room. “What did I ever do to you? - No! Wait! Don’t answer that! What do you want from me?” he asked annoyed. The girl spun around, smiling. She threw a kiss at him, before repeating it with Potter, and then she left the room.
For a few minutes, the students stared after the girl, then they blankly turned back to the blond Slytherin.
Again, silence controlled the room, as nobody dared to say anything.
Suddenly, Potter started to laugh, though he tried to surpress it with one hand. “What’s next, Malfoy?” he asked, grinning. “Crabbe and Goyle aren’t as stupid as they act, and Parkinson is a hotshot in Arithmantics? Tell it to the navy!”
“It’s ‘marines,’ Harry,” Granger threw in.
“Actually, that’s true. Gregory and Vincent are really above average, and Pansy is currently studying quantum physics.” Potter shook his head in response, chuckling.
“Sure. All these years both of your little pets just acted,” the Weasel joined in, laughing.
“Yep, exactly.”
Meanwhile, even the other students started to chuckle, taking Draco’s responses as a joke because Professor McGonagall more or less requested for Draco to sob his heart out in front of everybody.
“Mister Malfoy! As I see there is no way I can help you, sit down and do not dare disrupt the class again!”
The blond boy elegantly sat down, a mocking smirk on his lips. “What was the saying? ‘Tell the truth. Nobody will believe it!’”
“The only mistake in your logic, Draco,” Blaise said, leaning forward, “is that Potter knows you said the truth.”
“Harry is not a problem. He is far too noble to break our agreement.”
“Hm… What I had wanted to ask you is this: Since when is it ‘Harry’?”
“Since fourteen days, thirteen hours, thirty minutes and four, five, six-”
“Okay, I get it. That was the duet, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. Blaise, shut up.”
“Now, I have other questions: Have you ever told anyone that I am a Muggle born?”
“No - why should I?”
Blaise sighed in relief. Throughout the whole school, there were only three people, who knew, that he wasn’t a pureblood, and if someone else were to find out about it, his life might turn into hell; although, he doubted that his friends - meaning Pansy, Gregory, Millicent, and Vincent - would start to avoid him because of that.
Anyway, the three people?
They were, of course, Dumbledore, Snape, and Draco Malfoy.
The blond Slytherin found it out in their third year, two years after they became ‘allies.’ Malfoys, after all, did not have friends - they had ‘allies.’ Yet, Draco told nobody about his origin, and he never broached the subject in their discussions (Blaise said that they would quarrel and fight, but Malfoys didn’t fight or quarrel, they had ‘discussions’), and Blaise was really grateful for that.
Once, Blaise had asked him why Draco was still ‘allied’ with him, and the other boy had just answered calmly that Blaise was ‘useful.’ In the beginning, Blaise wasn’t really happy with that answer, until he learned that Malfoys had their own language.
Being ‘useful’ actually meant, in normal language, that someone was ‘important’ in the sense of ‘friend,’ meaning ‘ally.’
So, if a Malfoy would say, “You are a usefull ally,” they actually meant “You are an important friend,” or something along those lines, but Blaise had gotten slightly off-topic.
“Do the Purebloods really hate Christians? And if so, why?”
“As you might remember, the Christians hunted wizards and witches down, see Holy Office. Blaise, if you really want to be seen as a Pureblood, you really should learn more about our customs. It’s a wonder you have survived these last six years.”
“Mainly because of you,” the dark-haired boy answered, ignoring the uneasiness of his friend because of those words.
“So, Pansy and you, you have never slept with eachother? Maybe kissed? Is it because you are gay? Are you, by the way? If yes, are you crushing on Harry Potter, because I have felt some slightly disturbing vibrations…”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I don’t know! Maybe. - Blaise!”
“Snape really is interested in your father? How do you know?”
“Yes. Ugh! Because he interrogates me about my father and writes the answers down. Blaise Zabini!”
The dark-haired boy didn’t even listen anymore, as he was trying to assimilate the answer. While Draco complained in the background, Blaise ignored him with a clear conscience, sifting through the different answers.
“You have no idea whether you are gay or not?”
“-crazy. Yes! Blaise! I thought you were my ally, so work with me, not against me!”
“Hey, Bitzy,” Pansy whispered, leaning forward from behind them. “If you have finished with Draco, can I have him?”
“Sure, take him.” Saying this, Blaise turned around, rethinking what he had learned during that day.
“So, Dracy-Poo,” Pansy began as a malicious smile spread over her lips. She took out a piece of paper and began searching for her Quick-Quotes Quill. Draco flinched, but he bumped against his table - running beneath it would have been too inelegantly and not worthy of a Malfoy. “Is it true that you hated me the very moment you first saw me? Do you still not like me? Do you think I’m attractive? Would you go out with me? Was it ever your intention to tell on Vector and me? Are you in love with Harry Potter? What was your most embarassing moment? And what are you doing with your freaking nails that they are so untarnished?” With the last question she gripped his hand, jealously inspecting his fingers.
“Yes. No. In a hands-off-sort-of way. No - once bitten, twice shy. No, of course it wasn’t. Maybe - why is everybody asking that? When you proposed to me, when we were eight. In front of my parents, even! You know, that really was embarassing. My mother sends me a potion every month. Now would you please leave me the bloody hell alone?”
The girl looked over the answers, nodding. “You know, it’s your fault for drinking that potion and keeping so many secrets from us. I’m attractive in a hands-off-sort-of way?” She looked at him, annoyed. When Draco thought she would leave him alone, she started speaking up again. “How do you know about her and me?”
“On one of my rounds, I saw you in the Arithmancy room. I never intended to use this as black-mail material, but it was my only choice. Really, I wouldn’t want to see either Gregory or Vincent in a skirt!”
Pansy didn’t respond, finally whispering a quiet ‘Thank you.’
“Mister Malfoy! Are you listening?”
“Not really, no.” The Slytherin paled, which fortunately wasn’t obvious because of his fair skin. Some of the Slytherins sniggered when they saw McGonagall’s glare, but Draco was far from amused.
“Mister Malfoy!”
“Would you kindly refrain from using my name?” Draco responded, annoyed, as he stood up. “Though it’s nice that you’re trying to remind me of my name, but I doubt I would forget it, because everybody in this school thinks it’s their duty to remind me that I am a Malfoy.” During his tirade, Draco packed his books into his bag and moved towards the door. “Give me detention until I graduate, I don’t care. Just leave me alone.” He turned towards the class, eyes fixed on the dark-haired Gryffindor. “Everybody!” Saying this, he left the classroom. However, he didn’t slam the door shut, like some would have expected. Instead, he left composed and calm - as if nothing had happened.
Draco knew that this would leave a greater impact.
Blaise guilty looked at Pansy who lowered her eyes.
oOoOoOo
Blaise looked at the unoccupied seat between Gregory and Vincent, while nervously shifting on his chair. For the remainder of the day, Draco did not make an appearance - neither in the Slytherin common room, nor at dinner, and slowly Blaise started to worry. Worrying wasn’t something one would put together with a Slytherin, which worried Pansy, and which worried Gregory - it was a vicious circle.
Potter seemed troubled himself, because his gaze flickered every once in a while to the Slytherin table. He probably blamed himself. Damn Gryffindor.
After dinner, the five friends went to Draco’s room, only to discover that the door was locked and couldn’t be opened with any spell they knew.
“Draco?” Millicent asked hesitantly, lightly knocking on the door.
“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to take advantage of your situation, and Bitzy did not either. Right, Bitzy?” Pansy asked when they heard no answer.
Blaise nodded enthusiastically. “We didn’t know you’d take offense.”
“And Vincent didn’t mean to lecture you,” Gregory apologized.
They stood, indecisively, in front of the door until they lost hope for a response.
“You know what the worst part is?” a voice suddenly asked from the other side, and the door slowly opened. They looked at each other and then entered the room, finding Draco sitting at his desk, reading a book. The blond looked up, turned around on his chair, and bent his head to the side. “I actually didn’t expect you to do it.” An embittered smile played on his lips. “Sometimes I forget that we all are Slytherin.”
His friends guilty glanced at each other, but Draco ignored them as he stood up and wandered to the other side of his room and sat down in a beanbag chair. “Sooo,” he drawled, cupping his chin with one hand. “You came all this way from the common room to disturb me when I’m working, hoping I would do what?”
“Uhm… Shorten your vengeance? Maybe just one, two months?” Pansy asked hesitantly, while the others nodded, supporting her statement.
Draco’s revenge was kind of complicated. At times it would last months, but if he was really angry it would last years. Blaise guessed that Draco was still plaguing the student who had turned his hair color lilac last year, from time to time. That the whole thing had only been an accident, Draco ignored fastidiously.
Draco leaned back in his beanbag chair, eyeing his friends, but then he stood up again, planting himself in front of the other Slytherins. Suddenly, a sardonic smile graced his lips.
“The favour of a Malfoy is something one has to earn,” he started. Blaise swallowed, because Draco sounded just like his father at that moment. “Though, for the time being, I have better things to do. After our midterm examinations-” which would be over in two weeks “-I will take care of you.”
Everybody knew what that meant. Either they had to serve Draco during those two weeks from top to bottom, or they had to suffer. A lot.
Draco might have been their friend, but that didn’t mean he would put up with everything. He had his limits, and on this day, Blaise and Pansy certainly had surpassed them - Vincent might have as well. Still, Draco tended to decide on paybacks that included all of his friends, which was setting them on edge.
Sometimes Blaise wondered whether Draco really thought of them as friends or more like a kind of guinea pig or exercise material.
“And now,” the Prefect started, jauntily turning around, “I have to change. So, if it doesn’t bother you, leave, or do whatever you always do.” Hanging around in Draco’s room, that was what they usually did, because the room was huge. And the five Slytherins loved it: lurking around the room, and using Draco’s so-called library or other things Draco hid somewhere in his room.
Blaise was awoken from his thoughts when he heard Draco’s yelp.
“Guys,” the blond Slytherin said, standing in front of his deluxe walk-in-closet. “My clothes… are missing. Meaning-”
“Your For-Meetings-With-Potter-Clothes?” Gregory asked.
The blond nodded, and the temperature dropped a few degrees, before suddenly rising to about twice it’s original. “Who was the last one in my room?”
Pansy whimpered quietly, hiding behind the desk chair. “I locked the door! Really!”
“With a key?”
“Uhm…”
“Argh, you! What should I wear now? Always the same! I’m going to go to Dumbledore and lodge a complaint! No, what am I talking about? I will go to Snape… On the other hand, I don’t want to see him anytime soon…”
“How about Potter?” Millicent asked, occupying the beanbag chair.
“… Harry! I’m going to be late.”
Blaise had always thought that Draco had a rather strange definition of ‘being too late,’ completely different from everybody else. A minute too early, was late, according to the blond boy, and to actually be late was really confusing, Blaise thought and shook his head. And now Draco feared he was running late, instead of early, and therefore too late.
Now, Blaise had confused himself, which was the reason why he turned his attention towards the on-going monotony.
It was always the same before Draco went to meet Potter: Draco would throw a fit because he would either run late (meaning too early…), and he couldn’t find his clothes, and the other Slytherins would act as if he hadn’t messed up the room like a tornado.
“I hate when I am too late,” Draco said. “Usually I would be the first there, so I could see him walking into the room … I hate this Veritaserum.”
“Why…,” Millicent started, interrupting herself as soon as she caught the meaning of the phrase, and smiled. “Draco, Draco. But you are right; he has a great body.”
“I meant to say that.” Draco shook his head. “I mean, I meant to say that. Say. He has a great body. Argh, damn it…”
“In ten minutes,” Vincent interjected, looking up from his Spelling Dictionary. “You have your date with Potter.”
“It’s not a date!”
“We are just messing with you,” Pansy murmured.
“That’s why I actualy like you… I mean… Argh…”
His friends snickered.
Nevertheless, Blaise started to ask himself, how many secrets Draco really had.
“So, how many secrets does the Boy-Who-Lies-As-Soon-As-He-Speaks, have?” Pansy asked, fixing her friend with a firm gaze.
“One-hundred-fifty-six… Why do I know that?”
“What?”
“Tell me!” Blaise demanded, while Draco threw the door open.
“First: When I was three years old, I still wet my bed. Second: At five years old, I couldn’t sleep with the lights out. Third: Still at five years-” The voice of the blond softened when he pulled the door behind him shut, though Blaise opened it again and followed the fleeing boy.
Suddenly the blond boy disappeared behind a door, and Blaise halted in front of it. Angry, he pulled on the handle, and then it suddenly turned into the head of a snake and attempted to bite him. “Password,” it hissed disdainfully, red eyes dangerously sparkling. “It’s the only way, you twerp.” The portrait beside the door snarled, and Blaise looked up, sighing.
Discontent, he sat down on the stone floor, thinking about a way to get in there. Suddenly, he remembered a spell Draco had once taught him out of boredom, as he had claimed. He mumbled the words, but instead of hearing what Draco said, he heard what was said in every room surrounding him. Startled, he shouted Finite Incantatem, and everything fell silent again.
As a matter of fact, the spell should have made evesdropping easier, but apparently, Draco hadn’t bothered to tell him of a tiny, little fact: How to use it on only one room!
After a few minutes, Blaise tried to combine that spell with another one. He grinned while whispering the words, and he waited…
And waited…
And waited…
“It doesn’t work?” He asked himself, looking at his wand and shaking it.
Suddenly… “He is late again!”
Aha! It did work! The blond just hadn’t said anything.
Content, Blaise leaned back and waited again, until suddenly the door was opened right in front of him, without him noticing it. Scared he looked around, and was about to stand up, when the door closed again.
“Do you always have to use that cloak, Potter?” Draco suddenly snapped, and Blaise could tell, by the tone of his voice, that he was startled.
“Yes, because right in front of the door, is one of your friends.”
“He is still sitting there?”
Blaise didn’t hear an answer so he assumed that Potter had nodded in response.
“You know Malfoy, concerning that Veritaserum and what happened in the Great Hall… well… I wa-”
“Save me your apology. I never would have done the same. I mean, I would have done the same - never. ARGH!”
Blaise heard a quiet chuckle, moving closer to the door.
“Shouldn’t you have gotten used to it by now? After all, the potion should wear off soon.”
“You have absolutely no idea, do you? The effect decreases over the course of time, but increases again at the end.”
“Don’t worry, it should wear off in about fifthteen minutes, and then you can walk around, acting as if you are an evil Death Eater in training.”
“I am evil.”
“It frightens me that you honestly believe that.”
Draco didn’t answer - at least not with words.
“Did your friends take advantage of your situation, as soon as they had figured it out?”
“No.”
“Oh…”
Yeah, really, ‘Oh!’ Personally, Blaise thought that they had taken advantage. Presumably, Draco refered to other friends or maybe they weren’t Draco’s friends at all, and because of that, Potter’s phrasing was wrong. That was it! Must have been secret number one-hundred-and-twenty-six.
“Though, Blaise and Pansy thought it was their duty to ask some questions, but otherwise, they tried to prevent me from saying uncalled things.”
“So, you Slytherins really are normal.”
‘I won’t stand that,’ Blaise thought internally, scandalized.
“No, we are not.”
“Aha.”
Silence.
“Concerning Transfigartion - and this is not going to be an apology or a speech of thanks, so wipe that grin off your face, Potter - that is… it was kind of … sporting that you helped me out in that situation. If you hadn’t suddenly started laughing, who knows what they would have done… Honestly, I have no idea what I would have done.”
Blaise smirked. Draco thanked Harry Potter and sounded like he would rather kiss a Hippogriff. The dark-haired boy would love to see the blond’s face.
“Do you know what you want to do after graduation?”
‘Cunning change of topic, Potter,’ Blaise thought.
“… Yes. And you?”
“Not really. I hope I will survive until then.”
“Oh, stop that! I hate it when you start self-pitying yourself.”
“You are going to do something that has to do with potions, aren’t you?”
“Something like that.”
“Would you tell me what exactly?”
“No.”
“How long?”
“Five minutes.”
“You know, I’m pulling myself together here.”
“Yes.” Blaise could actually see Draco’s smirk.
“Next week,” Potter spoke up, and then stopped himself.
“Next week,” Draco repeated. “Next week, one of us is going to suffer, and I think I know who it will be.”
“And what are we going to do?”
“Do you remember the wager we had planned three weeks ago?”
“Hmhm…”
“That, it is.”
“Not that, I didn’t like that one back then, and I don’t like it now!”
“Veritaserum is worse. And even cheating. Tsk…”
“… Alright, okay, but one question.”
“The potion still works.”
“I know.”
“What are you-”
“Are you still a virgin? And I’m not talking about your astrological sign.”
“Yes. Potter, that’s not fair!”
Blaise heard laughter again, and suddenly the door was opened a few seconds later. “I’m going to kill you for that one, Potter! Even if it’s the last thing I’m going to do!” Draco glanced up from the floor, spotting Blaise who was about to cut and run. “You are still here?”
“See you, Malfoy.” Saying this, Potter walked by and behind the blond, grinning.
“How dare he asking me that question?”
“It is quite simple,” Blaise started, completely ignoring the fact that his best friend was already angry and about to kill him. Even without the following comment. “He is in love with you, obviously. The thought of you being touched by someone else, makes him rather jealous.”
“Blaise.”
“Yes?”
“I’m counting to three. Until then, you have time to make a quick getaway. One…”
“Draco… I only…”
“Two.”
Blaise retreated a few steps, then turned around and started to run.
“Three. Densaugeo!”
“Not my-”
“Furnunculus!”
“Not my face!”
Blaise Zabini was not a stupid Slytherin…
… but sometimes, he just didn’t know when to shut up…
~Fin / Chapter 05 ~Veritaserum~
[Next] Tirade of Hate