Evil Masterminds, or Becoming Draco Malfoy

Chapter Ten: A Pocket Full of Posies

Day Three, 7:26 a.m., the Hufflepuff Boys' Dorm, The Eternal Debate

    "Red!"

    "No, yellow!"

    "I really think he should have the red! It's a more... Malfoy-ish color," argued Madeline.

    "As if anything he is doing right now is Malfoy-ish," countered Hannah.

    "I favor the purple ones, myself," contributed Ernie.

    "You would, MacMillan," demeaned Malfoy.

    "Do you want to be green again? It is my shift again this morning," threatened Hannah.

    "What's going on?" asked a yawning Justin, filling up his flask with potion.

    "We're trying to decide what color you should be handing out," responded Hannah.

    "Why not all of them?" queried Justin.

    Pause.

    "That just might work," said Madeline. "After all, they will all fit in the basket."

    "Lovely," Justin nodded his approval.

7:32 a.m., the Great Hall, Oh, What a Beautiful Morning

    FauxDraco's feet were planted, his arms were spread wide, his face was joyful and radiant. "Good morning, Hogwarts!"

    The student body was staring, open-mouthed and silent.

    A slight frown crossed FauxDraco's face. "I said, 'Good morning, Hogwarts!'"

    No reply.

    "Oh, come on, you guys, it isn't *that* hard. I said, 'Good morning, Hogwarts!'"

    "G'morning," grumbled a few students, slowly returning to their meals and their new gossip.

    "That's better!" FauxDraco beamed, then turned towards the Slytherin table and proceeded to skip over. Yes... skip.

    His fellow housemates didn't utter a word while he piled his plate high with food. "You know, they serve just *too* much meat at this school. And not enough soy products and tofu. Someone should really get on those house elves," commented FauxDraco, unfazed by the stares.

    "Um, Draco..." started Goyle, hesitantly.

    "Yes, Greg?"

    "Is that... a peace sign on your face?"

    "Hmm? Oh, this? Yes, it's a peace sign, what else would it be for Merlin's sake?" FauxDraco cha-ed his friend. Then he got a closer look at his friend. And his other friend.

    "Why are you two wearing *make-up*?"

11:37 a.m., Potions Dungeon 4, Not Very Pretty

    "And, let's see here... there's a posy for a Pansy... ha! How clever!" FauxDraco was walking around the classroom, passing out multi-colored flowers contained in a basket. "And Goyle can have a yellow dandelion, and Crabbe a purple flower... don't worry, sweetie, the mascara will come off if you wash hard enough... you got water-proof? Well, that wasn't very smart, it damages the eyelashes if you use it too much, you know... And Zabini, I think you are in dire need of a red flower. The red tones will bring out the gold flecks in your eyes." He grasped Zabini's face with his palm briefly, sending him a benign smile. "And speaking of red and gold..."

    "Mr. Malfoy," interrupted an apoplectic Snape. "If you would kindly sit down, we might be able to begin class."

    "But I haven't gotten to the Gryffindors yet! Here's a posy for Potter... hmm, not as clever, though alliteration is always nice... and Weasley can have a red flower... I don't think I really even need to explain that one... and here's a yellow flower for Hermione-"

    "SIT DOWN, Mr. Malfoy!"

    FauxDraco sniffed. "Bitter old man," he muttered, barely audible. But still audible.

    Students would swear for days that there was smoke coming out of Snape's ears.

    At the end of class, Snape called FauxDraco up to his desk. The students filed out of the room slowly, hoping to catch whatever Snape might have to say to the Very Obviously Insane Malfoy.

    FauxDraco pouted all the way up.

    "Are you feeling quite all right, Mr. Malfoy?" demanded Snape through clenched teeth.

    "Perfectly all right, Snappie Poo," replied FauxDraco cheerfully. "How are you feeling, sir? You look like you are in need of a hug."

    The students filing out stopped all pretenses of leaving and continued to witness the scene with undivided attention.

    "I warn you, sir, that I do *not* appreciate humiliation falling on my house, so I would advise that you behave."

    "Behave like what?" asked FauxDraco curiously. "Behave like a... monkey? Behave like a squirrel? Behave like a pigeon? I might could do that, actually, Zabini's been teaching me how to get the coo just right, it's more a 'prrooooo', really, with a roll of the tongue, and-"

    "I have done no such thing!" denied Zabini vehemently, glaring at the students that were giving him strange looks.

    "Mr. Malfoy, if you do not get yourself back together, I shall be forced to take serious action," Snape hissed, looking furious.

    FauxDraco cocked his head to the side, looking at Snape judiciously.

    “I don’t like your face,” he declared eventually with a calm countenance. “It’s not very pretty.” He reached down into his basket of dandelions and placed one of the cheery yellow flowers behind the Potions Master's ear. He smiled pleasantly and nodded his approval. "Much better."

2:26, the Hufflepuff Boys' Dorm, Appalling Madeline

    FauxDraco walked into his dorm room, grinning from ear to ear, scratching green paint off his fingers.

    "Mission successful?" questioned Ernie with a smirk.

    "Oh, yes."

    "No, no, no, no, NO!" exclaimed Madeline, shaking her head vigorously at whatever Hannah had just said.

    "What's wrong?" queried Justin.

    "Madeline is being uncooperative, as *always*," huffed Hannah. "She just informed me that she has no intention of attending the gala, and I began insisting that she should. I was even so generous as to offer to find her a suitable escort for the evening."

    "My life has reached a new low," Madeline muttered to herself.

    "Ungrateful wench," scolded Hannah.

    "I think it's a great idea," said Justin enthusiastically, transforming back into himself and laying on his stomach on his bed. "Madeline can use all the help she can get."

    Draco snorted his amusement.

    "Is my love life now an open forum?" raged Madeline, blushing furiously.

    "Yes," the other three Hufflepuffs replied. It was astounding how quickly they turned on their own.

    "Now, I was thinking someone along the lines of Terry Boot," declared Hannah, looking thoughtful. "He's pretty quiet, but he's in Ravenclaw, so he must be intelligent, right? Besides which, he's not all that bad looking."

    "Oh, sure, if you like the poncy, pretty boy type," interjected Malfoy with derision.

    "You're right," Hannah conceded to the amazement of all. "Madeline isn't into pretty boys."

    "Snarky bastards, however..." Justin muttered under his breath. Having left her shoes in her own dorm room, Madeline was forced to throw Ernie's hairbrush at Justin's head.

    Draco seemed pleased, for some odd reason.    

    "How about Seamus Finnegan? He's nice enough," offered Ernie.

    "Don't be ridiculous, MacMillan," responded Draco with a sneer, "she'd run circles around him."

    "And Madeline's not into nice guys, either," added Hannah.

    "She likes 'em thoroughly evil," muttered Justin, ducking Ernie's shoe that was thrown at him.

    "Madeline, you could at least *ask* me before you viciously lob my things at Justin," murmured Ernie, smiling.

    "May I?" asked Madeline in her sweetest voice.

    "Yes, you may."

    "What about Blaise Zabini? She used to fancy him," suggested Justin.

    "But he's a *Slytherin*," countered Hannah.

    Madeline waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, we've already figured out how to manage them." Then her eyes glassed over. "Maybe we should tie up Blaise, too..."

    Malfoy growled.

    "But he wouldn't ever ask me, anyway, he's got a girlfriend," continued Madeline, shaking her head to clear it.

    "If you tied him up, he wouldn't have much choice, would he?" prompted Justin, grinning.

    Madeline's eyes glassed over again.

    "Zabini is *not* your type!" snarled Draco loudly.

    "How's that?" asked Madeline innocently.

    "Yeah, Malfoy. Zabini is a snarky bastard, and I'm fairly sure he's evil," argued Justin, a smirk forming at Malfoy's obvious discomfort.

    "He's too- too-" Draco was clearly sacking his brain, trying to come up with something Zabini was, "too... short!"

    "Short?" questioned all and a sundry.

    "Yes, short. He can't be more than 5' 11"." He nodded emphatically as if this proved his point.

    "That's really not a problem," argued Madeline, "seeing as I'm barely 5'4"."

    "Oh, you wish," shot back Hannah. "If you're a hair over 5'3" and a half, I'll be nice to Malfoy."

    Madeline glared at her "friend." "Oh, stuff it in your bra." Madeline's eyes narrowed maliciously. "I'm sure you could find the room."

    "Cat fight!" exclaimed Malfoy, gleefully. He didn't seem to mind Madeline's wrath... well, at least when it was not directed at him.

    "Just because some of us have more mass in our *shirts* than in our *heads* does not mean that those people should take it out on the rest of us!" Hannah shot back, scowling, but eyes laughing.

    "Good one, honey!" applauded her boyfriend. Always there for support.

    "Whipped!" Madeline taunted Ernie.

    Ernie purred.

    Everyone covered their ears and screamed.

    "So, back to Madeline's date," prompted Hannah.

    "Or lack thereof," chuckled Justin, dodging the whizzing pillow.

    "She can't go, anyway," broke in Malfoy.

    "Why not?"

    "Someone has to be here to watch me, right?"

    "Oh, that's just what we need," said Hannah sarcastically. "Madeline alone with you in an empty dormitory for hours on end."

    "I'm not going to hurt him in any way!" exclaimed an indignant Madeline.

    "That's not what I'm worried about," replied Hannah, raising an eyebrow.

    "I'm not going to attempt anything like *that* either!"

    "You're not?" asked a disappointed Draco.

    "Why, you-!"

    "But she has to stay here, because Finch-Fletchley's going off, to make a bloody prat of me, and Abbott has her dress robes chosen already, told me all about them before she turned me green," Malfoy paused to grimace at the thought, "and MacMillan has to take her, so Madeline's the only one left."

    "Process of elimination. Don't I feel special," muttered Madeline.

    "No, she'll go to the gala, all right," said Justin, looking thoughtful. "I'll figure something out."

    Draco pouted. "You just don't want me to be happy."

    "Pretty much."

5:53, the Great Hall, New National Holiday

    "Holy fuck!"

    "Watch your mouth, Zabini," snapped Hannah, walking past the gawking Slytherin, and trying to keep a grin from forming on her lips.

    Granted, he was not the only one who had stopped abruptly to stare. He was merely the only one able to formulate words. He was surrounded on all sides by fellow Slytherins, standing in identical stances of shock, horror, and revulsion.

    A huge banner had been placed on the wall above the professors' table, where everyone entering the hall could see it. In flaming green-painted lettering, the banner proclaimed: "It's Hug a Slytherin Day!"

    The majority of the Great Hall was expressing varying degrees of hilarity. The Gryffindors, needless to say, were rolling on the floor. The Hufflepuffs were pointing and chuckling gleefully. The Ravenclaws were trying to hide their smirks and grins behind their hands.

    A group of third-year Hufflepuffs, undoubtedly encouraged by a malevolent Madeline, began making their way toward the Slytherins, dangerous intent in their eyes.

    "RETREAT!" cried the suddenly-in-charge Zabini, and all the Slytherins flew unceremoniously for the exit, Hufflepuffs, as well as other houses' boldest, hot at their heels.

    FauxDraco was wandering the Great Hall, hugging everyone he came across, watching his housemates taking their leave.

    "Now what was that all about?" he pondered to himself as he endured the groping of a fifth-year Ravenclaw.