Evil Masterminds, or Becoming Draco Malfoy

Chapter Six: Becoming, Part Two    

    The Vile Schemers were now putting Justin through rigorous tests, validating his Malfoyness. Or, as currently, his lack thereof.

    "All right," Madeline motioned for Ernie to stand up and walk toward Justin. "You see Harry Potter walking down the hall. What do you do?"

    FauxDraco glanced in "Potter's" direction, then walked right over, a huge smile on his face, and shook "Potter's" hand.

    "No, no, no!" Madeline rubbed her eyes, heaving a huge sigh.

    "I told you this would never work," Malfoy stated, wrapping his arm more tightly around Madeline's waist. No one (excepting Malfoy... probably...) was quite sure when it had gotten there. Madeline barely noticed it, given her absorbed state. Ernie and Hannah would glance disapprovingly at Madeline's abandoned behavior every now and then but did not question her. Justin, however, was less subtle.

    "Madeline," he began, suddenly cocking his head to the side, "why are you sitting in Malfoy's lap?"

    That brought her back down to earth with a thump. She jumped up as if her behind had been scalded (Malfoy had not acted quickly enough to restrain such action) and hurriedly took Ernie' vacated seat, blushing scarlet.

    "Hey!" Ernie exclaimed. "If you think I'm going to sit in Malfoy's lap then you're-"

    "The thought had never crossed my mind, actually," interrupted Madeline, looking less embarrased and more amused.

    Hannah looked closely at her boyfriend. "Ernie, is there something you need to tell me?"

    "No! No!" Ernie colored up just as rapidly as Madeline had. "For Merlin's sake, no! I am *not* like that!"

    "All right, all right, we're distracting FauxDraco," broke in Madeline, waving her hands in the air, getting their attention. "We'll worry about the seating arrangement in a minute, Ernie. For right now... Justin, you listening?"

    He nodded.

    "Good. Okay." She took a deep breath, then pointed at Ernie. "That is Harry Potter," her tone was the same hypnotic one as before. "You know. *The* Harry Potter. The Boy Who freakin' Lived. Famous before he was even potty-trained. And not for any particular talent or skill... not for anything that he had to work to achieve... famous for something that just *happened*. A coincidence, a fluke. For that, he is more popular than you ever will be."

    "Hey!" broke in the real Draco indignantly, but Madeline reached over and clamped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything else.

    "Not to mention, he's kicked your arse in every single Quidditch match. He probably has more skill in his little finger than you could ever hope to achieve."

    The real Malfoy bit her hand, but she kept her hand in place, fighting back the urge to retract it, or better yet, use it to smack the bastard.

    "And he's always looking at you like you're vile, like you're scum. Saint Potter, so completely superior, all that is good and virtuous. You, merely dirty Draco Malfoy, probably out sacrificing small, furry animals to the Dark Lord while raping young virgins and composing bawdy drinking songs to sing at the next Death Eater's meeting."

    The real Malfoy gave her a funny look, and she shrugged. It didn't really matter at that point, however, for FauxDraco was eyeing Ernie in utter repulsion.

    "Let's try this again. Ernie, come back over here, then walk toward FauxDraco again."

    The scene was re-played, and it looked as if it would be a repeat performance. Ernie walked forward, FauxDraco spotted him, then came toward him, reaching out his hand. However, this time, when Ernie's hand came out to be shook, FauxDraco abruptly brought back his hand and smoothed his hair, smirking at "Potter" all the while.

    The room was silent for a moment. Then,

    "Why didn't *I* ever think to do that?" the real Draco muttered to himself, gazing at FauxDraco in awe and wonder.

    "It's like he's channeling Jim Carrey," whispered Madeline, wide-eyed.

    "This might just work after all," Hannah murmured.

    "Good, good, great, excellent," said Madeline, clapping her hands together. "All right,now let's try someone else." She motioned for Hannah to stand up. Ernie demanded his own chair back, so Madeline switched to Hannah's vacated seat. She felt like she was playing Musical Chairs. She refused to look the real Draco in the eye, positively sure there was an amused smirk on his face.

    "Okay. You're walking down the corridor and you see Hermione Granger."

    FauxDraco pantomimed spotting "Hermione"; his eyes grew wide and fearful, and without warning, he ran in the opposite direction, arms waving frantically over his head, and tried to hide his entire body behind a bedstand table.

    "The hell was that?!?" the real Draco exclaimed.

    Ernie and Hannah stared at FauxDraco.

    Madeline was rolling on the floor laughing.

    FauxDraco came back up, grinning from ear to ear. "Sorry. Think I was channeling Malfoy just a bit too much there."

    "The fuck are you talking about?!? I do *not* act like that around Granger! Why the hell would I be afraid of that dirty mud-"

    "Hannah!" cried Madeline, clutching her stomach.

    Hannah hexed him.

    "Oohhh..." said Ernie, surveying her work. "That was viscious, sweetie."

    Malfoy didn't feel any different. "What? What did she do?"

    Madeline spotted Malfoy's new look and was sent into more laughing spasms.

    FauxDraco handed the real Draco a mirror. Pause.

    "When will it grow back?" begged Malfoy, sounding close to tears.

    "Oh, get over it, you big baby," Hannah ordered, rolling her eyes. "It's just a glamour charm. Your hair will reappear after an hour."

    The very bald Malfoy moaned.

    "Justin, what was all that about?" Ernie asked, still curious about the previous tableau.

    "Oh, that. You hadn't noticed how Malfoy avoids Hermione like the plague?" He smiled mischieviously. "He's been so worried about her finding out he had a crush on her in sixth year."

    Madeline suddenly stopped laughing.

    "I never had a crush on Granger," Draco denied, though with something less than vehemence. The loss of his hair seemed to have lowered his defenses.

    "How come I never noticed?" asked Madeline, her brow scrunching up in thought. "Ususally I can catch those things..."

    "Well, that was about the time that you were following Blaise Zabini around," FauxDraco explained.

    Madeline flushed and felt the eyes of those present shift to her. "I was *not* following Zabini around."

    Justin smirked. "Yeah, sure. What is it with you and Slytherins?" FauxDraco had to duck quickly to avoid the shoe that was hurled at his head.

    "What other Slytherin has she-" Ernie began, but Hannah, lost in thought interrupted,

    "It's really a good thing that Draco, the real Draco that is, didn't try anything on Hermione. Otherwise, she and Ron might not have ever gotten together. And they are just so *cute*!"

    "Oh, I doubt there was any chance that Hermione would have gone for Malfoy," said Madeline, getting back in her chair; and, feeling sore and vindictive, she added, "After all, bigoted creep really isn't her style."

    "Ooohhh..." The non-Madeline Hufflepuffs sounded like a practiced Jerry Springer audience. Malfoy looked as if he had been slapped.

    "Erm, I think that's enough for today," declared Ernie, eyeing Madeline curiously. "Justin should be able to get this down now. The next step is to map out what we are going to do to Malfoy and the time frame in which to do it. I think the week should start officially on Sunday. We can kind of settle Justin in to his new personality, convince everyone that nothing is different, then begin the destruction once classes start. Tomorrow, we'll finalize the plan. Sound good?"

    The Conspirators nodded in agreement.

    "Right. It's dinner time now, and the Polyjuice should be wearing off in a matter of minutes," continued Ernie, glancing at his watch. "It's your shift, Madeline. You sure you'll be okay?"

    Madeline was already feeling guilty. After all, it wasn't Malfoy who had provoked her humiliation. Well, not directly at least. "Yes, I'll be fine."

    "And Malfoy? He's pretty defenseless right now, and we really don't need-"

    "I'm not going to attack him!" she yelled. "Not physically at least," she added more quietly.

    "Madeline..."

    "I'm kidding! Go, go, and don't forget to bring us back something to eat." She shooed them away, but they did not leave for another five minutes, waiting for Justin to become Justin again, and for him to change back into his own clothes. On their way out, all three Hufflepuffs gave Madeline warning looks. She was thoroughly miffed.

    Madeline was usually pretty good at avoiding awkward moments and escaping embarrasing situations. However, Fate had chosen this moment for the culmination of all those missed opportunities.

    Granted, what she had said, as far as anyone could tell, had been true. And it was also true that Malfoy might have had it coming. That didn't make Madeline feel any less guilty and ashamed. She was a Hufflepuff, after all.

    Besides which, insulting your crush was not the ideal way to get said crush to notice you. Then again, Madeline thought, remembering what Justin had said, maybe that was the exact tactic Malfoy preferred. Perhaps he would understand...

    "Do you feel better now?"

    But most likely not.

    "Huh?" asked Madeline, startled out of her reverie, and without thinking, she looked Draco in the eye. Big mistake. His eyes were narrowed, accusatory, intense.

    "Do you feel better now?" repeated Draco, slowly, as if to a not-so-bright child. "You told me exactly what you think of me, insulted me, called me to task for my years of wrongs. Have you relieved your own mind?"

    "Oh, grow up!" exclaimed Madeline, going immediately on the defense. "You had it coming to you, and you know it. You're just sore that it was a Hufflepuff that dished it out."

    "I don't mean it when I say it."

    "What?" Madeline was thrown off by his sudden shift in tone.

    "'Mudblood', 'dirty blood'... that's just something I spouted off to sound superior. I don't know that I ever meant it or believed it. It was just something I heard around my house all the time." He grimaced.

    Madeline felt like she was eavesdropping on a private conversation. Surely Malfoy would not tell her these things, not voluntarily.

    "I never really thought about it. When I did at the beginning of sixth year, I realized it was all bullshit. That was when I started liking Granger. Hermione," he rolled the name off his tongue as if it were something exotic, something with a distinct flavor.

    Madeline scowled to herself. She definately did not want to hear this.

    Malfoy shook his head as if clearing his thoughts. "I'm over her. Really. Figured she was too anal for me. Besides which, you're right. She wouldn't ever look at me in that way." He shrugged. "At least she made me stop to consider what I was saying. I still say it sometimes, but it's only out of habit. I'm trying to quit." His eyes looked into hers, large and imploring. "Please don't think that I'm a bigot."

    Madeline nearly fell out of her chair again, but not from laughter this time. She gripped the chair hard, restraining herself from crawling back into Draco's lap, as part of her mind was screaming for her to do. She cleared her throat and took on a judicial manner.

    "So, you're not a bigot."

    "No."

    "But you're still selfish, arrogant, egocentric, and utterly, utterly spoiled?"

    "Yes."

    "Ah." She was suddenly back in his lap. "Then all is right with the world."

    He was very attractive... even bald.