Evil Masterminds, or Becoming Draco Malfoy

Chapter Seven: Talking Sense

    Hannah's hands were balled into fists on her hips, her head was tilted to the side, her manner was severe. "Madeline!"

    Madeline jumped out of Draco's lap, looking thoroughly abashed. "The mooses made me do it!"

    "I thought the plural of 'moose' was 'moose'," said Justin, looking thoughtful and handing Madeline a plate of spaghetti.

    "If the same rule applies as in the words 'fish' and 'fishes'," contributed Ernie, the bookish Hufflepuff, looking equally contemplative and handing Malfoy a plate, "then 'mooses' would mean multiple breeds or types of moose. If 'mooses' is indeed a word, and I have my doubts."

    Justin was nonplussed. "*Are* there multiple breeds of moose? I had always pictured the stereotypical moose and never even dreamed there might be a whole realm of unrepresented and unappreciated mooses out there."

    "See, now she's got you using that form," pointed out Ernie ruefully.

    "Can we *please* talk sense," begged Hannah, shaking her head.

    "I've yet to see it," muttered Malfoy, whereupon his half-eaten dinner was snatched from him. "Hey!"

    "You will behave or you will not get to finish eating," Hannah admonished and set the plate on a desk.

    "I pity your children," murmured Madeline, then quickly hid her own plate behind her back lest it too be stolen.

    "Yeah, she can be a real terror when she wants to be," said Ernie, flashing a grin; two seconds later he very obviously regretted his words and ducked his head to avoid the death glare sent his way.

    "Didn't know you were into the Mistress of Pain bit, MacMillan," commented Draco, looking slightly impressed despite himself.

    Madeline's hands were over her ears and she was humming loudly to herself. Justin bounced his gaze between Malfoy and Ernie, not quite comprehending, but seeming to get the gist. Ernie, to the shock (and disgust) of those assembled, glanced up and waggled his eyebrows.

    "Ernie Fabian MacMillan!" Hannah's voice was outraged, her cheeks burning a brilliant red.

    Ernie's grin belied his meek and apologetic pose.

    "Well, what do you know. He's straight after all," Malfoy declared, suppressing a pressing need to smirk.

    "Fabian?" asked a bemused Madeline, her hands still over her ears.

    "The plan, people. Could we please focus?" interrupted Justin, taking charge.

    "Yes, let's," replied Hannah, staring down her boyfriend. "And first I think we should talk about the gala."

    "The who?" asked Madeline.

    "The Valentine's Day Gala. Oh, that's right, you weren't at dinner. Dumbledore announced the dance this next Saturday night, after the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw quidditch match. Of course, the prefects have known about it for ages..." Hannah allowed herself a small amount of preening.

    "I don't remember hearing about it," murmured Draco, brows knit in confusion.

    "That would be because you were snoring loudly throughout the last prefect's meeting," Hannah informed him severly.

    "Malfoy snores?" asked Madeline, amused.

    "Oh, yes. Why do you think we had such a hard time sleeping last night?" asked Ernie, shaking his head.

    "I do not snore," denied Malfoy vehemently. "I merely breath loudly."

    "Nah-uh. You *snore*," contradicted Justin.

    "I do not-"

    "The gala!" Hannah intervened before the arguement got out of hand. Not that it could really get too out of hand with Malfoy wandless and magicked to a recliner.

    "That crusty old bastard!" complained Madeline. "I swear, Dumbledore takes pleasure from the suffering and humiliation of his students." She was not fond of galas. Her fellow students ignored her misery, however.

    "What's to discuss?" asked Justin.

    "The many, many ways in which we can abuse Malfoy at the gala? What color dress robes would look perfectly horrendous with his coloring? What spastic dance moves would draw the most attention? His choice of dance partners over the course of the evening? The possibilities are endless!" Madeline responded a little enthusiastically.

    Her peers looked at her askance. She shrugged. "Just a thought."

    "So then we're going to deprive him of a party?" Hannah sounded like she was having sympathetic feelings for the hostage. Her peers looked at *her* askance. She frowned. "Just a thought."

    "It's not like he's got a hot date, anyway," Madeline snorted. Then ignored the raised eyebrows of those around her.

    "What was that about Zabini earlier?" asked Draco suddenly as if just now remembering, eyes narrowing.

    "The plan! The plan!" exclaimed Madeline, face pink.

    "Yes, so, well," Justin stepped in, ever the savior, "what are we going to do to him and when?"

    "I think we should take the process slowly, gradually, so as to be extra cautious," said Ernie, stroking his chin, in full Evil Mastermind mode.

    "Then my ideas should come last," said Madeline. "They're probably the most extreme." The others agreed immediately. A little too immediately for Madeline. She sniffed indignantly, but made no verbal comment.

    "I have some ideas too," said Hannah, in the process of handing Malfoy back his plate, "but they can probably come early in the week."

    "I should be nearer the middle," stated Justin, nodding in thought.

    Malfoy was beginning to look distinctly queasy.

    "Mine would be better at the beginning of the week as well," decided Ernie, then asked, "Hannah what are your ideas?"

    Hannah glanced over at the pale Malfoy, grinned mischievously, then beckoned the Hufflepuffs to huddle around her. Draco shifted in his seat as much as the spell would let him, but he still did not hear Hannah's whispers. Whatever she had said made the other Hufflepuffs laugh loudly, however.

    "You know what I think we should do," said Ernie, then whispered the rest of his statement to the group. More laughter, more queasiness.

    'What could I have ever done to deserve this?!?' Draco thought frantically, despairingly, then ignored all the memories of things said and done in the past that answered the question.

    It was now Madeline's turn. She didn't lower her voice as much as the others had, but Malfoy could still only make out a few words. And choice words they were: "... a la duckie... red and gold... smile." She recieved the most laughter, and when they broke apart her smile was supremely evil.

    "You're maniacs- all of you!" said Draco, his eyes flashing in fear and anger. "All bloody fucking maniacs!"

    Hannah didn't need to be prompted this time. And she seemed to be getting more and more cruel with every shot. She smiled ferally while examining her masterpiece.

    "I like to think of this as Potty Mouth Therapy. I'm sure it will do him a world of good by the time this whole thing is over," she said, still smiling.

    Ernie, Justin, and Madeline simply nodded mutely, staring at Malfoy.

    "Give me a mirror," demanded Malfoy, staring back at them, terror evident in his eyes.

    "It would be kinder not to," Justin informed him sympathetically. Madeline snorted.

    Red hair and freckles was an okay look on Ron Weasley. On Draco Malfoy, however...

    The Hufflepuffs didn't discuss The Plan anymore that evening. Justin was beginning to look a bit nervous and Malfoy would start cursing under his breath anytime there was a mention made of it. Instead, they played a game. "I Spy".

    "I spy with my little eye," began Hannah, sitting cross-legged on the floor, glancing around the room, "something... pale."

    "I know!" said Justin immediately, sitting next to her on the floor. "It's Malfoy!"

    "Yes!" beamed Hannah.

    "Okay, okay, my turn," said Ernie. "I spy with my little eye something... evil."

    "Oh, let me guess," responded Madeline. "Is it... Malfoy?"

    "Correct!"

    Malfoy sat in his recliner, watching them through narrowed eyes.

    "All right, here we go," said Justin. "I spy with my little eye something... emotionally stunted."

    "It's Malfoy!" the other three Hufflepuffs chorused.

    "Ooh, let me go," Madeline piped up. "I spy with my little eye something... green."

    Her housemates looked at her strangely.

    "Malfoy's not green," Justin stated.

    "Yet," added Hannah, thoughtfully. Perhaps considering a new and creative way to punish Malfoy for his language.

    "It's not Malfoy," Madeline informed them.

    "Oh! Is it Malfoy's recliner?" asked Ernie.

    "Nope."

    "His robes?" asked Hannah.

    "Na-uh."

    "His school bag?" tried Justin.

    "It's not that, either."

    "Then what is it?" asked Malfoy grudgingly, obviously trying to hide his own curiosity.

    "You guys give up?" asked Madeline, looking at the Hufflepuffs.

    They nodded in response.

    "It's..." she paused dramatically while she pulled something out of her robes, "Malfoy's diary."

    In her hand was the green leather-bound book that she had found in his bag earlier.

    "How could you spy his diary if it was inside your robes?" asked Justin curiously.

    "It's not a diary," interposed Malfoy, practically glowing pink, "it's a *journal*!"

    Madeline rolled her eyes in response to Malfoy, but replying to Justin, said, "I couldn't really see it, I was just looking for a fun segue to bring it up."

    "Oh," the Hufflepuffs nodded in understanding.

    "So that was his diary you found," said Hannah, grinning excitedly.

    "It's not a diary, it's a journal!" said Malfoy vehemently.

    No one cared.

    "Have you read it yet?" asked Ernie, also grinning.

    "Of course not!" said Madeline, looking at him indignantly. "I am reserving this as blackmail to make sure Malfoy doesn't rat us out when we're done, but there's no reason I should look through it before that situation arrives. I mean, Merlin only knows what creepy and frightening things Malfoy writes in his diary."

    "Journal!!!"

    Madeline shrugged. "Besides which, from the glance I got yesterday, it looked mostly like poetry."

    "Draco Malfoy writes poetry?!?" asked Justin increduously.

    "Mostly bawdy limerics, I'm guessing," said Hannah severly.

    "Or maybe they're song lyrics," added Madeline.

    "Bawdy song lyrics."

    "It certainly is an attractive diary," said Ernie, glancing over the antique leather.

    "It's a fucking journal!"

    Hannah raised her wand, but Madeline made her lower it. "We're provoking him. I say we give him a little room. I'm sure he's thoroughly humiliated by now, anyway."

    "He would be even more so if you read the diary," Ernie told Madeline.

    "Journal," muttered Malfoy, still eyeing Hannah and her wand.

    Madeline was looking very tempted. "No, no, I can't. It's just wrong. If Malfoy ever read *my* diary I know I would fall over dead out of sheer-"

    "You keep a diary?" asked Justin, looking intrigued.

    "I never knew that," said Hannah.

    The Hufflepuffs were looking at her interestedly, like vultures waiting for their prey to die.

    "Oh, no, no, no, no. You guys are *never* going to see that piece of work, so quit trying to think where I might have hid it."

    "If you twits do find it, though," said Malfoy, looking just as entertained as the Hufflepuffs, "I call dibs on the first read."

    "I haven't read yours yet!" cried Madeline, a pink tinge appearing on her own cheeks.

    "So? I'm a Slytherin," Draco stated, looking as if that explained everything.

    To the Hufflepuffs, of course, it did.