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Chapter 25 : The Unhappy Three
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The fifth years and seventh years were a harried lot, pestered as they continuously were by their professors. Hermione and some Ravenclaws were the only ones who managed to stay on top of things; the rest scowled, complained and scratched away with their quills. Harry and Ron had even more reason to complain as Hermione was absolutely refusing to help them, for their own good of course, and was not to be swayed for once. Some poor, misguided souls from other houses who were on their House Quidditch teams and also had OWLs or NEWTs to worry about decided to take the matter up with Professor McGonagall to be exempted from homework, but after spending two nights buffing up trophies without magic with Filch decided to just work harder. The Gryffindors could’ve told them that, but as Ron put it, some things had to be experienced.
Draco wished he knew a spell to triplicate himself so that while one Draco could study for NEWTs, the other could practice with the team and the third could pursue other activities, like sleeping, eating, socializing and grooming himself. Not for the first time he wondered how the head girl managed to do everything, and had actual suspicions that she might very well have found such a spell and was shamelessly using it to taunt slightly less brainy individuals. But then he decided that as she didn’t have Quidditch and was not very particular about her appearance, she was probably managing just fine. What a pity St. Potter and his loonies had smashed the ministry’s entire stock of timeturners back in their fifth year; they could’ve come in handy now. Draco would’ve simply asked his father and he would’ve got one for him somehow…but Lucius was in Azkaban, and had been since those timeturners had been smashed, because of St. Potter and his loonies…aaargh! Draco was trying really hard to get along with them for the sake of his own skin in the long run, but the thoughts of his father rotting in that hellish place and the sight of his mother wasting away due to that made his hatred for Potter and his cronies rise to epic proportions. Well, he would just have to try harder.
Hermione was properly busy. She had more subjects than anyone else, researched every topic more than anyone else, had Head duties, read up on Magical history and anything on Founders in her spare time to help Harry with his quest for locating and destroying horcruxes, hung out with her friends, spent some very agreeable time with Ron, and yet managed to set aside at least half an hour every evening for Draco. They had a few disagreements, of course, but all in all, talking with the Slytherin was getting to be very pleasant as he could be very charming if he put his mind to it. And sometimes he really put his mind to it. How she wished Ron would look at her like that, would not stop when she told him to…in general, became just a bit more like Draco when it came to romance. And then she was properly horrified with herself for thinking that.
Even with all this going on, the news that the Slytherin Prince had become ‘friends’ with one of the hottest girls in school, and one of Harry Potter’s friends to boot, had spread like wildfire and was still one of the hottest topics under discussion. Theories ranged from Draco using Sia to get to Harry, to Harry using Sia to sabotage the Slytherin team. Those who knew Harry, or the Slytherin team, argued against that last part though. Some also thought that the friendship was just a ruse to hide a steamy affair, but seeing that Draco could be seen chatting to a different girl every few days, decided that the fiery Gryffindor wouldn’t have stood for such humiliation. But everyone agreed that something was definitely going on.
For their part, Draco and Sia had not tried to hide this ‘friendship’ of theirs. They would smile or wave at each other whenever their eyes met, would work in library together –something that amused Hermione to no end as neither had ever cared to be seen in such an ‘uncool’ place before, would sometimes sit together in their DADA theory classes, would sometimes spend their free time just talking to each other. They attracted a lot of attention but both seemed not to care.
Of course, some of the attention was rather personal. Harry kept a very sharp watch on Draco, fully intending on finding out what the Slytherin was up to. And he made sure to make it plain to Draco that he was being watched. Ron, for his part, was rather uncomfortable at having ‘the slimy git’ around, but felt unable to do anything about it as he was under a wizard’s debt. Hermione, being herself, was secretly very happy that Draco was getting closer to her friends. She felt that being with them would make his eyes open to the horrors and realities of Voldemort’s ways and then maybe, maybe, he would join the right side. But she wisely kept all this to herself. Ginny was torn between her utter disgust at having Lucius Malfoy’s son around her and enormous relief that he took up so much of Sia’s time and attention that she no longer seemed to hover around Harry all the time.
But there were three people who felt more than most about the situation. Their reactions were different, the reasons behind them even more so, but all of them were uncomfortable. One of them, predictably enough, was Pansy.
Having known Draco since childhood, she knew that the time when Draco would be ‘just friends’ with a good-looking girl was long gone. It had been a very long time indeed when she, Daphne, Draco, Blaise, Vince and Greg had been just friends. Those equations had changed a long time back, and so had Draco’s perceptions of the female gender. Having had a huge crush on him since they were nine, she had never wavered in her affection for him. She had always been loyal, well, almost, except for once, but that couldn’t count because even then she had loved only Draco. But she was digressing here. Ok, so she had thought her dreams had come true when he had fallen for her when they were fourteen. And he had fallen for her, she was sure of it. She had been so happy, and had even started doodling various designs of wedding robes in her free time when all of a sudden Draco had changed. It had been a big blow to her last year when term had just started and she had caught Adrianna Broderick, a seventh year, coming out of the dormitory he shared with his friends wearing his cloak, and only his cloak. She had yelled, cried, threatened to break up, and all he had done was just sit there and look at her. When, fifty five minutes later, she had simply crumpled with exhaustion, he had walked over to her and said that it didn’t mean anything, and that she was still his girlfriend. He hadn’t apologized but she had forgiven him with all her heart; after all, she loved him. But the next week it had been Christina Selwyn, another seventh year, and then Elladora Flint, and after going through every above-average looking Slytherin girl from fifth year and up, except Daphne and Claire, he had started on Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. And everytime he had been with another girl, Pansy’s heart had suffered a painful blow. She had even wondered why he didn’t break up with her if he didn’t want her anymore, and whenever she had worked up the courage to leave him, he had planned a special night for them and had just taken her breath away.
She had come to the decision that he truly loved her and was just going through a wild phase, what with his father’s arrest and all, but then he had crossed the line when he had lured Claire to his bed. Claire had been her best friend ever since Daphne had sort of drifted away, and she had been shocked to the center of her core when she had found out about her and Draco from Daphne. She had been so angry with him she had wanted to hex him into oblivion, but had taken it out on Claire instead. After all, she should have had enough sense not to be taken in by Draco’s charms. And what sort of a friend sleeps with the boyfriend of her best friend, anyway! They had had a huge fight, and then Claire had moved to United States.
That had been last year. This year, he had seemed less interested in other girls and more interested in staring off into space, and she had breathed a sigh of relief, thinking her perseverance had paid off and his wild days were over. But then he had started flirting with that new Gryffindor, who seemed to be proficient at Glamour Charms. Imagine changing from a hag to a siren overnight! But that hadn’t lead anywhere and she had put her mind to rest. That was until she had seen him staring at the mudblood who was flaunting her goods so shamelessly. What a desperate nutcase, and people called that ‘thing’ clever! And imagine, she had ended up with detentions! It was a good thing professor Snape had changed his mind about seven and only made them serve four, but that was probably because he liked Draco so much. And ever since then, Draco had been preoccupied; he was either matching wits with the henchwoman or practicing with the team or studying. It had been a long time since he had spent a night with her, and she had yet to be invited to see the Heads dorms. It hadn’t particularly mattered to her since she knew Draco was not involved with another girl either. Having known him since she was four, she was able to tell things about him just by watching. When he was nervous, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked straight ahead, acting cool. When he was scared, he crossed his arms. When he was baiting someone, he checked his cuticles. When he was angry, his eyes became silver. When he was in the throes of passion, his eyes turned almost black. When he was thinking, he sucked on his quill. When he was unsure, he ran his hands in his hair. When he was trying to look cool, he would brush off imaginary specks of dirt off his immaculately clean robes. When he had been in a fight, he would stare out of the window. When he had been with a girl, he would eat a big breakfast and then skip lunch. And since that hadn’t been happening, she knew Draco wasn’t seeing anyone.
She knew him so well she could almost be his wife. And indeed that’s exactly what she wanted, though she was aware that Lucius and Narcissa weren’t too fond of her. So long as Draco wanted her though, she wasn’t worried about that. But then there were times when she thought she didn’t know him at all. She didn’t understand why he spent most of his time visiting in Slytherin common room just brooding silently, why he was no longer interested in mocking the Golden Trio, why he had drifted away from Vince and Greg, and even before that, Daphne! Why he seemed to have lost his enormous sexual appetite, why he was no longer interested in girls, why he had stopped his mudblood and Dumbledore jokes, and why he had suddenly become obsessed with Gryffindors! It just wasn’t done! If he had simply gone after the Gryffindor she wouldn’t have thought much about it, except wonder at his tastes, but this ‘friendship’ thing was freaking her out. After all, lust was temporary and fleeting and easily quenched, but friendship had a very scary long-term sound to it. Unless of course, her very Slytherin boyfriend was up to something.
It had been a very long time indeed since he had been genuinely interested in someone or something. He did not put up a cool, bored façade just because it was, well, cool, but also because he was truly bored. There were very few things about Hogwarts that excited him now, after seven years, and his life outside school had nothing much to offer either. But this friendship had him interested, very interested indeed.
He had learnt to ignore and be ignored very early on in life. Isabella Wood Ivanovitch Zabini Marceau Patel Flint Anderson had let her only offspring know pretty early on that he was an accident, and the only reason she hadn’t got rid of him while he was still inside her was the lack of ring on her finger from old Vittorio Zabini. She had had to use an unwanted son to get the old, lascivious jerk to exchange vows with her, and he had conveniently widowed her before Blaise was two.
Isabella had fully recovered from the setback of having to lug a son around by then. Her ebony complexioned, almond-shaped eyed beauty was as radiant as ever, and her figure by then showed no sign that she had ever been pregnant. Of course, Zabini’s fortune had also helped to attract the attentions of Philippe Marceau. But he had been a disappointment for his mother as the only thing to his name had been a chateaux somewhere in France. Poor Isabella had been widowed even before she celebrated her first anniversary with her fourth husband. But she had put the chateaux to good use, charming the very wealthy and very gullible Jignesh Patel there, and celebrating their honeymoon there too.
His second stepfather had been an English citizen and they had moved across the channel. But Patel’s lifestyle had been a severe letdown for Isabella. Inspite of being very wealthy, he lived a simple life and wanted his beautiful, obedient wife to do the same. His wife had secretly gnashed her teeth and sweetly followed his diktats till she made sure he changed his will and introduced her to someone interesting. That someone had been Appolonius Flint, Marcus’ uncle, and Isabella had been widowed soon after.
If Blaise had thought his mother honestly capable of loving someone, he would’ve said she loved the man. At least she didn’t spend all her time planning his early demise. She enjoyed life with ‘Apple’, as she liked to call him, for he showered her with gifts, compliments and what nots, and the only men she met who were richer and more powerful than him were all out of bounds, even for Isabella. Marcus’ father was a foul-mouthed man who made no bones about the fact that he thought his brother’s wife to be a deadly whore, Nott was definitely not interested in remarrying, Warrington, Parkinson and McNair were quite lecherous but Isabella knew male gender enough to know they would never marry her, and the rest were just not rich enough. The only man she would’ve happily widowed herself again for was Lucius Malfoy, but he was so in love with his wife that it had put Isabella in a foul mood for quite sometime. So a five-year-old Blaise had resigned himself to having to put up with ‘Apple’ for quite sometime.
In all fairness to the man, he had never been mean to Blaise; he had just ignored him. Ignoring a five year old when faced with a beauty like Isabella’s was excusable, in Blaise’ opinion. In any case, his mother had already warned him to neither interfere in her affairs nor try to get close to his stepfathers. And Blaise had been happy to comply. He had no friends, but his mother and stepfather were rich people, so he had plenty of toys. He and Marcus mutually disliked each other, so playing with him or his mates was out of question. Young Blaise passed his time waving his toy wand around, fiddling with gobstones, dousing the pieces of wizard’s chess in fountain and watching them squeal and such. One day he had been trying to play Exploding Snap alone, and that was when Draco Malfoy had walked into his life.
Draco had been visiting Marcus with his friends, and upon hearing stories of his pretty but vicious aunt and her weird son had decided to take a look at them himself. He had surveyed Blaise with as much arrogance and disdain as a six year old could muster, but still somehow, at the end of that strange visit, Blaise had found himself with an invitation to visit the Malfoy Manor. Perhaps it had been the fact that Draco had found him to be smarter than Greg and Vince put together, or maybe because he was just a boy his age, but Blaise had found himself spending more and more time with Draco and his friends. Before long, he was firmly entrenched amongst them, and he, Draco, Greg, Vince, Pansy and Daphne became very good friends indeed. They would spend endless hours playing in the Manor or the various gardens surrounding it, frequently getting lost. Blaise had seen some really big houses, such as Marceau’s chateaux, and Apple’s house wasn’t exactly small either, but the Manor had seemed endless to him then. He had been in awe of everything about it; its imposing size, its location in the breathtaking Wiltshire county, its grandeur, its beautiful and strange collection of things from all over the world, the sense of history the manor encompassed within it, the sense of old magic that the Manor virtually thrummed with, the beautiful gardens and fountains around it, and he hadn’t been the only one in the group to be so awed.
With them, he had discovered the meaning of the word ‘fun’. He had learnt to climb trees (which Vince excelled at with his long arms), race a toy broom (where Draco always won), play dumb charades (where the girls always beat them), wrestle in the mud (where they had to run off in the end to avoid being pulverized by Vince and Greg), play deatheaters and aurors (where Daphne and Draco teamed up and always beat the rest of them), compete in pie-eating (winners-Greg and Vince all the way), hang upside down from trees to see who could do it for the longest time (where Greg set a record because he had got his foot entangled in branches) and much, much more. Much to Draco’s chagrin, Daphne had been the leader of their group. It was she who would come up with what to play, where to play, which prank to pull, and the one to sort out scuffles that frequently broke out amongst them. Pansy had been fun to be around as well, but she almost always followed whatever Daphne said, while Greg and Vince always followed Draco.
Things had started changing between them when they crossed nine. Instead of being six friends, they had somehow become a group of two boys, two girls and two idiots. Pansy and Daphne had suddenly realized they were girls and couldn’t wrestle in the mud or hang upside down from trees or compete at pie eating. Pansy had also taken to staring at Draco for no apparent reason, and now agreed with everything he said instead of Daphne. They had also developed an irritating habit of discussing highly irksome things. Greg and Vince had grown, not just in size, but also in stupidity and an urge to follow Draco around, which they did, and started obeying him numbly like trolls. Draco, for his part, had grown in assertiveness, nastiness and slyness, with the result that he had taken over the leadership of their group from Daphne. Blaise himself had found that he had no desire to follow anyone around and wanted to be Draco's equal, not his follower. They had started growing apart, though they still hung out together, interactions with girls had become aggravating, and they had taken to spending days without bothering to invite them. And then before they had realized it, those uncomfortable two years had passed and they had received their Hogwarts’ letters.
Even today Blaise couldn’t honestly decide whether Draco’s entry into his life had been a blessing or a curse. Anyone would think it to be a blessing, as without Draco he would never have known what it was like to have friends, or to have fun. Draco was the reason he had had something resembling a normal childhood, the reason he had not turned into a misogynist or a serial-killer. And yet, it was because of Draco that he had found out what he was missing in life. Draco had had almost everything; he was the heir to one of the largest fortunes in Europe, was the scion of two of the oldest pureblood families, had a powerful and formidable wizard for a father, had an army of house elves to do his every crazy bidding, had a huge manor that he called home, had people treat him deferentially, got away with almost anything, and most importantly, had parents who loved him.
The way Lucius had always laughingly given in to whatever Draco had wanted, the way Narcissa had always fussed over him, the way they had always applauded whenever Draco won their races, eventhough he did it on a daily basis, the way Draco almost bullied them, made them do silly things like making animal noises, all this and more had always surprised Blaise. In fact, what Blaise had really been in awe of was the ease with which Draco always approached his parents. It wasn’t about whining for a new toy broom, Blaise could have had one too, but the fact that Draco could walk up to his father and demand it. It wasn’t about refusing to eat cereal and wanting to gorge on sweets instead, but the fact that Draco would pull innocent faces at Narcissa and she would knowingly shake her head and give in. Blaise had always hated asking Apple for anything even though he knew he would get it, and approaching Isabella for anything was out of question; he was most comfortable when his mother ignored his existence. Blaise had spent many nights wondering what it would’ve been like had he been able to switch places with Draco. He had imagined himself lording it over an army of house-elves, ordering Vince and Greg around, strutting through the Manor with arrogance, but mostly, walking through the grounds with Lucius’ hand on his shoulder, or being tucked into bed at night with a story by Narcissa. He had sometimes hated Narcissa as being the reason he couldn’t have Lucius for a stepfather. After marrying one useless lump after another, trust Isabella to lose her whoring instincts when it came to the one man he really looked up to. Or perhaps he had looked up to Lucius because he was immune to Isabella’s charms. Whatever, but life sure was a bitch as far as he was concerned.
And then there was Hogwarts. Being Lucius Malfoy’s son had made Draco a sort of royalty the moment they had stepped inside their common room, and Blaise had got his first taste of what having a powerful name meant. Draco had been spared the traditional Slytherin initiation ceremony the rest had had to go through, he had never been made to copy homework for senior Slytherins, he had never been bullied, made to sleep on the floor, or made to do a whole host of unmentionable things the first years had to go through in Slytherin House. To top that he had a good head for Potions and had become Snape’s favourite. And in their second year he had wormed his way into the house team and straight away begun to enjoy priviledges that only Quidditch players, prefects and seventh years had; comfortable seats by the fire in the common room, a right to have the dorm to themselves if they so wanted, relegating their homework to other people, having access to bathrooms only meant for prefects and Quidditch captains, and having a horde of girls drooling all over you. Thank Merlin, Draco was a complete greenhorn at handling the last one though.
That had been the only good thing about being with Draco at Hogwarts. Inspite of having grown up hanging upside down from trees with two girls, Draco didn’t know how to behave around the opposite sex. Maybe because he had never looked at the two as girls, and when they had started exhibiting girl-like symptoms, he had preferred to hang out with boys instead. And Blaise had decided to take advantage of that. He spent the first three years observing girls closely, figuring out what they liked and disliked, what kind of boys they found cool and what turned them on and what not to say or do around them. By the end of the third year he had a fairly good idea about what girls wanted, and he had decided to put his knowledge to test. That summer many things had happened. Apple had finally died, Isabella had married Tim Anderson, a pureblood squib who owned oil-fields in Texas and had moved with him, he had courted Daphne, lost his virginity and had started his fourth year as a man.
Over the next two years, he had perfected the technique of looking bored and enigmatic, or cool, and helped on by the good looks inherited from Isabella, who had once again been widowed, he had become the favourite boy toy of senior girls. He had learned enormously from them and had practiced on willing girls his own age. All the while, Draco had made an utter fool out of himself by chasing after Pansy. The way the two of them were all over each other all the time was sickening, but Blaise had not complained. Finally, he was better than Draco at something, and was waiting for the opportunity to rub it in.
The opportunity had presented itself right at the start of their sixth year, when something about his friend had changed. From a loyal Pansy-lover, Draco had become a wannabe playboy. Blaise had been overjoyed that the time had come for him to outshine Draco and watch him lose at something. As a good mate, he had egged Draco on and encouraged him to enter into a bet as to who was the more prolific playboy. And to his utmost horror, he had watched Draco win yet again. It had nothing to do with experience or technique at that time; it was Malfoy name against Zabini name, and Malfoy name had won. Girls had flocked to him simply because he was the Draco Malfoy, seeker on the house team, Snape’s favourite, and what not. And Quidditch had given him a good physique, Blaise had to admit. The fact that his father was now a known Deatheater and cooling his heels in Azkaban had not deterred from his popularity in the slightest; in fact, it seemed to have added to his appeal as a bad boy. And Draco had become the Slytherin prince, leaving Blaise in the shadows yet again.
Blaise truly believed the title rightfully belonged to him as without the Malfoy name Draco would never have been able to outshine him. He had waited for an opportunity again, and that Raisingh girl had walked into the school. She was hot and didn’t want anything to do with Draco. Perfect. He had laid the trap, and after giving him some anxious moments Draco had fallen for it. Blaise had been happy; the girl was a Gryffindor, sacred Potter’s friend and hated deatheaters. There was no way she would let Draco touch her with a ten-feet pole. But now they were friends. Oh, he knew what that meant. Draco was unable to score with her any other way and so was going for subtlety. Blaise didn’t like it one bit; his dream of seeing Draco bite the dust and admitting defeat to him had been about to come true, but the stupid Gryffindors seemed bent on ruining that. He neither knew nor cared exactly how Draco had managed to befriend the girl and hoodwink Potter at the same time; after all, he was a sly Slytherin, but he was now afraid of losing the final chance to walk away from Draco with a winning smirk. Isabella had decreed that she wanted him to live with her in Texas after finishing his school, and time was running out. For the first time in his life, Blaise actually wanted Potter to wise up to Draco’s plan and pummel his reputation into the ground. Inspite of going against the Slytherin prince, the idea was still so very Slytherin.
If there was one thing about him, and there were several, it was that he was not stupid. In fact, he was quite clever. No Ravenclaw worth his salt could be considered stupid, and yet, that was what his girlfriend thought he was. And the word girlfriend to describe Sia hardly seemed appropriate, Terry thought wryly. After all, they scarcely had done anything like that.
Sia was a good kisser, he’d admit that. But that was all she allowed him to do. Kissing, yes, a little bit of groping, ok, but the moment he wanted anything to do with skin, it was a big no. And she didn’t do any of the stuff that girlfriends usually do for boyfriends either. Padma had thrown a surprise birthday party for Anthony recently in the common room, complete with a birthday cake that she had baked herself in the school kitchens. Emilie frequently pranced around the common room sporting that sissy Zabini’s tie, and Michael was bragging just yesterday that Cho had sent him her bra for his birthday over summer. He was ready to wager his next grades that Sia didn’t even know when his birthday was. Even the brainy Granger could be seen snogging Weasley when she thought no one was around, and the smouldering looks Ginny Weasley sent towards Harry Potter were soon to become a part of Hogwarts’ lore. Sia didn’t even look at him unless he was standing directly in front of her. Mandy hung on Nick’s every utterance as if his words would unravel the shortcut to create Philosopher’s Stone, and Hannah Abbott had succeeded in making the normally stuttering Neville Longbottom sound like an orator. He would be so lucky if Sia even heard half the things he said. And the really insulting part was that she thought he couldn’t understand what she was doing.
She was using him, plain and simple. He didn’t really mind that part because he was using her too. It would’ve been catastrophic if he had fallen for her, but he hadn’t. Sure, she was stunning and hot and the object of desire of half of Hogwart’s population, but he wouldn’t have gone out with her just for that. After all, Miranda Goldberg of Hufflepuff was all that and more. No, the reason he had willingly dumped Romilda for Sia was that the elder Gryffindor was also intelligent. That Experimental Magic she had unleashed on Parkinson had clinched the deal in her favour. Clever, and very creative. Ingenious. He just couldn’t let a hot girl with brains go by when she was clearly interested in him too, could he? He had acted suitably awed by her, and his worth in the common room, and indeed among the male population of Hogwarts, had gone through the roof.
He had thought, initially, that maybe they could become a real couple, come to care for each other as couples normally would, for he had genuinely liked Sia. He had been taken in by her wit, captivated by the fragrance of her thick, wavy tresses and dazzled by her knowledge of both the Muggle and the Wizarding worlds. And she was definitely easy on the eyes, too. But Sia’s disinterest in him had blown that stupid infatuation away most determinedly, and he had persisted with this charade of a relationship merely to satisfy his curiosity. After all, why did the girl need a fake boyfriend when she could have her pick of a real one! It had taken some time, but the answer had come to him eventually. She was interested in someone else, someone she couldn’t have, and didn’t want that someone to know she was interested in him. Either that, or she was a lesbian. But he thought the former was more likely. And what infuriated him about this was, she could’ve come clean with him about her intentions once they had gotten to know each other better, but she hadn’t and had continued to lie, which was frankly an insult to his intelligence. They could’ve been a formidable team with their brains, and he would’ve helped her achieve whatever or whoever it was that she was after. But no, she had to make the mistake of underestimating a Ravenclaw. Too bad now she would reap the consequences.
He even had an idea who he was. It was either Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy. He wasn’t sure which one, yet, but he would find out. After all, there were not many boys who could keep that firecracker in line. He had initially assumed it was Potter, and since he was more or less committed, he had actually begun to pity Sia. But then this ‘friendship’ had come into being, and he had suddenly remembered that trick Malfoy had pulled on him about a Ravenclaw attempting to commit suicide, and he had reevaluated his assumptions. At that time, Malfoy’s trick had puzzled him and he had shrugged it off, thinking the Slytherin was losing his touch if he had resorted to pulling such juvenile pranks. But now, his choice of a prank looked more interesting than ever.
So Malfoy was interested in Sia. As far as he could see, it wasn’t exactly a crime as the school was full of boys who were interested in Sia. But the fact that Sia still held on to him stated that she wasn’t interested in Malfoy, not yet, anyway. Or maybe she was holding out for something, like a commitment. If she was, then he pitied her even more, because he knew Malfoy. He would never commit himself to a halfblood no matter how bewitching she was; a few rolls in the sack was all she could hope to get from him. Or maybe she was really interested in Potter and was simply waiting for an opportunity to replace Ginny Weasley, and didn’t see Malfoy as anything other than a friend. Hmmm.
He would wait and see how this drama played out, and continue to act the caring, besotted boyfriend in the meantime. And once he did find out who exactly it was for whom Sia had tried to fool him, well, then, that unfortunate person would find out why Terry Boot had been placed in Ravenclaw inspite of being a pureblood and a reasonably brave person who was loyal to his friends. He was not going to simply forgive and forget like a sweet Hufflepuff, nor brandish his wand in public and take on the idiot in a duel like a stupid, daring Gryffindor. He wouldn’t even ambush Sia in stealth like a Slytherin. No, he would make a plan that would hurt the guy in question, which would in turn hurt Sia, and make sure that it was never traced back to him. And he really hoped that that guy turned out to be Malfoy; he was itching to show him why Ravenclaws would never do something so foolish as to climb all the way up to the Astronomy Tower and tire themselves out if they really wanted to die. Plus the fact that he didn’t really want to hurt Potter, who could well be the Saviour of the Wizarding world in future. With Malfoy, he wouldn’t need to hold back at all, and it would even be fun, a mental stimulation to plan every detail of the Head Boy’s downfall. Terry smiled; he really hoped it was Malfoy.
A/N: Another chapter, and inspite of not having any dialogues, so far my favourite one. Its odd, I know, calling a chapter favourite when you have written them all, but I rather liked going off into this tangent and viewing Draco and Sia through the eyes of other people. It somehow makes them more human, seeing as smarter people than them also exist, and could bring about their downfall anytime they chose. Writing Pansy and Blaise was fun; and imagining the six friends having fun as kids was really nice. Don’t worry, everything has relevance, except for the pie-eating competition, perhaps. Lol. But seriously, it is important as it shows certain aspects of Draco and will explain some things about him later. And since this story is about Draco, everything about him will be dealt with. And I had to give Terry his due. When even Ginny knows that Sia is not serious about him, I couldn’t let a Ravenclaw remain in the dark, could I? And anyway, manipulation seldom brings good results in the long run, as Draco and Sia have to find out. Next chapter, focus goes back to our ‘Sunday Club’, and it should be fun. So do let me know how you find this chapter. Plz review.
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