Pandora Malfoy and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Idiots

"Where's Neville?" Hermione asked at dinner.

I glanced up and down the table, taking everyone in. Harry was telling Ron something that had the red-haired boy gaping, the piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth clearly forgotten. Lavender and Parvati were giggling over one of the articles in what was unmistakably the Quibbler, a very odd magazine full of outlandish claims and conspiracy theories. Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood were engaged in a lively debate about something to do with the rules of Quidditch, the latter looking like he might burst from happiness and excitement. But Hermione was right — Neville wasn't there.

"I expect he's still in the hospital wing," I said, putting about ten Yorkshire puddings on my plate and covering them in gravy. "I've heard Madam Pomfrey can be a little — um — protective of her patients. She likes to make sure they're completely alright and everything before they leave."

Hermione nodded, then looked incredulously at my plate.

"Dora, are you ever going to eat a proper balanced meal at dinner? This is the third day in a row you've only had Yorkshire puddings, and even before that, you've always just piled your plate with lots of one or two foods..."

"I probably will at some point," I said, shrugging. "It's just I've always been told what to eat, you know? Mother and Father chose what we were having every meal, and I just had to go along with it. So now that I can choose for myself what I want to eat, a normal, balanced meal seems like a very boring choice."

I smiled, pushing away memories as I started on the pile of Yorkshire puddings. The truth was, Father had always tried to carefully control what I ate, allowing me to have only a small meal at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, carefully leaving out anything he deemed too unhealthy in an attempt to keep me 'thin and pretty', as he put it. Naturally, this meant I'd taken to keeping food — especially things like sweets and crisps — hidden in various places around the manor for when I wanted a snack, but it also meant that the idea of having a 'balanced meal' was something I hated with every fibre of my being. It just felt so controlling.

"Having a last meal, Potter?" I heard my brother say, from just down the table. "When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

I sighed quietly, watching as Draco, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, had his second confrontation with Harry of the day.

"You're a lot braver now you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," Harry said coolly.

In reality, there was nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on any time on my own," Draco said. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only — no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," Ron said, wheeling round. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Draco looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight alright? We'll meet you in the trophy room, that's always unlocked."

"What a bunch of idiots," I said to Hermione, as Draco started to walk back to the Slytherin table.

"They can't do that, they just can't!" Hermione replied, sounding even more scandalised than she had when I'd suggested Harry shouldn't be expelled for his flying stunt earlier in the day.

"I'm going to talk to Draco." I stood up, then added, "You can try and talk some sense into Harry and Ron, if you like, but I can't imagine you'll get very far."

Hermione nodded, and we both headed in different directions — I went after my brother, and Hermione started making her way down to Harry and Ron.

"Draco!" I said, as I got over to the Slytherin table. "What the hell was that?!"

Draco looked up a little guiltily, clearly taking note of the fact I hadn't used his nickname.

"What was what?" he asked, shifting slightly.

"I told you to apologise to Harry, not arrange to have an illegal duel with him hours after curfew!"

"And I thought I told you to get lost the last time you came over here, blood-traitor," Pansy said, from opposite Draco.

"And I though I told you to stop talking to my sister like that, Parkinson," Draco snapped, giving her a warning glare. He then turned back to me, raising an eyebrow. "Are you planning to stop me showing Potter why he shouldn't get tangled up with me?" he asked.

"Technically, you got tangled up with him," I reminded my brother. "And no, I'm not going to even bother trying to talk you out of it. I know for a fact it'd just make you want to do it even more, because you're an annoying git."

"I am not!" Draco said, in his mock-offended voice, putting his hand to his chest as though he'd been stabbed.

"Your heart's on the other side, Dray."

He moved his hand across to the other side of his chest and pouted. This almost earned a giggle from me, but I quickly forced it back down and frowned at him as I remembered why I'd gone to see him.

"Anyway," I said, but Pansy cut me off before I could continue.

"I've had enough of this," she practically spat, standing up. "I don't care if she's your sister, Draco — I will not allow a filthy blood-traitor to keep coming over to our table. So you—" she glared at me— "need to get lost. And don't come over here again, or there'll be consequences. Got it?"

I froze, feeling for a moment like I was back at the manor, with Father yelling at me for breaking one of his many rules. Then, I snapped back to reality.

"Fine." I tried to sound as though I didn't care, but there was a slight tremble in my voice that said otherwise. "Fine, I'll go."

With a glare at Pansy, and a slight frown at Draco, I went back over to Hermione. The look on her face told me that she'd had no luck with Harry and Ron either.

"What did he say?" she asked, as I sat down.

"He said he's not an annoying git, and then he forgot what side his heart's on." I made the face you make when your sibling's said or done something stupid. "Then Pansy told me to leave them alone and to stop going over to their table, so I didn't get to finish my conversation with Draco. I honestly don't think he's planning to meet Harry and Ron tonight, though — I reckon he'll just tell Filch, or maybe one of the professors, that the two of them are planning on sneaking out after curfew tonight," I said, with a quiet sigh. "I'm assuming your chat with Harry and Ron didn't go too well?"

"They told me to go away!" she said. "I can't believe them! Do they not care about all the points they'll lose us if they're caught?!"

"Apparently not." I rolled my eyes. "Idiots."

"Well, I think we should try and talk them out of it again tonight," Hermione said. "Maybe they'll listen to reason when they've had time to think about how stupid their plan is."

I nodded.

"Let's do it."

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Word count: 1256