Chapter 19: Isn’t it supposed to be a surprise?
Chapter 19: Isn’t it supposed to be a surprise?
“Oh wait, is that the time?” He glanced at his watch, “I think we had best head to the hall, grab some tea before horde arrives?”
“Oh wait is that the time? Draco, I know you’re not that hot at lying and avoidance, but come on, at least drop the clichés”
‘Actually,’ Draco noted to himself, ‘I’m quite good at the lies, evasions and the like… I just seem not to be able to manage it when something ‘nice’ is going on. Bugger that little weakness.’
Outwardly, he shrugged, “it is teatime and I would rather like something to eat,”
“Well, that sounded genuine at least. Okay, you win Draco.”
Of course he sounded genuine, Dobby had let slip that he had been making his special chicken, that was something he would never get tired off. The meat cooked so that if just fell off the bones at the slightest of pressures, the dusting of spices, his own recipe for stuffing…
“And that is definitely genuine salivation. Geez Draco, if I knew you were that hungry I would have shown you how to get into the kitchens,”
“That’s a servant’s area,” Draco winced, okay, so perhaps he deserved that slap. Talk about not censoring your own mouth…
Perhaps he deserved that slap?!?
Geez, he was turning into a wishy washy Hufflepuff. Next thing he knew he would be giving a damn about others petty feelings.
“And that is the Draco we all know and love and love to hate,”
She was amused?!
“Now, I believe you said you were hungry?”
That’s it; he was going to have to kill her.
Either that or marry her.
“Lead on Mcduff,” he commented sarcastically, gesturing towards the Castle entrance.
“Such a Gentleman,”
Sarcasm, he was definitely going to have to kill her.
What was that he had just thought?
“Draco, that’s a wall. You can’t walk through walls.”
“I have a question,” Ron slowly commented, his eyes not leaving a figure who was swiftly filling a large plate from the buffet tables that ran the length of the room where the Slytherin table would normally, “this is a surprise party for Sarah right?”
Catching the puzzled nods of his friends out of the corner of his eye, he continued, “and we’re just waiting for the guest of honour to arrive so we can get the party properly started right?”
“Of course,” Hermione replied, her tone of voice saying all to clearly that she had no idea where this was going and was just humouring her friend.
Ron shrugged, and snapped the trap shut, “then who is that at the buffet table?”
“Bollocks,” Harry replied, his eyes spotting instantly whom Ron was talking about, his words earning an instinctive and completely unnoticed ‘Don’t Swear’ from Hermione.
“How did she get in?” Ron asked.
“Couldn’t have used the main entrance like they were supposed to, they would have been noticed. Draco would have had to lead her around to a side entrance…” Hermione grimaced, “Malfoy.”
“He knew we were all expecting her at the main door,” Ron sighed, “so he decided to bring his own little twist to the party. Now why am I not surprised?”
“He’s Malfoy,” Harry shrugged.
“Right,” Ron shook his head slowly, “that would be it,”
“It was a very Slytherin thing to do wasn’t it?” Hermione noted with a frown.
Behind them, a startled Draco glanced listened to their words with gratified surprise.
“Would you care to dance?”
“No,” Snape replied, gritting his teeth, “I would not care to dance, I would not care to play your party games, I would not care to ‘join in’, I would care to be in my quarters with a dozen bottles of red ink and some Gryffindor papers to mark. Alas, certain cretins, no doubt with Dumbledores knowledge, if not outright assistance have seen to keep me from these simple pleasures,”
“You cannot lock yourself away from life,” Abbott replied, her expression enticing, “at some point, you have to live, otherwise all you will do is die inside, day by day, little by little until all that is left is a bitter and twisted shell. You’re not their yet and… I could save you.”
Uttering an inarticulate growl of pure utter disbelief at the Hufflepuffs words and their unmistakable suggestion, Snape fled, his path taking him swiftly to the headmaster, stopping only to drop gigawatt range glares at any students he passed who were getting too familiar for his liking. That, given his mood, including just glancing at a member of the opposite sex, let alone necking or, heavens forbid, dancing like couples.
“Headmaster, I don’t know why you tolerate this… this debauchery!”
Dumbledore turned around to face Snape, a faint glimmer of surprise hiding in the corners of his eyes, barely visible under a look of such pure innocence that it would make Lucifer weep “Debauchery? I was not aware that Miss Abbott had succeeded in getting your attention quite that well.”
The response was a simple grinding of teeth of Snape held his arms ramrod straight at his sides, his eyes resting disconcertingly on the older wizard’s jugular, following the mesmerising pulsing as blood was pumped around Dumbledore’s body.
The headmaster took an involuntary step back, one hand moving closer to his wand, reminded disconcertingly, and not for the first time, of a vampire.
“I suggest you hurry in removing that ward from the doors,” Snape replied finally, his voice so taut it reminded the headmaster of an elastic band that was set to slingshot an object into orbit, “in case you have not noticed there are no facilities in this room and with the number of frivolous drinks you have been forcing into my hand all evening I’m afraid I have quite a pressing need. Unless you would like me to display some debauchery… right into the punch bowl!”
The innocent look fell from Dumbledore’s face, no doubt making at least a dozen angels weep with grief, replaced by a look that could best be described as disturbed.
Grinning at his victory, Snape swept swiftly but menacingly from the room as the headmaster made a simple gesture with his wand. Behind him, the headmaster made his own swift way right to the age-line restricted drinks section.
Unnoticed by either, a young figure darted out of the room also, following Snape as he fled the party.
“Where is he?”
“We can’t keep scrying, it won’t be too long before Dumbledore notices and investigates, if that happens, we’re scuppered.”
“We’ll give it another go. Damnation, would never have taken Snape of all people for a party animal, bloody hell, he’s never even left to go to the toilet all night.”
“Yea, well he’s left now. Looks like he’s heading towards the ground floor toilets,”
“Great, we’ll kill him there,”
“With his pants down? Not exactly sporting,”
“Who gives a flying shit about sporting when we’ve got Voldemort to think about and the potential for… annoyance,”
The second voice considered this for a moment, his thoughts going, just for a moment, to Malfoy Seniors final… well, you couldn’t call it moments. Final days on the other hand…
“Pants down; right,” he concluded.