He needn't have bothered. Almost as soon as he'd finished talking the door was slamming open and Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle all came in, talking loudly. They stopped when they saw Harry.
"You're still here?"
Draco rose to his feet. He didn't brandish his wand, but it was still in his hand from earlier. "He's going to be here as much as I please. Deal with it."
"Didn't know you had to hide behind a Gryffindor, Mal... shite, don't know what to call you." Zabini grinned then, the expression just plain mean. "On the other hand... Malshite actually works. Yeah, Malshite. Oh what, you don't like it? Are you going to run crying to Snape?"
Draco had looked angry at first, but by the time Zabini stopped speaking, his expression was under control. He looked mildly amused, in fact.
"Malshite's pretty accurate, actually. For Lucius, I mean."
Goyle laughed and came the rest of the way in, then settled onto his own bed, propping himself up on his pillows. When he kicked off his shoes, Harry struggled not to make a face. But the stench! It really ronked.
Crabbe was laughing too, but not as much as Goyle. Zabini glanced at them both crossly, as if this wasn't going the way he'd planned. His gaze caught on Draco's wardrobe, still open.
Sauntering forward, he ran his hand across the clothing hanging askew. When he turned around, his smile was simply malicious. No other word for it. "What happened to all your things, Malshite?"
"Snape."
Zabini wanted answers enough to play along, apparently. "Yeah, Snape. So where's all your stuff? You had loads more than this." He walked over to peer down into Draco's open trunk. "Looks like you're all settled in. What happened, your rich daddy took back all the things he'd ever bought you?"
Draco's silver eyes glinted, though his voice remained calm. "Something like that."
It was Goyle who spoke next, his own voice thrumming with concern instead of malice. "But what about your private vault, Draco? You can just buy a bunch more stuff to replace what your father took from you, can't you?"
"Professor Snape's my father," answered Draco.
Goyle blinked slowly. Three times in a row. After than he nodded. "Uh-huh. But what about your private vault?"
Draco's whole body relaxed, his grip on his wand actually becoming slack as he gave a careless shrug. Even his eyes stopped glittering. Harry thought it was one hell of a pose. Apparently his brother could lie when it suited him. He just wasn't so good at verbal lies.
"Ah. Well, I lost that too. Long story, Greg."
Zabini, it seemed, was just as dense as Goyle at times. Of course, he just couldn't believe his ears. "You're poor? You?"
Draco just stared at him, a pleasant smile on his face, one eyebrow raised as if to say that yes, poor was actually the opposite of rich.
Zabini exploded in laughter.
Crabbe glanced from Draco to Zabini, clearly deciding whose side to take. In the end he laughed a little, the sound of it uncomfortable. Goyle, on the other hand, shook his head.
"That's too bad, Draco."
Draco's smile became something a little more genuine. "Yeah, but even mountains of Galleons aren't worth all that much if you end up a slave to the Dark Lord. I'm better off now."
"Better off," gasped Zabini, holding his side now, he was laughing so much. "Oh, Merlin. If only Pansy could have seen you brought to this, she'd have got over her weird fixation--"
That was all it took for Draco's control to snap. In less than an instant, his wand was pointing at Zabini's throat. "Don't speak ill of the dead."
Harry jumped up, his mouth going dry. This was all they needed, Draco hexing somebody on his first day back...
"Touchy, touchy," sneered Zabini. "If you want to duel, Malshite, just name the time and place. But make it after the Quidditch match, not before."
"Yeah, Malshite," echoed Crabbe, who'd apparently chosen sides by then.
Goyle closed his eyes like he just wanted to go to sleep.
"Come on, Vince," said Zabini with one last, contemptuous glance at Draco's raised wand. "We have better things to do than hang around with the poor boy and his Gryffindor brother. I can't decide which would be worse. Being poor, or Gryffindor!"
Once the door slammed behind them, Goyle opened his eyes. "Gryffindor is worse."
The comment broke the tension. Draco lowered his wand as Harry laughed a little.
"I need help in Defence," Goyle went on. "Think you could, Draco?"
"Sure." Draco summoned his book and went over to sit at the end of Goyle's bed. "You want me to read you the chapter we're in, or start in on the next one?"
"One we're in."
Draco nodded like he'd been expecting that.
"And I need help with spells, too," added Goyle, sounding a little worried.
"I'll partner you tomorrow," promised Draco. "Thursday too."
That was when it hit Harry. Draco was going to be in Defence class with him. Draco was going to see Aran spewing all his rubbish about Parseltongue being too evil to be allowed in class...
I'd better warn him, Harry thought. Otherwise, with his impulse-control problems...
Yeah, the last thing they needed was Draco attacking a professor. He'd get expelled for good. After what Harry had just seen, he didn't have much reason to believe that Draco wouldn't pull his wand when he got angry.
Harry bit his lip. He didn't want to explain about Aran, because he knew full well what Draco was going to say about the matter. Tell Severus, Harry. On the other hand, though, Draco would probably understand why Harry didn't want to do that. The Slytherin boy wasn't going to bring his problems with fitting in to his father, after all. He'd looked contemptuous when Zabini had suggested he might. Draco was going to handle things himself.
So yeah, he'd probably would see why Harry needed to do the same. Well, hopefully....
Realising he was biting his lip, Harry cut it out. "Um, Draco?... We need to talk."
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Coming Soon in A Year Like None Other
Chapter Eighty-Nine: What's Inside
Comments very welcome,
Aspen
Chapter 89: What's Inside
http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=5036&chapter=89
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A Year Like None Other
by Aspen in the Sunlight
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Chapter Eighty-Nine:
What's Inside
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Harry was halfway through his waffles the next morning when Ron turned to him. "So, is it true, then?"
"Is what true?"
"About Mal... Draco. Your brother. Is it true he's poor after all?"
Uh-oh. The look in Ron's eyes was nothing short of malicious. "Where'd you hear that?"
"Seamus said Dean said Parvati told him Lavender had overheard some Slytherins in the hall laughing about how Draco doesn't even have a pot to piss in. Is it true?"
Harry decided there was nothing for it but to put a good face on the matter. "Yeah, it's true."
"You told me he'd got himself another fat vault and he might be richer than ever!"
"He did, and he might have been!" Harry felt a bit stung by Ron's tone. "But it didn't work out. Legal stuff, inheritance law. It's complicated," Harry added, though it wasn't, really. But the details really weren't his to spread around. "Ron... you're above making fun of someone for being poor, aren't you? Even if it's Draco? Who... uh, probably deserves some payback?"