Imbroglio

Chapter 4: Malfoy's Mannerisms

Asmodeus P.O.V:

Asmodeus ate his breakfast as calmly as he could, gleeful in all aspects. The boy was a Malfoy! He had always been wary of the only other Malfoy he knew- Abraxas as he had caught him staring at his ass like it was a piece of meat on many occasions. Not to say Abraxas wasn't gorgeous- by god he was- His long, Platinum blonde hair surrounded his face like a halo on an angel. But it was a pity, Abraxas always had a sneer on his face juxtaposing his fair features and ruling out any attractions for him.

"Mate, are you alright? You seem sorta lost today..." Said the tall redhead on his right, slightly bumping his arm against the side of his ribs. As soon as it made an impact, he had to stifle a jump. He hadn't really thought about it before but Potter was unusually skinny, his ribs and spine seemed to jut out of his skin and he had noticed he was unusually sensitive to the cold. It seemed as though Potter didn't get enough food. He allowed the thoughts to run through his mind. Huh, that was weird...

When he was full he decided to go to his first class, Potions. He walked it to the room and had a pleasant surprise waiting for him. The teacher turned around and though he was fifty years older, Asmodeus recognised him immediately. Old Sluggy caught his eye and beamed. It was unusual for Professor Slughorn to dote on a student who wasn't a part of Slytherin house but anywho.

He had gotten started on the potion they had been assigned and luckily he knew this one as he had brewed it many times before, Veraci Nullatenus- a mild truth-telling potion that Riddle had used many times before allowing someone to join the Knights of Walpurgis. Many times he would get someone who was lower in the ranks- but good at potions to brew it. and often times that duty had fallen onto him.

As the class drew to a close, he could see Hermoine getting more and more frustrated at the results of her potion. In all fair accounts, this was a tremendously difficult potion to brew- definitely a NEWT level potion.

"How are you doing that?" She hissed to him, her eyes full of a familiar emotion that had often possessed him as well. Even he knew that to muggles Jealousy is a- what's the word again? Ah, a sin. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he showed her the correct way to brew it. She eyed him up and down with incredulity. He assumed that Potter was not exactly the... smartest in the room.

When the class was almost over, he cleaned his bench and prepared his belongings for the next class which happened to be... defence.

Just his luck.

Asmodeus hated defence. In his time it was just an opportunity to brag about how much light magic prevails over dark magic. He much preferred the classes that Riddle would hold at the come and go room- the ones where he was taught about how magic is subjective and how dark magic can be used to do light things- such as healing. But a simple severing curse- a light spell when aimed at the right spot can end someone's life.

He waited outside of the classroom until he was joined by the rest of the class, lazily waiting for the blonde boy that he was just with in potions. Malfoy- he still didn't know his first name. He hadn't struggled with the potion as much as Hermione had... at least he didn't show it.

He laughed inside, Malfoy and he were exactly the same. Lost Pureblood boys who were raised to make money, have children and take care of the legacy. It was the expectation for every pureblood male. But it was especially true for those in the sacred 28 as the namesake bore heavy burden on their personalities.

When he had been caught with a boy in the previous year by a teacher, his father had not been pleased. When he had come home for Christmas, his father crucio'd him so hard he could barely walk for a week. He had called Asmodeus all sorts of names and cursed him into oblivion. It was a rather shitty Christmas in his books.

He shuddered back to reality when a baritone voice broke him from his stupor.

"Daydreaming again Potter? 10 points from Gryffindor, now get out of my way."

He glanced up to see a tall, surly looking man with greasy black hair that hung to his shoulders and a nose so large it would have put a Toucan to shame.

"Get. Inside."

Everyone rushed inside as to not get punished by the intimidating looking man. They took their seats and Asmodeus conveniently placed himself close to Malfoy. Ron looked at him weirdly but shrugged and decided to join him.

Looking at the Malfoy, his attention lingered on his pale skin, unblemished and clean, the soft looking platinum blonde hair that wasn't long but not short either, just hanging past his ears, he had a semi-insistent urge to stroke his hair to affirm his suspicions. He gazed at the seemingly plump, velvety pink lips that were being abused by a set of blinding straight teeth. He was attractive alright- from the way he looked at the Potter boy or- him now, he was sure that he wasn't straight. 

In his eyes, so pale a blue they almost seemed grey- colourless- there lay an animosity fiercer than any that he had seen except for his father and Tom when he was angry. But underneath that anger laid a vague sense of lust. It reminded him of the way a starving man stared at a feast or a thirsty man staring at a lake. 

A humourless laugh escaped his lips before he could stop himself and the Malfoy sneered, thinking he was laughing at something he did. 

"What is it Potter?" the blonde boy spat, venom present in every syllable, his eyes ablaze with unabashed fury. 

"Nothing"  Said Asmodeus. He averted his gaze and focused in on his work. The hook nosed teacher was called "Professor Snape" he had heard Hermione ask him a question and he just brushed it off, accusing her of "bragging" and being rude. 

Huh. so it seems house favouritism has never changed. 

When the lesson finished, Professor Snape asked him to stay behind. Inwardly, he sighed. It seemed as though this teacher had it in for him. I wonder what the Potter boy did that rubbed this teacher the wrong way. 

"The Headmaster has asked me to resume your weekly Occlumency lessons. Though I believe that it would be a fruitless effort due to your inherit... Inability to perform well." every word that the man said, his facial expression and tone became sourer and sourer until he hit the point of looking like he had just sucked on a lemon. 

Asmodeus smirked subtly, Tom had taught Occlumency to all of his followers as he had no intention of being caught by the teachers. Not that he would be... they all loved him. 

Except for Dumbledore- but to be fair, Dumbledore hated all of the Slytherins.. 

He nodded at the DADA teacher and left the classroom. He closed the door behind him and walked into the corridor. When he arrived at the corner of the next hallway, he was slammed into the wall by a certain someone... 

Someone with pale blonde hair and even paler eyes...

Someone in Slytherin robes.

Someone who was just inches away from his face.