Snakes
“You’re staying here during Christmas ?!”
Draco almost winces at his friend’s expressions, even Crabbe and Goyal are looking at him like he’s announced he is secretly a muggle. Pansy’s mouth hangs wide open, Blaise’s eyes narrow and disbelieving. Flint is acting like he’s gone crazy.
In all reality, maybe he has. He’d begged Dumbledore not to make a big deal out of it, promising to be good and not try out any of the ‘experiments’ he and Snape had talked about. Anything to avoid spending time with his father without his mother there to protect him. Call him a coward, but Draco would much rather not deal with that at the moment. Besides, with the free time he could search for the Chamber in peace. And keep an eye on Potter.
“Yes. I am, and what about it?” Is his response, challenging and strong, nothing like what he actually feels.
Pansy grabs hold of his arm. Most likely making sure it’s really him and not an impostor. “But what about your family?! Won’t your father be mad? What about your mother?”
Draco shrugs, “”Mother is going to be in Paris the whole break, and father is busy with Ministry business. Plus, this means I can continue my private studies with Snape.”
“Don’t you miss you manor though?” Blaise tries.
Another shrug, “The sheets are always too cold for my liking this time of year, and mother won’t be throwing her annual party.”
His friends openly gawk now, uncomfortably so, almost enough to make him wish he hadn’t told them. “It’s fine,” he reassures, “I’ll still be getting presents, and they both write frequently, I’ll have the pitch to myself, and time to get ahead of my classes. I thought it was a great idea, really.”
Pansy’s hand comes to rest on his own, warm and grounding. “Yes, but what about the monster? Surely it’s not safe.”
He shoots her a smile, “I’m a pureblood, what’s the worst it could do to me? Really, a peabrain like Potter is more of a threat.”
And that he fucking is. Potions comes around, his favorite class of the day where he can get some frustration out and be led into doing silly things by Crabbe and Goyle like tossing bits of things right at Scar Face’s head. They’re brewing Swelling Solution, he’s half-tempted to snag a sample to use for next Halloween. Can’t really see his friend’s heads getting bigger than they already were, though. Pansy would kill him if he messed with her nose, rather disappointing because it would be awfully funny.
It must be karma or something equally ridiculous, like Potter and his bunch of friends, for example. One second he’s laughing with his friends, and the next something is landing in Goyle’s cauldron and their potion is exploding everywhere. His nose is suddenly the size of his hand and oh, he could never do something like this to Pansy. It feels awful , he’s grateful when Snape snaps out that he has an antidote. People are laughing through their swelling, most of the class can’t even talk through their enlargements, and he supposes it would be funny if he wasn’t one of the affected.
A single look at Potter’s grinning face and he decides he’s snag the sample after all. Pity if it found its way onto someone’s lightning scar.
----------
“A dueling club?” Draco gasps, “With Lockheart of all people? That man left Potter boneless! Why on earth would he be in charge of it?!”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkle looking at the two in front of him. Snape and Draco, both the picture of disgust and annoyance, mimicking one another with open sneers and their eyebrows furrowed in the exact same form. “Would it make you feel better if Severus were to be the other instructor?”
That gets him functioning again, laughing loudly at the sudden darkness on his Professor’s face. The image of Snape, formidable and intimidating, against the likes of that pompous prick. He had to see it.
“I will not spend more time with that fool, even if it is for the betterment of the students.”
Draco whirls on him, “But Professor! Think of how humiliating it would be for him? He doesn’t stand a chance against you! You could knock him on his bum faster than he can sign his own autograph!”
“Who’s side are you on?!” Snap glares, now met with two of the most persistent people he’d ever met. Even worse is the look of glee on Draco’s face. He hadn’t seen that in ages.
“Obviously, the side of good, Dumbledore saved me from the Dark Lord. How could I betray him over something this important?”
The child doesn’t even wither at the look he gets for that comment.
Dumbledore chuckles, moving forward to pat his arm and Snape instantly knows he’s lost. Draco can hardly contain his excitement.
“Come on, Professor. It’ll be fun! Maybe then he’ll stop trying to steal and sign your potions. I hear dueling is a great way to let out pent up frustrations.”
Dumbledore raises an eyebrow, choosing to ignore the balant tattle telling in favor of giving Snape one of his looks, the one that makes it very difficult to refuse.
“I’ll agree under one condition.” Draco doesn’t like the sound of that at all, especially not when Snape points at him. “If I have to suffer, you will do it with me.”
He’s left gaping, “But-“
“Come on, Draco. It’ll be fun, after all….I hear dueling is a great way to let out pent up frustrations…” A single sneer and Snape turns on his heel, stalking out of Dumbledore’s office and leaving the young boy flabbergasted.
“Really, you should have seen that coming. Severus is not one miss a payback opportunity.”
All Draco can do is glare. He glares while Fawkes comes to see him, he glares the entire week leading up to the first session, and he most certainly glares at the idiots walking in. As if Lockheart isn’t enough, naturally Potter and crew would show. Thank Merlin Draco remembered both his potions this morning.
“Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can everyone hear me? Excellent!”
At least this irritation isn’t Potter produced. Somehow it’s worse.
In all his overly fake glory, Lockheart muses on, spouting some bullshit about how wonderful he is, introducing Snape in a blatant lie. Really, to think Snape would agree just because Lockheart asked and blinked twice! Only a fool would believe that, the man’s sneer told everyone what he thought of Lockheart. Then again, only a fool would smile in the wake of Snape’s hateful expression, Draco knew that from a rather nasty personal experience.
The two professors turned, walked ten steps, and then faced each other to bow. Lockheart explains the basics, he ignores them because Malfoys learn at an early age how to duel. His first time hadn’t been pretty, but no one’s first time is.
“-Neither one of us will be aiming to kill.”
Oh but Draco knew Snape was. Maybe not in front of the students, but personally, he wouldn’t mind things getting a little violent. They count to three, wands at the ready, and then Snape cries ‘Expelliarmus!’ and Lockheart is thrown a good yard back, landing flat on his ass. Draco cheers, unsurprised that most of the other Slytherins are doing the same.
“I believe he rather deserved that” Blaise whispers beside him.
Draco chuckles, “I’d like to see him cast a spell, just once.”
“That would require him knowing how to use his wand.”
They shake with quiet laughter, shoving shoulders and then Blaise freezes.
“Draco, why is Snape looking at you like that?”
He tunes back into the conversation before him, Potter standing on the dueling mat, glaring at Snape, and the beady black eyes smirking at him.
“Mr. Malfoy,” He begins in a sickeningly sweet voice, “Come over here. Let’s see what you make of the famous Potter.”
Blaise pats his shoulder, but he can’t refuse in public, or even put up much of a fight, so Draco rises, making his way to the middle. All eyes lock on the two boys, they walk their ten paces, bow, and then raise their wands.
“One!” Lockheart hollers, “Two! Three-”
Draco’s spell hits the boy straight in the chest. Potter stumbles back, and he has half the mind to hex him again, the first time sent shivers down his spine. Consider this packback for your influence on my mental health, Potter. No sooner than a second after the thought leaves his head and Potter is shouting “Rictusempra!”
A blast of silver hits him before he can think about dogeing, and suddenly he can’t stop laughing.
“I said disarm only! ” he hears Lockheart shout. Fills in the gaps of the instructions he’d missed, but he’s too busy laughing to care. It feels like someone is tickling him and it takes a few moments to figure out that he’d perfectly guessed the purpose of the spell. If Potter wanted to play dirty, he could get behind that.
“Tarantallegra!” he manages between catching his breath, another bout of laughter squeaks out of him at the way Potter’s legs have begun to move. Off to the left he can see Blaise cackling at the two of them.
“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Lockheart calls out, making no effort to actually stop them. It’s Snape that mutters “Finate Incantatem” to cease the fight.
“Thank you, Professor, I do believe we should teach some blocking spells.”
Snape still has an unusual glint in his eyes, “Well we have the perfect pair right here, do we not? Or are these two students not good enough?”
Lockheart glares at the jab, Draco half hopes he’ll say ‘no, new pair’, but luck really has a nasty habit of never being on his side.
“I think it would work perfectly, if you would assist Mr. Malfoy?”
Snape nears despite Draco’s scowl.
“I assume you know how to block.” The professor whispers, it takes all his self restraint not to step on the toes beside his own.
“Yes, I do. I don’t, however, understand why I was picked for this particular activity.”
Snape smirks at him, “If I suffer, you suffer, Mr. Malfoy.”
He rolls his eyes but grins anyways, Potter is gazing at him with wide eyes, how could he not smile at that?
“Scared?” Draco mouths, if Potter is, they can put this whole thing behind them and Draco can count this as a new way to release the tension in his head. Of course, the dumbass has to mutter back “You wish”, meaning they are going to have to do this.
Lockheart says something else, pulling back despite the panic in Potter’s eyes. “Alrighty then! One!”
A sheer look of confusion and panic.
“Two!”
Wands raise, he almost laughs at the fumbling boy in front of him.
“Three-”
“Serpensortia!” Draco yells. The snake he’d summoned was one of his favorites, Polytimoes, a thin but long black snake who looked at him like they were sharing a secret before the screams started. Poly rose, ready to strike whatever danger came towards him, he almost felt the snake was glaring at his appointment.
“Don’t move, Potter.” Snape sighs, a lazy tone and even lazier movements. “I’ll get rid of it.”
“Allow me!” Lockheart yells.
Draco opens his mouth to protest, to tell them that Polly is a dear friend and he doesn’t wish to see her harmed, after all he would have to see her at the manor and preferred to not be at the end of an angry snake. Before he could explain, Lockheart pointed his wand at Polly and the snake flew into the air with a loud bang. Draco gasped, whirling to raise up a storm at his pet’s treatment, only to see Polly hissing angrily and starting to some Hufflepuff, probably to strike.
He’s opening his mouth to send her back home when something extremely peculiar happens.
It’s a stranger hissing sound, words are definitely underneath it, but he can’t make out what it is. Polly, however, does. Turning to look past Draco right at Harry fucking Potter, still speaking in the errie hissing voice.
Polly slumps to the floor, calm once again, very unlike the furious glare the Hufflepuff, Draco recognizes him as Justin Fletchley.
“What do you think you’re playing at?!” the boy shouts.
Draco would also like to know the answer to that question, along with the rest of class. They all stare at the confusion on Potter’s face. It’s like the idiot didn’t even know he had spoken parseltongue. When he thinks about it, Potter more than likely doesn’t know, which really makes the whole thing a bit funny. He’s so busy watching he doesn’t see Snape vanish his friend, but he does see Weasley tugging Potter away. This year kept getting better and better.
----------
“A Parselmouth! Who would’ve thought?”
His friends laugh, and for a moment Draco pretends it’s funny too. Snugly sitting between Blaise and Pansy, he feels almost safe. If he closed his eyes he could pretend they weren’t all leaving in a few days. The three of them let their legs dangle off the astronomy tower ledge, enjoying the view of snow covering every inch of the Hogwarts grounds. It’s beautiful, pure. Something that hasn’t been stained yet. Much like him, pure for the moment.
He hadn’t been forced to do anything but protect yet. His hands were still clean, and yet he had the horrible feeling that one day even his perfectly manicured nails would be covered in blood.
“Draco?” Pansy leans on him, in turn he leans on Blaise, who supports them both.
“What’s going on with you? You’ve looked more and more vile leading up to the break. You’re not trying to scare off the beast are you?”
“Seriously, even the seventh years are starting to get nervous around you.”
He shrugs, “I had no idea they were so taken with my second-year charm.”
“More like the glare you inherited from your father.”
Blaise realizes the mistake he made the second Draco sends his infamous icy glare his way, rushing at an apology before he gets hexed like a first year had that morning. Pansy comes to his rescue, rubbing the boy’s arms. “If this is about Christmas break, Crabbe and Goyle are staying behind too, right? You won’t be alone, and you’ll have two perfectly willing people to bully.”
“It’s no fun when they’re willing” Draco pouts back.
They chuckle again, all too tired from classes to bother moving, besides, the warmth from either side of him is grounding.
“Draco, I know you’re going to hex me for this….” Blaise begins, “But should you need someone, even just to vent and then Obliviate, I’m here.”
“Me as well,” Pansy adds after a moment of quiet, “You’ve been changing this year. Getting darker, and we’re worried. Slytherins don’t let each other suffer alone, it’s not good politics and you know it.”
He doesn’t speak for a while, and when he does it’s a pathetic excuse of hiding the truths that catch up to him in bed every night.
“I’m merely growing up a little early, I assure you I’m fine and well, just maturing is all. Perhaps I’m meant to be a violent moody public figure for the rest of life. Scaring people into submission is just a perk, isn’t it?”
His words are bitter even to his own ears, and his friends no doubt hear the pain behind it, moving to say something else that might break him for a bit. Fortunately, they hear footsteps running up the tower and Flint is bursting into the room.
“There’s been another attack, are you all safe?”
The three are on their feet before he finishes his sentence, Pansy asking the question for all of them, “Who?”
“Justin Flinch-Fletchley.”
“Isn’t that the muggle-born Potter frightened half to death the other day?” Draco asks.
Flint gives him a nod, “Potter was the person who found him too, he’s already been taken to the headmaster, and we, that means all Slytherins, have been ordered by Snape to return to the dungeons. Christmas break might be the only thing saving our reputation now.”