Chapter 5 : Women Rearing
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Draco and Daphne left the classroom and ran smack dab into a traffic jam in the hall. Draco craned his neck to see over the crowd, and found...Pansy and Blaise in a heated conversation. Those around the fighting couple were silent, but those trying to get around were loud and protesting at the sudden stop in hallway traffic. Draco couldn’t hear a thing except he understood the fact that Pansy appeared to be screaming at the top of her lungs and Blaise was trying to match her tone. Suddenly, he seemed to have something that stopped Pansy in her tracks. She looked at him, absolutely murderous, then quite suddenly slapped him right across the face with a resounding crack like a whip. Then, without warning, Professor Snape was out of his classroom, and the crowd parted as soon as they caught sight of his dark shadow. Draco watched as the whole hall went silent.
“Is something amiss, here?” The professor loomed over the two bickering students.
“No. No, there’s nothing wrong, sir,” Blaise answered, forcing his hand off of his cheek and down to his side. Draco had the distinct feeling that he was trying to protect his own reputation, rather than Pansy, from the wrath of Snape. He would have bet anything that Blaise would rather have a thousand detentions than have another man, a professor but a man nonetheless, think that he had no control over his woman. It was, after all, the way of a Slytherin.
“Miss Parkinson?” Snape looked to her dark haired girl who looked close to tears. If his back had not been to the general crowd, everyone would have seen the pity mingled with concern in the professor’s dark eyes, greatly contradicting his scowl. Pansy ignored it and simply nodded her concurrence. She had, on more than one account, lied to her head of house about her emotional well-being. Why would this time be any different?
“Very well. To your next class then,” Snape said and with a snap of his cloak, he pivoted to return to his classroom.
“Come along, Pansy,” Blaise said in a stage voice, trying to take Pansy’s hand in an affectionate manner, his eyes scanning the hall for any who might believe otherwise.
“I hate you, and I’m not going anywhere with you, you great prick,” Pansy replied calmly and turned on her heal and ran down the hall as quickly as she could.
Draco watched her run past him, her face in her hands.
“Well. That just absolutely proves that they don’t belong together,” he said definitively.
“What do you mean?” Daphne asked boredly as she began walking down the hallway without him.
“Well, you see, she would *never* have acted that way were she my woman. It’s all a matter of women rearing. You have to be firm,” he said arrogantly.
“Women rearing?” Daphne sputtered, stopping to look at him with a look of disgust and fury.
“Yes. Women rearing,” he said again, clearly not comprehending her homicidal face.
“Oh. You great big jerk I don’t know why I’m helping you. You’re on your own ” She shouted before walking away at a pace to rival the school train.
Draco stood there, alone, and completely unaware as to how he could have possibly erred.
“Women. I swear. They can’t stand me in this life, and I can’t stand this life ” He huffed under his breath. He could think of nothing better to do, seeing as he had lost an ally and his schedule on feet in one fell swoop, so he headed off towards the library. Screw his next class, if he had one. He happened to look out the window and experienced immense de ja vu as he saw Pansy standing outside, pacing small circles around the same exact tree as yesterday. He stood for a moment, debating on what to do. He could go to the library and study for a class he wasn’t even sure he had, or he could go out side and try to win some character points with Pansy. The choice was obvious.
He headed up the stairs to the main hallway and out the front doors. Then he turned the corner and found her now sitting, banging her head on the tree trunk. He approached her slowly, because she clearly hadn’t heard him.
“You know, that’s not good for your head,” he smirked. Her head snapped up and her eyes were quick to form a glare.
“I don’t need you and your weird fetish with me right now, you loser. Get away from me,” she snarled, getting up.
Taken aback for a moment, Draco opened his mouth to yell back at her. First of all, he did not appreciate being called a loser, and second of all, he did not have a fetish. But he rethought it.
“Whoa. Relax, would you? Gods, you’d think you were the minister himself, the way you throw around those commands. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I was under an...erm,” he had to think quickly. Lie, Draco, make something up, anything “A, uh...a love potion Yeah, a love potion yesterday. I’m over it now, though.” He mentally wiped his hand across his forehead for the quick thinking. She looked at him for a moment, eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Fine then. Apology accepted. Now leave,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Did I say that was an apology?” He sneered. “No. It was merely a statement explaining my behavior. And what did I say about this ordering people about?” He was taunting her, and he knew the last thing he should have been doing was taunting, but he couldn’t help it. (Pissed off Pansy or no, he was a still an overconfident Slytherin.) A fire lit up in her eyes and she balled her hands into fists.
“Whatever it was, you told me. So you can leave. And that was a suggestion,” Pansy added as Draco opened his mouth with, what she suspected, another smart answer on his tongue.
“So it was. That means that I don’t have to listen to Your Highness,” he mock bowed and continued to stand, staring at her.
“Fine. Don’t leave. See if I care,” she changed her tactic, turned, and slumped back against the tree. Draco inclined his head a bit in acceptance of her challenge. He stood for a minute, hands in his pockets, book bag next to him on the ground. After another few seconds, he began whistling the latest song from The Weird Sisters and rocking back and forth on his heels. Pansy huffed and scooted to sit on the other side of the tree so that her back was to him. Draco whistled even louder.
“Ugh Shut up ” She finally got back up and screamed at him.
“I thought you didn’t care if I stayed, so I figured you wouldn’t mind if I whistled to keep myself occupied. You’re incredibly boring,” he said, raising a blonde brow.
Pansy began sputtering. “Boring? Boring? ? How dare you I am a Parkinson, and you are not fit to spit shine my shoes ” She shrieked.
“Oh, and Blaise Zabini is? Well, bully for him. I’d hate to deprive him of being around you, especially because you’re so charming, ” Draco smiled scornfully. He could play this game for hours.
Pansy fumed silently for a moment. “My personal life is none of your business, so you’d best shut your face before you say anything I’ll make you regret,” she hissed.
“You mean your father will make me regret it, don’t you? Please. The man is too busy having an affair with every secretary at his ‘office’ to even see you,” Draco retaliated. He was laying on a low blow, and taking a shot in the dark with that comment. He wasn’t sure if Mr. Parkinson was the same that he used to know. But all pureblood fathers were the same.
Pansy was struck dumb. Her lower lip trembled before she whipped out her wand. “Take that back. I don’t know who you are, or how you know that. And I don’t care, but you’d better take that the hell back,” she said, her eyes oddly devoid of emotion.
“Go ahead. Hex me,” Draco said, getting ready for a mental block if she did do it.
“You’re not worth it,” she said disdainfully before pocketing her wand.
“Thought so. You rich kids are afraid to get your little porcelain hands dirty. The Dark Lord would cringe at the thought of having you by his side. You’re pathetic,” Draco said, pulling out insults that he had heard lesser beings use against him, fused with insults his father used against Crabbe and Goyles’ fathers.
“Don’t talk about things you don’t know, pauper,” Pansy spoke as if the word left dirt on her tongue.
“Well, I’d rather be a rational pauper than a stupid princess,” he spit back, his pride hurt.
“Stupid? You so don’t know who you’re dealing with ” She was shrieking again.
“I’m sorry. I thought I did. So you’re not a stupid little princess, then? Let me guess. You’re a poor little fool.” Draco said, derisively. “Either way, only a moron would go around with a bag of hot air like Blaise Zabini.”
“Oh. And who would you have me engaged to, then? Hmm?” Pansy asked as if she cared.
It was like a slap in the face. “Engaged?” Draco almost choked.
“Yes. You see, it’s what people do right before they get married. People that have the means, that is,” Pansy wrinkled her nose in false pity for him. “Oh. I see. You were hoping I would consider you? Ha Fat chance, pauper.”
“I wouldn’t want to be engaged to a stupid cow like you. Do us all a favor. Don’t flatter yourself,” Draco collected himself.
Pansy made a high pitched sound from deep within her throat and her face mottled an unattractive red as she went for her wand and froze.
“Miss Parkinson. It would appear that you continually don’t get along with the male members of your house. Mr. Malfoy, what is going on here?” Professor Snape was back. Apparently, he had heard the ruckus from the Great Hall, where students could clearly be heard going to their next class. Due to the argument, both of them had failed to notice the bell toll.
“A friendly discussion between house mates, professor,” Draco said, falsely cheerful.
“I see. And what do you consider to be an unfriendly discussion, if you draw wands during friendly ones, Mr. Malfoy?” Snape asked with deadly calm.
“One with fists, professor.”
“That will be enough out of you, Malfoy,” Snape suddenly snapped. “Miss Parkinson, I will ignore your second offense of the day if you go back to your classes and do not miss any more for the rest of the week due to your unpredictable love life.” Snape said with slight sarcasm.
Pansy nodded silently and hurried back up to the school. When Draco moved to follow her, Snape put up a hand.
“Not so fast, Malfoy. Come here,” he said, and crooked a finger at the blonde young man.
“Draco. You cannot go picking fights with the children of rich purebloods. Do you understand me?” Snape’s harsh tone of seconds ago vanished and was replaced by a quieter one and his glare with an urgent one.
“Excuse me, professor?” Draco asked, hardly believing his eyes.
“Your parents are not of the Dark Cause, and therefore, when you antagonize Death Eaters’ children, you put their lives in jeopardy. I strongly advise you not to do so anymore. Yes, I heard of your little confrontation with Mr. Zabini yesterday,” the older man said, putting a hand on Draco’s shoulder.
“Yes professor,” Draco replied, lowering his head. Were his parents really in danger?
“To your classes then, Malfoy,” his professor said, his stern ton reappeared when some Hufflepuff students were seen making their way to the greenhouses and were within earshot of them. Draco inclined his head once to Snape and turned quickly on his heel to return to the castle.
“Daphne?” Draco said, looking up suddenly from his lunch when he heard himself addressed. He couldn’t have been happier to have his ally back.
“Don’t talk to me. I’m only here because of this infernal spell,” she hissed through gritted teeth. Draco didn’t say a word but bowed his head over his food again and smiled to himself.
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