Sly Boys

There was already enough light in the room to wake him when the elf's presence announced itself with a loud crack. Draco kept his eyes shut. He knew this was his mother's doing. She'd be wanting one last breakfast with him before he left for school, but it seemed one breakfast too many after the conversation - argument - they'd had the day before. He squeezed his eyes tighter still, his head swam with the memory of it until his thoughts were reduced to a meaningless jumble of words like Daphne, marriage and family. 

"Master Draco, Madame is requesting your presence in the dining room, sir," Dobby squeaked, pulling open the drapes and letting streams of sleepy September sun into the room. 

Draco grunted in response, pressing his lips together in a tight line. With his eyes still shut it was easy to remember that one glorious summer morning where he had been allowed to awaken without the early morning call of a house elf. He had still awoken early, but it had been to soft birdsong and orange skies, instead of the cracks of apparition and grey wallpaper. 

He allowed himself one more precious moment of self-pity before throwing the covers off himself and taking the freshly laundered school robes from Dobby. He looked down at the emerald green snake of Salazar Slytherin and felt a slight rush of excitement. In no more than two hours, he would be sat with Theo and Blaise on the Hogwarts Express, catching up on their families, reading the Quidditch news in the Prophet, and reliving their holiday in the south of France from July. His happiness was tainted, however, with the thought of the news he had to give them. Or rather, he amended, the news his family had to give them. Draco pushed the uneasiness further down into his stomach and headed downstairs. 

His mother was in her best - not that she was ever in her worst. But he could tell that this day meant a lot to her, it always did. September the first was one of the few unofficial wizarding world gatherings where wizards could exchange small talk and act nonchalant about the end of the summer holidays when in reality they were sizing each other up and trying to determine how ambitious the parents from pureblood families were feeling about the coming year. The same thing had happened last year, when Ambrosius Nott had all but announced he was running for Minister of Magic. He had lost to Madeline Bones. Draco cringed at the thought, then smiled, Theo hadn't lived that down for months. 

Narcissa's eyes roved over his slicked hair, tailored cuffs and shined shoes, trying to find an error. Draco was familiar with this routine, but he was able to dress himself now, which she would do well to remember. 

"Are you ready?" she asked, looking back to the paper in her hand. 

"Yes," he replied, taking a seat and helping himself to the smoked salmon piled in the centre of the long table. "Where is father?" 

"He had to run into the ministry, darling, you understand how hectic it is there since that woman got elected," Narcissa sneered at the idea of Madeline Bones, who was notoriously flexible when it came to blood purity, in office. "He's trying to stop that heretic from passing magical decree number 461."

Draco nodded. Magical decree 461: Aurors would not be able to use magic against muggles unless they were attacking them, meaning more muggles in the way, meaning more pissed-off Aurors. Bones would never get it through anyway, not when the cabinet was full of traditionalists like Lucious Malfoy. When he reminded his mother of this, she snorted derisively and returned to her papers. 

Draco felt a small amount of gratitude that his father was not there. He suspected that it was largely due to how uncomfortable he had looked during that conversation. Which, he noted to himself with some surprise, his mother had not yet mentioned. He sat poker straight, bracing himself for any sign that she was going to bring everything up again, but the meal passed in silence. 

He couldn't help himself from thinking that that would be his future - if his father had his way. Going back and forth to the ministry to keep everything nice and pro-pureblood and anti-muggle. That was the Malfoy legacy, and it was all around him, carved into the silverware and burnt into the wood panelling. Draco found himself wondering at the marks it had left on him, about the marks that he would leave on his son - his thoughts had once again wandered back to that forbidden topic, and he wrenched them back. 

"Let's go," He said, standing up abruptly.

Narcissa put the papers down, "Very well, darling, if you must." 

She led them through to the large entrance hall where a black umbrella was waiting for them atop one of the dressers. Draco summoned his trunk.

"We'll have your broom shipped for when you get there," His mother said, smoothing her white coat down, "Come here, darling, I'll miss you, promise you'll write," She kissed his cheeks and smiled up at him. Draco did his best to return it. 

They both grabbed ahold of the umbrella's handle and, with a jerk behind the naval, were gone.

Draco had not quite steeled himself for the onslaught of noise and smells of platform nine and three-quarters and was momentarily dazed by the white daylight and thick rivers of smoke drifting over the unidentifiable heads. As his vision cleared, he glimpsed one unmistakable head of thick blonde hair bobbing steadily towards him. His knuckles clenched, and the silver Malfoy signet ring cut into his finger. Thankfully, he had spotted Daphne in the crowd before his mother had, and muttered a final word of goodbye before taking off in the opposite direction.  

His carriage was empty, meaning Blaise and Theo had not arrived yet. Predictable from Theo, who could never wake up on time, but almost worrying from Blaise, who never missed the chance to be the first one at breakfast. Draco glanced out the window, pacing the compartment, thinking over all he had to tell the two of them since he had seen them last - two weeks ago to be precise. But a lot had happened in those two weeks. 

Suddenly the door slid open, and Draco turned, drawing breath, ready to start scolding whichever walked in first. But it was neither Theo nor Blaise. It wasn't even a Slytherin. A tall, beautiful girl stood in front of him. She had a crown of curly dark hair and pretty black eyes that were narrowed in his direction. 

"There you are," she said. "Why aren't you in the prefects' carriage?" 

For a moment, Draco's wits abandoned him and he paused for a second longer than he intended to. 

"Fuck,"

The girl looked as though she wanted to laugh, but rolled her eyes instead.

"Hang on," Draco said, catching her by the arm as she turned to leave, "I haven't seen you before, how are you a prefect?"

They were almost at eye level, which made it somewhat difficult for him to look down at the silver prefect badge she had pinned to her chest. 

"Dacia Lambani," She said, "Nice to meet you, Draco Malfoy."

He must have looked stunned because she added, "Yes, I know who you are, I'm not an idiot." 

This is not how you make a first impression, he goaded himself, trying to think of something clever to say.

Fortunately, he did not have to, because at that moment they were interrupted. Unfortunately, they were interrupted by the one person Draco had wanted to see least. 

"What in Salazar's scrotum is wrong with you?" Screeched Daphne Greengrass, framed in the compartment doorway, hands on her hips. 

"Daph-" Draco began, already exasperated. "It's not-"

"Not what? Not what Draco?"

"I'm going to go..." Dacia muttered, glancing between Draco and Daphne with clear disdain on her face. 

"What's going - oh." With even worse timing than usual, Theodore Nott stuck his messy brunet head into the compartment and raised a sardonic eyebrow at Draco from over Daphne's shoulder. 

Daphne looked over her shoulder and swatted at him with the sleeve of her robes, "Piss off, Nott." 

Theo grinned down at her then looked back up to Draco, "Trouble in paradise?"

Draco cringed, he could never know how badly he had just put his foot in it. "Leave it, Theo." Draco hissed.

"As I was saying," Dacia said tersely, "Prefects' carriage in five." And she left, not giving him so much as a backwards glance. 

The silence in her wake was deafening. Daphne was glaring daggers at Draco, who was careful to look anywhere but at her. Theo was clearly enjoying himself, leaning against the doorframe with a liquorice wand dangling from his lips which were warped in a self-indulgent smirk. 

Footsteps in the corridor turned everyone's heads.

"Am I late to the party?" It was Blaise, pushing his way into the compartment, and looking between the three of them with a sort of passive amusement. 

"I'll talk to you later, Daph," Draco said pointedly, pretending to get something out of his trunk. 

He didn't look up until he was sure she was gone. Blaise and Theo were now seated, and the train whistled to signal its departure. The carriage was silent save for the distant chugging of the engine and cries of farewell from the platform. Blaise had taken his usual window seat, opened a book, and busied himself with the pages. Theo was lounged across the length of the other bench, pushing more liquorice wands into his mouth. 

"So what was all that about?" He garbled.

"Nothing," Draco said, "Got to go to the prefects' cart, see you later."

"What?" said Theo, outraged, "You can't leave me alone with him the whole ride, what're we going to talk about? Books?"

"Of course not," Said Blaise coolly, "You'd have nothing to contribute."

Draco smirked, "Have fun," And he left, checking the length of the corridor just in case Daphne was waiting to ambush him. He wondered how late he could make that later. Ideally, he wouldn't have to talk to her at all but, no, that was immature, not to mention wishful thinking. As if his family would allow it, anyway. 

He stalked down the corridor mindlessly, ignoring the smaller faces that peered out of compartment windows at him, something like awe and fear in their blurred expressions. The thought tugged at his lips, and he held his head higher as he continued towards the prefects' carriage, which was very inconveniently at the other end of the Hogwarts Express. 

His mind was still far from the rumbling train beneath his feet when something squashy and fat whacked him in the back of the head. 

Draco drew his wand and spun around. There was no one there. The corridor was empty. The train seemed to go quiet around him. He strained his ears over the rumbling of the tracks, but there was nothing. 

"Homenum -" Draco began, and then paused. There was suddenly no need for the presence-detection spell. A glimmer of flaming red hair was fluttering in and out of visibility next the the green fields rolling past them outside the large train window. 

"Petrificus totalus!" He cried, just as a familiar voice countered with "Protego!"

The spell deflected and absorbed into the train walls, which were presumably hex-proofed. Before Draco could redouble his attack, the faulty invisibility cloak was whipped off and the sharp and glowing features of Avery Weasley materialised mere feet from him. She was studying his face with glee, a worrying aura of triumph about her fiery green eyes and red lips. 

"Weasley," Draco said cautiously, his usual way of greeting her.

"Malfoy," She grinned back, still staring him square in the face.

"Go on then," He said stiffly, "What did you hit me with? I don't have long."

"Just a pillow," She shrugged, and Draco could tell instantly that she was lying, not least of all because Avery Weasley did not waste her time throwing pillows at people. "It's a warm-up act, you know, thought I'd ease you in gently." 

"Hmm," Draco mused, turning to look at himself in the window reflection. There was nothing on him. "I don't buy it."

Her smile broadened.

"But I have to go."

"My heart aches!" She called out after him, and he cast a bat-bogey hex over his shoulder, which, judging by her cry of frustration, she had only just managed to dodge.

The prefect's car was in considerably better condition than the rest of the train. The red furnishings were unscuffed and the walls extended so that a large buffet table ran the length of the room bearing all sorts of tarts and cheeses. Draco strode in, his eyes immediately finding the girl from earlier - Dacia Lambani. She was sitting with a boy in Ravenclaw robes. Draco's nostrils flared. Sebastian Chu. Annoying, snobbish and a royal pain in the arse, Draco rolled his eyes at the thought of the boy ever being given any semblance of jurisdiction over Hogwarts. But she didn't seem to mind him, talking animatedly about Transfiguration, or something or other, and then she looked up. 

For one glorious moment, Draco assumed that this was merely the effect he had on women. Her eyes widened and her face seemed to be teetering on the edge of a smile. Sebastian was forgotten, all of her attention was on him. 

And then came the gasps and mutterings from the rest of the car, which, Draco slowly realised with growing horror, were all directed at him. When Sebastian turned around, he unabashedly broke into what can only be described as a guffaw.

"Malfoy!" He wheezed, gasping for breath. "The summer break was not kind to you I see," He grinned toothily. 

Not knowing what in Salazar's name the git was on about, Draco stared him down until his smile had worn off and his eyes returned to the floor. He was growing uncomfortably aware of everyone's eyes on him - and not in the manner he was used to.

"Here," Came a familiar voice.

Finally, Draco thought, some emerald robes. The other Slytherin prefect was Millicent Bulstrode, or Millie, as she went by. He found her to be perfectly tolerable; sensible and quiet enough that she generally avoided getting on his nerves, and plain enough that there was never any question of any unwanted mess between the two of them. Merlin knew he had enough of that on his plate. 

"Reverso," She muttered, pointing her wand at his head.

At once, Draco felt a curious sensation, as though a pillow had just been lifted off his head. Before he could help himself, he reached up and ran his hand through his hair.

"Don't worry," Millie said, "I did a good job, it's all back now."

Draco looked up in horror. The entire carriage was staring at him, including Dacia, whose lips were pressed together as though trying not to smile. What do you mean "it's all back now"? Draco echoed angrily in his head.

"Ah, another victim to Zonko's balding bomb?" Came a smarmy voice from behind him.

Hardly suppressing an eye roll, Draco turned. Cedric Diggory was standing in the door frame, a familiar look of smug superiority about him. Nothing had changed there then. 

"If this is your doing, Diggory -" Draco began, rounding on him.

Cedric held his hands up defiantly, "Let's not pretend either of us have any control over what Avery gets up to in her spare time," 

Draco opened his mouth to respond, or better yet, hex him, but the short and stout figure of Professor Slughorn appeared over his shoulder and Draco thought better than to start off his sixth year with his prefect badge being taken away. Father would not be happy. 

"Ah, I see you've all found the prefects' carriage," He mused happily, splintering the awful tension that had been lingering ever since Draco entered. "Very well, let's begin,"

Slughorn spent the next fifteen minutes delegating tasks amongst the prefects, splitting them into pairs and giving them shifts to roam the corridors and make sure that no unruly behaviour was taking place. Draco stared out of the window for most of it, thinking of all the unruly behaviour he'd like to be getting up to. Hexing Diggory for starts, then Chu, or maybe Chu, then Diggory, actually, maybe Diggory first, since he had the quicker reflexes. 

"Mr Malfoy?"

Draco's head snapped up at the sound of his name. "Yes, professor?" 

"Oh, I was just asking whether you mind being paired with Miss Lambani. I think some inter-house mingling would be good, especially seeing as Miss Lambani is new to us this year."

Draco did not take his eyes off Slughorn's watery grey ones. "No, of course I don't mind." He lied smoothly. Of all the first impressions he could make upon a person, he had never had one go quite so wrong as it had with Dacia. She had watched him gape like a guppy at the simplest of questions, then seen him bald. All he needed now was to trip in front of her and send his wand flying up his own arse and she'd surely be attracted to him then. This is your chance to amend things. A voice said in his head. Draco gritted his teeth. He had thoroughly planned on skiving off the prefect's duties to go and talk to Blaise and Theo, but he had the sneaking suspicion that that approach would not go down well with Dacia. Why do I care what she thinks? Who even is she? She's not pureblood.

Dacia was watching him steadily from across the table. He wondered if she was looking for some kind of weakness, a chink in his armour. She won't find one, he told himself, adjusting the signet ring on his left hand and straightening his robes. When he met her gaze, he got the odd suspicion that she was suppressing a smile. 

"Just one moment -" interrupted Slughorn as everyone got up to leave, "Mr Malfoy, Miss Lambani, and Mx Bones, I wonder whether you might stay behind just one moment."

Draco looked over to Thrace Bones, wondering how he had missed them. The minister's child. He wiped the surprise off his face and made a mental note to let Theo know that his number one competition was a prefect now. 

The three of them gathered around Slughorn expectantly. 

"After my brief hiatus last year - horrible case of Dragon pox, most unfortunate, all better now, of course - I've decided to restart my Slug Club." He said jovially. "Mr Malfoy, I'm sure you're familiar with the concept, although I did not want to trouble you with it in your younger years while you were still, uh, blossoming." 

Draco nodded, wishing he had chosen any other word. 

"All it is is a chance for me to get to know some of my, uh, more promising students," Dacia's eyebrows raised sceptically, but Slughorn did not seem to notice, "And you three have distinguished yourselves one way or another, so I would like to invite you to my own private compartment for some tea at one p.m. today, it won't clash with your duties, not to worry, not to worry, but I hope you can make it. Oh, and Mr Malfoy, please bring Mr's Zabini and Nott along with you, I should love to have them too." 

Draco had been expecting this ever since his father had steeled him for it, but the invitation sent a smug ripple of relief through him regardless. "Thank you, sir," He said, turning to leave. 

"Thank you, sir, but I have other plans," Spoke Dacia, her tone was defiant. 

Slughorn turned in surprise, "Oh, really, that is a shame, I'll have to catch you in term time then."

"I don't think so," said Dacia crudely. "I'm sure I'll be busy with some of the less promising students." She finished curtly, turned on her heel, and left. 

For the second time that day, Draco looked at her with his mouth agape. Who does she think she is? He looked to Slughorn, ready to nurse him with the flattery he was so partial to, but the professor seemed unaffected. 

"Well, it's not for everyone," He muttered, "I really only invited her to be polite to her father..."

He trailed off, busying himself with the untouched cheese, and Draco saw no better exit strategy than to leave the cart as quickly as possible. 

"Honestly," Dacia muttered as he joined her in the corridor. "Does the school know about this? It's so elitist - but of course you'll be going, won't you?" She added, looking him up and down. 

Draco regarded her coolly for a moment, then said "You don't want to make an enemy of me, Miss Lambani." 

"Oh really, Mr Malfoy?" She replied, "What are you going to do? Have your daddy kick me out?" 

Draco took a step closer, fine, if this is how she wants to play it. "I don't need my father to get people kicked out," He said quietly, watching her expression carefully. She really wasn't afraid of him. But she didn't respect him either, and that was a problem. 

"I'm scared shitless," She said, leading them down the corridor towards the rest of the train. "Believe me."

"Well if I'm not seeing you at one, I'll see you for our shift at four, or are you planning on avoiding that too?" 

"Of course not," She said, tossing her long hair over her shoulder so that its coconut and vanilla scent caught him off guard. "See you at four," And she disappeared into the train before he could so much as say goodbye. 

Draco stalked back to his compartment with his wand drawn, just in case Avery Weasley was waiting behind one of the doors with another balding bomb, but the walk back was thankfully much less eventful than the rest of his morning had been so far. When he had at last reached the other end of the train, he crossed paths with a tall man whom he had never seen before with dark brown hair and an ominous air of power about him. He nodded at Draco as he passed, his cold black eyes lingering on his face for an uncomfortable moment, and then he was gone. Draco looked after his retreating form, his black robes were expertly tailored and his shoes perfectly shined. Draco made a note to ask his father about the man, he must be someone of importance. 

The sounds of loud conversation drifting out of his compartment and down the corridor were welcome, if not a little unexpected given that it was just Theo and Blaise inside - or, as far as Blaise was concerned, just Blaise and his book. Draco was still trying to mentally prepare his conversation topics in order of importance when he paused, his hand on the door. There were three people in the compartment. His first reaction was one of Daphne-shaped fear, but he quickly realised that the third figure was a man, and therefore not intent on murdering him violently. 

Draco opened the door. Theo and Blaise were just as he had left them, Blaise by the window, and Theo taking up an entire row of seats. The third figure stood opposite him, framed by the grey clouds outside. He must have been a student, too, about their age, but Draco had never seen him before. Come to think of it, he could never remember having seen so many strangers on the Hogwarts Express in one day before. The boy had a scruffy appearance with dark, curly hair that hung over his forehead and deep brown eyes that were fixed unblinkingly on Draco. A little intense, he thought, raising his eyebrows at the boy. 

"And you are?"

"Mattheo here was just telling us about how badly he wants to destroy you," Theo groaned, sitting up and stretching like a cat. 

"Oh, really?" Draco replied lazily, his patience wearing thin. If this nobody could just clear off so he could finally talk to his friends in peace, then nobody would get hurt. 

"We told him we wholeheartedly support him," Blaise muttered, his head still buried in his book. 

"You two think you're so funny," Draco rolled his eyes, then looked the boy up and down again, there was something volatile about him, unstable. "Mattheo who?" He asked.

"Riddle," The boy answered, smiling broadly, there was something manic and sharp in his brown eyes. Draco put his hands in his pockets, his fingers curling around his wand. 

Theo's laughter cut through the air, "The Riddle family died out," He said. 

To his surprise, Mattheo joined in on the laughter, a harsh and forced sound that contorted his face with feigned ease, "Yeah," he sighed, almost wistfully, as though he were enjoying himself, "I'm not joking." And then he punched Draco in the face. 

Draco's hands flew straight to his nose, which was streaming blood, his wand forgotten. But he had been caught unaware once before that day and it sure as shit wasn't going to happen again. Before Mattheo could advance on him, Draco had crouched, squinting his eyes against the pain, and swung out his leg, it connected with the boy's knee, sending him cascading onto the compartment floor. He immediately began scrambling up, his robes sliding off his shoulders, revealing the muggle clothing beneath. The boy must have been lying, the Riddles were a pureblood family, why on earth would he be in muggle clothing? 

Mattheo's knee sprang up out of nowhere, and Draco had to roll onto his back to avoid it. The boy was now standing, a horrible glint in his eye. Draco made the disturbing observation that Mattheo was clearly much more adept at wandless fighting than he was. Another muggle trait, he thought savagely, fishing in his robes for his wand. 

"Looking for this?" Mattheo grinned, holding Draco's wand up.

"Expelliarmus!" Theo yelled, and Draco's wand arced high into the air, caught by Blaise, who pointed it at Mattheo's throat. 

"Don't move," He said lowly. 

Mattheo, chest heaving, took one fleeting look around the compartment, decided himself defeated and fled, leaving the door banging loudly behind him. 

"Should we go after him?" Theo asked in the stunned silence.

"No, leave it," Draco groaned, dragging himself up off the floor. Can this day get any more humiliating?  "Took you long enough," He growled through the blood dripping into his mouth.

"Nah," Theo said playfully, having decided that Draco was not so badly hurt he couldn't take a joke, "You had him,"

"Your faith in me is inspiring," Draco snarled, "Blaise, my nose." 

"Reparo," Uttered Blaise, his brows folded in concentration. 

Draco took his wand back, massaging his nose as he sat down and cleared the blood with his wand. "What the fuck just happened?"

"I - This guy - psycho - just came into the compartment, just before you got here, starts talking about wanting to kill you and stuff, obviously - obviously - we thought he was joking -" Stammered Theo. 

"Evidently not," Draco said dryly. "What a morning," He mused, mostly to himself.

"Why? What else happened?"

Draco filled them in on Avery Weasley's balding bomb, the new girl, Dacia, and her rude rejection of Slughorn's tea party - "which, by the way, you're both invited to," - and-

"You'll never guess who they've let onto the prefect team," Draco continued. "Sebastian Chu,"

"Not that cunt," Theo scoffed, just as Blaise let out a very obvious groan. 

"Oh yeah, also, Cedric Diggory and Thrace Bones," 

Theo cocked a brow, "Hardly surprising,"

"They'll be at the Slug Club too," Draco added, watching his friend's face carefully.

But Theo seemed nonplussed, "Whatever,"

Draco looked between him and Blaise, "Is that it? Whatever?"

"I'll take it, can't get him to shut up normally," Blaise said. 

"You know my parents actually asked me to suck up to them this year," Theo added. 

"Really?" Asked Draco, surprised, "You talked to them?"

"No," Corrected Theo, "They talked to me, or rather, they told me what to do. Nothing new there." 

"So will you?" Blaise asked, finally putting his book down. 

Theo shrugged, pulling something out of his pocket that was definitely not a liquorice wand and popping it quickly into his mouth. "Maybe, but if I do, it sure as shit won't be for them." 

"You're not going to sleep with them are you?" Asked Draco, barely hiding the judgment in his voice. "That would be quite the mess."

"Don't go putting ideas in my head, Malfoy, you know how suggestible I am," 

Draco rolled his eyes. 

"Speaking of," Theo said, much more lively now that the attention had deflected off himself, "What was with you and Daph earlier? Never mind that Riddle boy, I'd be keeping my wand out whenever she's around," He grinned and winked at the double entendre. 

Draco threw a pillow at his head. "Don't go there. I mean it, Nott."

"Okay, okay," Theo grinned in surrender. "But do go on, I could've cut the air with a knife,"

Draco sat back and rubbed his temples, "It's a long story."

"Can't be that long, we only saw you two weeks ago," Said Blaise.

"Well, in those two weeks, our parents - both our parents, but more my mother - decided they want us to... to get married."

Whatever Theo was chewing fell out of his mouth and landed on the floor with a dull splat. Blaise's features twisted into an uncharacteristic show of surprise. 

"Married?"

"Married."

"But you're not even of age yet - why now?" 

Draco shrugged uneasily, "I don't know, I could tell there was something they weren't telling me, but they seemed pretty set on it, not one of my favourite conversations."

"But you and Daph -" Theo began awkwardly, "It's - it's not like that is it, not endgame I mean,"

"No, I don't quite know what you mean," Draco said tightly, narrowing his eyes at him. It was no secret that Theo had always had his eye on Daphne, and apparently being his best friend's girlfriend hadn't been the deterrent it should have been. Nothing had ever happened between them, of course, and Draco would make sure that even if things did go sour between them it did not mean that Theodore Nott had his blessing, or even permission. 

"Just because you don't like the idea of Theo and Daphne, doesn't mean you want to marry her," Blaise pointed out. 

Draco shifted at the observation, "Perhaps,"

"And how did she take it?"

"We broke up," 

"What?" Theo exclaimed, barely contained glee plastered all over his face. 

"Theo," Blaise chastised. 

"How do you go from engaged to broken up?" Theo asked crassly.

"We were never engaged," Draco sighed. 

"Do your parents know?" Blaise asked pointedly. 

Draco looked down, "No, that's sort of the problem, they still think we're -"

"Together?"

"Going to get married,"

The two boys looked blankly at him. He half expected Theo to burst out laughing, or for Blaise to make some uncomfortably insightful observation, but neither of them made a sound. 

"So," Said Theo eventually.

"So, at Hogwarts, we're not together, but at home, we are - until we figure something out at least,"

"And you can't just -"

"No, Blaise, I can't just tell my parents that it's not happening, I can't even tell my father what I want for breakfast never mind who I will or won't marry."

"Well that is a conundrum," Theo yawned, sinking back into his seat.

"A conundrum?" Echoed Blaise, "Do you even know what that word means?"

"No," Grinned Theo manically, "But this edible is just kicking in and I honestly couldn't tell you what any word means," 

"You fucking idiot," Scolded Draco, "We've got to be at Slughorn's in fifteen minutes," 

But as Theo laughed heartily at the idea of showing up to Slughorn's little tea party in a different mental dimension, Draco found himself joining in, and pretty soon Blaise was chuckling too and the private Slytherin compartment rang with the sound of three boys laughing.