The Internal Devices

Chapter 6

Draco felt a witch sink into the space beside him at the Slytherin table and reach for an apple. For once, he didn't expect it to be Pansy, who had previously been the witch he was most acquainted with. As of late, Pansy's newest fancy was Blaise Zabini. They were probably off in a broom cupboard somewhere committing acts entirely unseemly for a pureblooded heiress. Instead, Hermione Granger had recently begun taking meals with the Slytherins. Draco didn't mind much, except for her inability to understand personal space. When she righted, the scent of coconut filled his nostrils as her bushy hair covered half his face.

"Oi! Granger! Your bloody curls are going to suffocate me!"

"Oh don't be ridiculous, Malfoy," she replied good-naturedly but pulled her hair into a loose ponytail. She didn't bother wasting any more words on him before directing her attention across the table to where Theo was sat.

Draco had been watching the two of them interact over the past few weeks with great interest and growing amusement. Theo had always been warm, but when he looked at Hermione he practically shone. He'd have to be daft to miss the longing in his friend's eyes. Draco stifled a snort with his hand, then ran his fingers through his hair.

The three of them were twenty minutes early to breakfast, which had become their habit. Draco fiddled idly with the rings on his fingers while Hermione and Theo chatted about the day's lessons. He wasn't much for conversation most mornings and instead chose to sip his tea and slowly stack the walls in his mind. Draco retreated into his thoughts until his friend's voices were no more than a murmur. Once safely inside, he examined the chaos.

Images floated haphazardly, full of memories and ideas alike. To the left, he saw a younger Draco flying a small broom around the yard, Narcissa laughing a few paces away. Straight ahead stood a deadpan Draco, roughly sixteen years old, reporting something to the stern image of his father. Music flitted through the air, and the Hogwarts Express rattled in the background. Something caught Draco's eye to the right, and he decided to begin cleanup there. It was a muggle typewriter, which was odd. He drifted over to get a closer look.

The typewriter was spewing out paper every few seconds and parchment lay in heaps on the floor. He bent down to read the top of the stack.

"1001 Insults to Draco Malfoy, as told by Lucius Malfoy" he muttered incredulously. Draco sighed and tore the sheet in half, kicking the worthless muggle machine as he did so. It only jingled and continued typing. Sometimes his mind really was intolerable. He didn't have time for this.

With a swish of his wrist, he conjured an obsidian maze. The walls reached over fifty meters high, and dark clouds fell over the tops. Brilliant. It was time to get to work.

He vanished the infuriating typewriter far into the depths of the maze, in no hurry to read the contents of those papers. He leisurely strolled through the maze opening, placing a hand on the wall as he passed by. It was impenetrable, just how he preferred it. He took the first turn into the maze and firmly placed the image of young Draco on a broom here. It was mostly harmless, and therefore it could stay. He took another turn and arranged the image of the train here. Another turn, another memory, on and on and on. He was meticulous in his placements, making sure it appeared random in chronology but all the while protecting his most precious and most damning memories in the heart of the obsidian maze. No one had ever broken through his outer walls, but he wanted to be prepared. Voldemort had returned once, he wouldn't put it past the Dark Wizard to do it again.

Satisfied with his mental labyrinth, Draco deftly exited his mind, Occlumency intact for the day. When he opened his now grey eyes, he was surprised to see both Theo and Hermione staring. Theo had his lips pressed tightly in a line, but Hermione appeared intrigued. Neither said a word. He heard students begin to stagger in for the morning meal. Benches scraped at the floor and conversation wafted toward their end of the room. Draco cleared his throat.