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Not exactly life as he knew it by Shoequeeny
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Not exactly life as he knew it

Shoequeeny

The silence at the Slytherin table was disturbing. Draco could see Potter and his little gang sending them suspicious looks, as though their silence was indicative of some malevolent plan the house had thought up. Trying to ignore the fact that Ginny, unlike her brother and his cohorts, was sending him concerned looks, Draco retreated back to staring into his cereal.

"Draco?" Teddy's voice shocked him out his deep contemplation of the soggy flakes. Glancing up at the boy who was watching him hesitantly, Draco arched an eyebrow in response. "Have you done that homework for transfiguration?"

It very unlike Theodore Nott to sound unsure about anything but the look in Draco's eyes right then and his behaviour over the past week had him sounding very unsure. Draco could see Pansy shooting them furtive looks from the corner of her eye, whilst Millicent looked on worriedly, Blaise with an indefinable expression just stared at them and Crabbe and Goyle continued as though nothing was happening, which they probably assumed was the truth.

"Of course, I have," Draco glanced round the rest of the table, "After all, it wouldn't do for my grades to slip now, would it?"

Pansy blanched at the words, though the others seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at Draco's less than volatile answer. Draco nearly winced at his housemates reaction to him. He knew he'd been in a bit of a bad mood since he'd received his mother's letter, a mood that he hadn't wanted to spend too much time attributing a cause too, but he hadn't realised that he'd been that prickly with his friends.

Draco knew the value of allies and all of them had been raised in that same mindset, meaning that Draco had no qualms viewing his friends as potential enemies or supporters when envisioning his future. With this thought came the realisation that he had better start pulling his people back into the ally camp before they all retreated to someone who didn't have one of Pansy's black clouds permanently hovering over their heads.

This resolution was dashed the instant that Blaise without even glancing at Draco, threw a letter at him.

Draco, having been hit in the forehead by what he would later claim was the 'evil, pointy envelope', said to Blaise with venom; "Goddamn, Blaise! What? Is owl post just too plebeian for you now-a-days?"

Blaise didn't look up from where he was spooning his porridge into his mouth. "Just read it, Malfoy."

With an exaggerated sigh that had Pansy smiling, due to how 'Draco' it was, he ripped open the letter and scanned the contents. His face froze into an expression that had the first years quickly finishing their breakfast and scurrying from the hall.

Pushing his chair back with a loud screech that echoed around the hall, Draco crumpled the letter in his fist. The denizens of the other tables stared at him in unabashed curiosity though many of the younger students looked like they ached to follow the example of the first year Slytherins.

"Blaise, a word," Draco's icy voice was directed at Blaise who merely looked up from his breakfast with an innocent expression.

"But I've not finished," he said in an insolent tone that made the rest of the Great Hall cringe in anticipation of Draco's reaction.

"Now, Blaise," Draco ordered, gritting his teeth.

"I've not finished, Draco," the insolent tone was gone from Blaise's voice, replaced with the same iciness found in Draco's.

Draco stared at him, his cold, grey eyes expressionless. "Blaise." The one word was said dangerous and low and Blaise looked at him hard, as though understanding the hidden statement behind it.

Pushing his chair back slowly and dropping his spoon in the porridge, Blaise slowly ambled out the hall, hands stuffed in pockets nonchalantly. Draco followed behind him, his smooth, graceful steps reminiscent of a predator stalking his prey.

*

As soon as the pair reached the Slytherin common room and Draco had sent the first years running with one cruel glance, Draco rounded on Blaise, eyes blazing.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?" he yelled at Blaise, who was coolly leaning against the mantelpiece.

Blaise didn't reply for a moment, making Draco even angrier. "I'm becoming a Death Eater," he looked at Draco whose mouth was set in a fine line, "I thought the letter was quite self-explanatory."

"Blaise!" Draco shouted, loosing all his usual self-control, "Why would you do this? I know you too well to think that it's just because you're jealous."

Blaise stood from the mantelpiece, his eyes flashing as viciously as Draco's. "Of course it's not jealousy, Draco. Did you forget that we've both wanted this since we were children or has your blown-up ego twisted things so that you're the only sixth year Slytherin allowed to have the Mark?"

Draco ran a hand through his hair, the cool mask slipping for a moment allowing Blaise to see a distraught face that shocked him.

"For God's sake, Draco. We both wanted this," he said, sounding terribly close to pleading, his voice rough.

"You're using the past tense there, Blaise."

"I'm aware of my grammar. I still want this. I'm just beginning to wonder about you."

Draco span to stare at him, the firelight casting into shadow his angry features. "Of course I damn well want this! It's my father in Azkaban! I'm the one with revenge issues here, Blaise!"

"Then it's fine, isn't it?" Blaise said, his voice silkily dangerous.

Draco stared back at him, fuming silently. "I suppose it is."

He turned to leave, pausing by the door to say to Blaise; "I just hope you understand what you've gotten yourself into."

Blaise stared at his back. "Do you, Draco?"

Draco turned his head and smiled without any humour. "No."

*

"Are you okay?" The kindly voice directed at Draco, made him glance up in surprise. He hadn't expected anyone to find here him, among the bushes at the edge of the Forbidden Forest with the snow lightly falling around him. But someone had found him through the white curtain that had enveloped Hogwarts that week. Ginny's worried face frowned down at him and Draco felt a thrill at the thought that she was worried about him. But he wasn't feeling like playing nice with the littlest Weasley, even if she was the best looking of the whole lot of them.

"I'd be better if you weren't here," Draco said abruptly, his attention returning to the trees in front of him.

Ginny frowned but didn't move to leave, just dropping down next to him. "You don't look okay."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't you have somewhere else to be? Discussing hair charms with Granger maybe?"

Ginny laughed. "Hair charms with Hermione? You really are off your game today, Malfoy."

Draco grimaced. "Fine then, shouldn't you be playing hide the wand with Oafish Dean?"

"Hide the wand?" Ginny looked disgusted, "That's gross, Malfoy, even for you and 'Oafish Dean'? Why on earth do you call him that?"

Shrugging, Draco said; "Perhaps because he's oafish?"

"He is not oafish in any way, shape or form!" A wicked gleam appeared in Ginny's eye. "You wouldn't be jealous, Malfoy, would you?"

Draco looked at her disgustingly, squashing down the little voice that told him she had hit the nail on the proverbial head. "What on earth is there about Oafish Dean that I could be jealous about? His amazing good looks? No, because the boy looks like a manic pair of garden shears attacked his hair with the sole intention of making people scream in horror when they looked upon him. His astounding sense of wit? I think not, I have more wit in my little toe. His academic ability? Can the boy even spell academic? His snazzy dress…"

"Okay, okay," Ginny interjected, "I get it. You're not jealous of Oafish…" she saw his grin and caught herself, "of Dean. So back to my original question; are you okay?"

Draco sighed, looking away from her. "Whatever makes you think that something is the matter with me?"

"Aside from what I always think is the matter with you?" He shot her an irritated glance which she ignored, "And a disturbing new aspect of your personality when it comes to you naming Gryfinndors? Probably just the fact that you're sat all alone at the edge of the Forbidden Forest looking as though your favourite pet just died."

"Never going to happen," Draco said assuredly.

"What isn't?" Ginny asked, puzzled.

"My favourite pet dying," Draco explained in a cheerful sort of voice, "I don't have one. Any animal that I grew attached to, Father would have killed." Ginny looked horrified and Draco shrugged as though it was a common occurrence in the Malfoy household. "It was better that way. Emotional attachments are bad for everyone involved."

He glanced at Ginny as he said this, taking in the way her brown eyes were filled with compassion. He sighed irritably, not used to the expression and disliking the way that he liked her aiming it at him. "What did you want, Weasley?" he asked bluntly.

"I…I…" she gathered herself together, "I was going to practice quidditch and saw you looking desolate in the snow and thought that I should check that you were okay."

"Why would you do that? We're not friends." Draco said, finality ringing in his voice as he said the last part.

Ginny actually laughed out loud at the idea. "No, we're not. But I'd do the same for anyone when they looked as upset and as close to hypothermia as you did, Malfoy."

"I'm fine," he turned to her, suddenly angry though he couldn't tell the source of it. "So why don't you go an find someone else to pester?"

Strangely for Ginny, she didn't get angry, merely stared back at him, evenly. "I also came to see you because of you and Blaise arguing at breakfast."

"We didn't have an argument."

"Then the whole school needs retraining in their body language reading techniques."

"Then they really should get a new teaching position open because we didn't have an argument."

"Then why are you sat out here?"

Draco stared at her icily. "I wanted the silence."

Ginny sighed, annoyed, and stood, brushing the light snow off her cloak. "Fine then Malfoy. I'll leave you to your silence. Good luck getting that to help you with your problems."

"I don't need you help with my problems, Weasley," Draco replied, all anger gone from his voice, leaving it sounding hollow.

"Like I said Malfoy, I would've done the same for anyone," Ginny still sounded annoyed, though she hadn't missed the melancholy timbre of Draco's tone.

"Don't do it for me."

Ginny shook her head and turned to go, his voice stilling her before she took three steps.

"It's like I said, emotional attachments are bad for everyone involved."

Ginny watched him for a minute, cool grey eyes regarding the trees in front of him, empty in their icy contemplation. His expression didn't reveal anything to her, the cool mask as cold as the air around them, his aristocratic features pale in the lightly swirling snow. The only sign that she even had that he was alive was the breathes of air that left him in white steam, filtering through the snow.

*

Draco had been in a foul mood all week so he wasn't particularly thrilled when Snape came and retrieved him from Charms to go and see Dumbledore. Stamping along the hallways alongside an impassive Professor Snape, Draco scowled thinking how the last thing he needed was to see the senile old man who always preached about the vomit-inducing good fight.

When he walked into Professor Dumbledore's office Draco quickly scanned the room, taking in the strange instruments that filled the shelves. He glanced at Dumbledore amid his perusal, his gaze freezing as it fell upon the other occupant of the room.

"Mother?" he asked incredulously, Narcissa Malfoy's figure looked out of place in the Hogwarts setting. His father's presence in Hogwarts had been expected, his father such a big part of both his worlds, but to see his mother in a place ridiculously far from home brought Draco up short.

"Don't gape, Draco. It's very unbecoming," her smooth tones echoed around the silent room as she rose from her chair and glided over to him, raising a silk gloved hand to his cheek though she stopped a few inches away from his skin as was her customary manner.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I just wasn't expecting to see you here." Draco kicked himself for the way his tone came out grovelling, a tone as unbecoming to a Malfoy as gaping. His gaze flicked instinctively to Professor Snape who was watching the proceeding from Dumbledore's side.

"It seems that your mother wishes you to join her at your home this weekend, Draco," Snape said, his tone not betraying any of his feelings on the subject.

Draco's heart gave an involuntary leap, whether in happiness or fear he couldn't tell. Schooling his features into what he knew from experience was an innocent expression he turned back to his mother.

"Oh?" he said, his eyes conveying his real question. So, it will begin?

Narcissa nodded her head slightly in answer to her son's unspoken question. "Yes, dear. I thought it might be nice for the two of us to spend some time together." She looked at the two professors and smiled weakly in a perfect impression of a lonely woman, "I just get so dreadfully bored on my own."

Draco could tell that neither of the professors believed a word his mother was saying. There was no way that Narcissa Malfoy was ever going to be a lonely woman in pain. She'd been that far too often when her husband wasn't in jail and she'd managed then with her many 'friends'. It was also public knowledge that she was a strong woman, one who would never break down in front of other people.

Draco took in his self-possessed mother who was regarding the professors through watery eyes. He knew she knew all that. And she wasn't worried, otherwise there was no way that she would have come personally. It meant she had nothing to be afraid of. Draco felt a thrill as he realised how much power the side he was offering himself to possessed.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, resting his hands on the desk in front of him. "Whatever the case may be, I must say that it is very uncommon to take students out of school for the weekends, especially with the Christmas holidays so near."

Narcissa barely held back a sob, the perfect actress. "Surely he is my son and he is allowed to come home with me?" The warbling words held a threat that Draco knew Dumbledore noticed.

"I'm ahead on all my work, Headmaster," Draco interjected, suddenly realising that his silence might appear as though he didn't want to return home. He saw Snape's lips thin further at his voice and Draco once again wondered why his Head of House would think of holding him back from something so important.

Dumbledore glanced up at Snape who nodded tightly in agreement. Dumbledore sighed and pinned Draco with bright, blue eyes. "Then I suppose there is no way that I can stop you from returning, Draco."

Draco stared at his Headmaster for a long moment, wondering if his mother had caught that underlying message.

Narcissa smiled delightedly. "Then it's all settled. Draco, dear, just floo home on Friday at six." She leaned in and hugged him lightly, her hands barely touching his skin. Her lips by his ear, she whispered; "Be prepared, my son. I hope you are ready."

Draco gulped and forced a smile on his face. "It will be nice to be home for a few days," he looked at Snape, who was watching them with a pained expression. "I best get back to Charms. Mother, Professor Snape, Professor Dumbledore." After an inclination of his head in each person's direction, Draco fled down the stairs, trying to will the coiling mass in his stomach to still.