Attention, Chapter 20
Title: Attention (20)
Rating: PG-15
Words: 1750
Notes: Thanks to alexia75 for the britpick.
Chapter Twenty: The Day After
Lunchtime was miserable.
Draco was fairly certain Snape would do his best to prevent a murder at the house table, but wasn't certain exactly what Snape's 'best' might be. Draco thus kept his wand up his sleeve as he ate, and was more relieved than anything else at the two feet of pariah-space surrounding him. He made a mental note to look up Spacing Spells, or Long-Term Shields--anything to give him a few seconds' advantage if someone attacked. Maybe the Restricted Section might have something on the fabled Somebody Else's Problem transfiguration.
Thus, Draco's lunchtime misery wasn't due to any actual hexing, but rather to the murderous glares and contemptuous looks from his housemates. In one day, he had gone from the so-called Prince of Slytherin to a complete nothing. Probably, he thought glumly, he wouldn't even be able to get laid by a Hufflepuff now.
Potions was worse.
'Settle down, settle down,' Snape said idly to the N.E.W.T.-level class as they shuffled in, Draco at the back, his nerves stretched taut. 'Today we will continue work on our Healing Draughts. Your potions should have curdled well over the last week. Collect your cauldrons from the store cupboard and continue to follow the instructions on page seven-hundred three.'
With a scraping of chairs, the class stood up to fetch their congealing potions.
Draco waited until the two other Slytherins, Millicent and Blaise, had collected their cauldrons before going to get his. The moment he reached the store cupboard, behind Ernie Macmillan, he realised he'd made a terrible mistake.
His cauldron was gone. His cauldron, the one his father had gifted him in his third year as a reward for the second-highest Potions marks of the year. It had the Malfoy family crest engraved on the handles, and was impossible to mistake for anyone else's.
After checking thoroughly to make sure the cauldron was actually gone, not simply hidden in a corner or Disillusioned or turned invisible, Draco began to curse himself for being so stupid as to let the Slytherins go in in front of him. Then again, he thought with a chill, a missing cauldron was nothing compared to what could have happened with Millicent at his back and Snape not in a direct line of sight.
'Right,' Draco muttered bracingly. 'Right. I'll just tell Snape that my cauldron is gone, and take it from there.'
Snape was not pleased. 'Who would steal your cauldron, Draco?' he asked with a faint smirk. 'Was it worth much?'
'About a hundred Galleons, yes,' said Draco.
'Tsk, tsk,' Snape said idly. 'What a pity. I suppose you'll just have to work with someone else.'
Not another Slytherin, please, not another Slytherin--
'Miss Granger.'
Draco's heart thumped in trepidation. If anyone could inflict worse damage on him than Millicent, it was certainly the Granger girl.
'Yes, Professor?'
'Mr Malfoy claims his cauldron has been stolen,' Snape announced loudly, and the class tittered. Granger, Draco was pleased to see, didn't even crack a smile. 'He will spend the remainder of the period working with you.'
'Yes, Professor.'
Draco dragged his bag over to Granger's table and slumped onto the stool beside her.
'Here,' she said, her tone chilly but at least above absolute zero, and handed him a half-dozen frog legs. 'Chop these, please.'
'Julienne or diced?'
Granger looked startled, but said, 'Julienne, as fine as possible.'
'Silver, gold, or steel?'
'Use the gold knife.' Granger gave him a puzzled, blinking look, but then bent over the textbook to read the next line of instructions.
Granger's presence next to him seemed to act as a barrier against Slytherin mischief, so Draco allowed himself to relax slightly as the class progressed. He'd never worked with Granger before, and found her surprisingly not unpleasant as a partner. She was civil, efficient, and intelligent, and their potion was by far the best of the class.
Draco knew the feeling of truce wouldn't last, though, and sure enough, when the lesson was over, Granger turned to him and said in a whisper whose lack of feeling made it scarier than if she'd shouted, 'Malfoy, if you've done anything that lowers my mark, I swear I will take a blunt knife to your testicles and make you eat them.'
'Why would I sabotage your work?' Draco asked, genuinely surprised.
Granger looked at him scornfully. 'You're a Slytherin.'
'Not anymore, or hadn't you heard?'
Draco picked up his bag and left before she could respond.
At dinner, Draco didn't eat much. Partly he was too jumpy to pay attention to his food, and partly he couldn't stop thinking of the brief exchange with Granger.
When he realized that his potatoes had gone cold and his gravy was well-congealed, he gave up dinner as a bad job. Dropping his fork on the table, he bent over to pick up his bag, which had somehow become stuck under the seat, and he had to tug at it rather violently until it came free. With both hands full of bookbag as he straightened up, Draco was unable to block the Stinging Hexes that flew at him from both sides.
He bit back a yelp and glared around the table. Every single wand was out. Not obviously pointing at him, but resting casually in hands or across napkins in such a way that he had no idea who the culprits were.
'Pathetic cowards,' he spat, his hands stinging madly, 'all of you.'
Draco stalked out of the Great Hall, across the entrance hall and back up to the library. At least there he'd be able to hear attackers coming.
About an hour later, Draco looked up from his now-familiar position at the library table to see Ginny approaching with an unexpected and unwelcome accessory.
'Come to gloat, Potter?' Draco said, feeling bitter and resentful. 'Why'd you bring him, anyway?' he demanded of Ginny.
'Because you two need to talk,' she declared.
'About what?' Draco said sullenly, and was thoroughly annoyed to hear Potter say it at the same time. He scowled.
'About the Death Eaters,' Ginny whispered impatiently.
'Oh, no we don't,' Draco said, pushing back his chair to put distance between himself and Potter. 'I told you, I can't tell you! And in any case, we can't talk here.'
Potter pulled out his wand. Draco tensed, but all Potter did was twiddle it and say, 'Muffliato!'
'What was that?' Draco asked suspiciously.
'Muffliato.'
'Yes, I heard the incantation. What does it do?' Draco asked.
'Fills anyone nearby's head with buzzing if they try to listen in on our conversation. We can talk anywhere, Malfoy.'
Draco glared at Potter, then at Ginny. 'There's still my father,' he said to her.
'Yes, yes, we've been over that,' she said exasperatedly, sounding almost like Granger. 'He's going to kill you no matter what you do now, so why don't you at least do the right thing before you die?'
'She makes a good point,' said Potter.
'Fuck you,' said Draco. 'Fuck you both.'
He was immensely irritated. Why couldn't things go back to the way they'd been a few weeks ago, when Pansy was still an airhead and Ginny Weasley just another pretty figure? Why on earth had his emotions needed to get involved, and his conscience have to prove its hitherto-unknown existence?
'Not yet,' Ginny said. 'Not until you tell us what you know of Voldemort's plans.'
Draco was so surprised by her first comment that he forgot to be startled by the use of the Dark Lord's name in the second.
'Yet?' he said, and again spoke at the same time as Potter. 'Would you stop that?' he hissed at Potter.
'It's not my fault!' Potter protested as Ginny put her hands on her hips and glared at Draco.
'No, not yet. And perhaps never, if you don't put your Galleons where your gumption is! And if you're not going to tell us, why don't you tell Dumbledore, or Snape, or someone in the Or--'
'Ginny!' Harry hissed. 'Don't--'
'The Order of the Phoenix,' Draco finished for her, with a contemptuous look at Harry. 'You thought the Order were still some big secret? Not likely. Everyone knows about them, no matter what side they take, or even if they don't. Dumbledore's the leader, and McGonagall and Snape are both in it. I thought Flitwick was, but now I'm not sure. You can talk about the Order around me. And besides, it's not like I'm going to tell the Dark Lord, or my father, am I?'
'Look, even if Ginny's convinced that you're on our side, I'm not,' said Potter. 'And no one else will be,' he added, 'until you prove it.'
Draco clenched his fists against a boiling rage. Was this really what it would take? He looked at Ginny without knowing why.
She raised an eyebrow, and he was struck by just how pretty she was, with her mouth that particular shape, and her eyes brown and bright, and her hands on those luscious hips, oh he'd like to get his hands on them--
'Draco,' Ginny said warningly. 'If you're really on our side, then show it! Do something to help! You're father's going to kill you anyway, you say, so why not do what's right in the meantime?'
There was a very, very long pause. Draco was partly listening for footsteps or breathing behind shelves, but couldn't hear anything besides his own uncertain sigh, Ginny's huffs, and Potter's slow, measured breaths.
'Fine,' Draco finally said, not looking at either of them. The page in front of him went slightly blurry, and he blinked angrily. 'Fine. The Dark Lord is planning on sending a pack of Dementors to Hogwarts at the Quidditch Final.'
'The Quidditch Final?' said Harry.
'Dementors?' gasped Ginny.
Draco's vision cleared at once. He looked up at the two of them, the imbeciles. 'Yes, the Quidditch Final; yes, Dementors. Are you deaf?'
'You have to tell Dumbledore!' said Ginny urgently. 'Really, Draco, you must.'
'Why don't you two go?' Draco asked. 'It's the same information.'
'Draco--' Ginny began again, and Draco half hoped she'd promise to have sex with him if he went to Dumbledore.
'You're the Slytherin,' Potter interrupted, sounding calm and a bit smug. 'Wouldn't it be worth more coming from you? Wouldn't the same information do more for you if you told Dumbledore, not us?'
Draco gaped.
'Fuck, why do you have to be right all the time, Potter?'
Potter smirked.
~tbc~