Evil Masterminds, or Becoming Draco Malfoy

Chapter 14: ...And a Smile

Day Seven, Saturday, 8:49 a.m., the Hufflepuff Girls' Dorm, Girly Moment

"You'd better not be crying, Higgins."

"Don't be ridiculous, Abbott. What would I be crying over?"

"The loss of the father to your blonde-haired delinquent children."

Madeline sighed, glancing up from the book in her lap. "They would be brunette," she contradicted half-heartedly. "And I'm not *losing* him, per say, 'cause, you know, I never really had him. We're just returning his free will is all."

"We would have had to give it back sometime," Hannah pointed out.

"Where is that written? We could just keep him! Or rather, I could just keep him!"

"He might not have appreciated it."

"You don't know that. He might have thoroughly enjoyed being someone's sex slave," Madeline said dejectedly.

Hannah lifted an eyebrow and said wryly, "Next time I see him, I'll ask." Then, eyeing the book in Madeline's lap, she continued, "He's not a Falcon, you know."

Madeline frowned.

"Not a Falcon, not a Treve de Villars, he's not even a Carruthers. He's not the rude, arrogant, antagonistic character who then turns out to have the heart of a saint and uses his vileness to protect his overly-sensitive nature from your novels. Malfoy is rude, arrogant, and antagonistic. Period. He's not going to be saving any lost, helpless, one-legged kittens any time soon."

"I know."

"He's more likely to kick them, then point and laugh."

Madeline frowned more heavily. "I know."

Watching her forlorn friend's features, Hannah took pity on her. "At least he doesn't intend to be a Death Eater."

"True."

"And he would certainly keep a girl entertained with his lively, evil personality."

"Mm-hmm."

"And he's not entirely unattractive. Not like he has warts and moles in the worst places or hair on his back or anything-"

"Is this supposed to be helping?"

"Look, Madeline. Just... try not to be too heartbroken."

"Don't think I stand a chance, do you?"

"Sweetheart, I think you are more than worthy of him. It's just Malfoy's perceptiveness I'm doubting," Hannah reassured, taking a seat onto the bed next to Madeline. "In fact, I think you deserve much better than him."

"You're probably right," agreed Madeline.

"Of course I am.

Madeline nodded again. After a pause, she asked, "When did we get so girly?"

"I'm not quite sure," Hannah replied, looking thoughtful. "I think we need to surround ourselves with the boys again, for this is getting altogether too weird."

"Agreed."

The girls stood, Madeline walking over to her trunk, tossing the Veryan in. Then, while Hannah had her back to her and was moving towards the door, Madeline popped open the secret storage space in the lid of her trunk.

"And, even if Draco does decide to forget me, I'll certainly have something to remember *him* by," she began, feeling around in the space. She paused, then felt around a bit more frantically. "Oh, fuck!"

"Madeline, what have I told you about swearing?!?"

"No, Hannah, listen!" Madeline turned wide, horrified eyes to her friend. "It's gone!"

"What's gone?"

"Malfoy's diary! It's missing!"

9:25 a.m., the Great Hall, the Morning After

Blaise Zabini was not at breakfast. Apparently, he wasn't feeling well. FauxDraco was nearly gleeful. In a Malfoy-ish way, of course. His face was about to crack because of the size of his smirk.

"I didn't know you could dance," commented Goyle, after an appropriate amount of wary silence at the table had occurred.

FauxDraco shrugged nonchalantly. Then repressed an evil grin as an idea struck him. This wasn't exactly part of the plan, but it'd be hella fun, anyway: "Oh, that was nothing. You should see Lucius on the weekends."

The clatter of eating utensils, the wide eyes, the dropped jaws, the stunned quiet of flabbergasted Slytherins... he loved this job. Now that he had successfully instilled the image of Lucius Malfoy shaking and grinding, he could await the up-coming Quidditch match in relative ease. They would be leaving him alone for the rest of the morning, if not the rest of his (or Draco's, rather) life.

9:31 a.m., the Great Hall, Debate

"We have to tell them," Hannah muttered.

Madeline shook her head. "I don't think it's a good idea. Do you really want to piss off your boyfriend? I've only seen it happen a couple of times, but those were enough for me."

"He wouldn't be pissed off at *me*, just at *you*," the blonde Hufflepuff reminded.

"Throw me to the bloody dogs, why don't you?"

"Ernie's not a *dog*!"

"Besides all that, I really don't know if the boys could keep this from Malfoy. Ernie, maybe, but Justin... I think he's been growing rather fond of Malfoy."

"*You* think that *Justin's* growing fond of-"

"Could we trust Justin not to blab this in front of Malfoy? We lose our entire position, if that happens, and he could turn us all in. Merlin knows what would they would do. I'm fairly sure this is not entirely legal. I say the fewer who know about this, the better."

"Funny," murmured Hannah, looking a little distant. "Isn't that rather how this whole thing began? We weren't even supposed to be in on this, this was Ernie and Justin's scheme, their revenge. I don't see how it's fair that we *not* tell them."

Rubbing her eyes with her palms, Madeline sighed heavily. "I suppose you're right. Though," she continued, looking thoughtful. "Maybe we'll wait on telling Justin, at least until Malfoy is clear and has nothing more to do with us."

"Fine."

12:02 p.m., the Astronomy Tower, Feeling Decidedly Warm

Justin rather thought that he needed some air. Some oxygen, as Pansy seemed intent upon stealing all of his. Air hog. Not that he particularly minded, but asphyxiation was not how he wanted to go. And he wanted to at least shag the girl before he went. He gently drew back, taking deep, fortifying breaths, preparing for the next round.

Pansy had different ideas, though. "So we can become officially a couple once this whole farce is over, right?"

He nodded, lowering his face back towards hers.

"When will you be releasing Draco?"

Justin bit down a small groan. "Soon," he replied vaguely.

She frowned. "When 'soon'?"

"It's not been... officially... decided yet."

There was something he was not telling her. She could see that he was trying to suppress a smug grin. She narrowed her eyes. "What have you done?"

"Not much. The original plan was to release him tomorrow morning."

"And how has that changed?"

The grin won out. "It's a surprise."

Pansy shook her head, giggling slightly. She was glad to hear her unofficial boyfriend was capable of a little mischief. She wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his chest. Justin rested his chin on top of her head, one hand running through her short dark hair. He thought that he could quite get used to this.

She frowned suddenly. "Why was Madeline looking so upset today?"

"Oh, she's worried about Malfoy leaving. Thinks he won't ever speak to her again after it's over with."

The Slytherin snorted. "There may be few words exchanged, but I'm sure she'll be seeing him again."

"I think you are absolutely correct," Justin muttered slyly, grinning again. She, of course, couldn't see the grin and was too lost in her own thoughts to notice the smugness coming through.

"It wasn't just that, though," Pansy said softly. "She wasn't just sad, she looked like she was anxious about something. Like she feared something bad was about to happen, besides Draco leaving."

Having not seen Madeline yet, this was news to Justin. "Ah. She must've noticed Malfoy's diary was missing," he murmured to himself. Except, of course, Pansy was very, very close to him, and had been listening well enough that time to catch it.

"Draco's diary? That silly little thing?"

Justin jumped a little, breaking the embrace, and looked her carefully in the face. "You know about his diary? And what do you mean 'that silly little thing'?"

12:05 p.m., the Hufflepuff Common Room, The Angry Bull

"You did *what*?!?" demanded a red-faced, fists-clenched Ernie.

1:32 p.m., the Hufflepuff Boys' Dorm, Stretching

Justin staggered into the room, looking down behind him at the floor. "Piss off, won't you? Go trip someone else," he said, then turned around, shaking his head. "That cat really gives me the creeps," he muttered.

"Hayes' fleabag?" asked Malfoy.

"Yeah," Justin confirmed.

"Rumor is it's possessed."

"Did you start that rumor, Malfoy?" asked a mildly amused Hannah.

Draco sniffed. "I'm not especially fond of cats, thank you."

Hannah gave Madeline a knowing look. Madeline crossed her eyes in response.

"Did I miss something?" questioned a stern-faced, but somewhat confused Ernie, looking between the girls.

"Not at all, darling," replied Hannah sweetly, then quickly changed the subject. "Madeline's watching Malfoy tonight, right? During the gala?"

"No, she's going," Justin said, stretching one arm behind his head.

"But the gala is five hours long! We can't leave him alone for that amount of time!"

"You think we should take turns, switch out every hour or something?" asked Ernie.

"No. Malfoy will be fine." He stretched the other arm, twisting his torso at the same time.

"But-"

"Don't worry about it. I've got it all under control."

"Going for a run, Finch-Fletchley?" asked Draco derisively, watching the Hufflepuff pull his leg up behind him.

Justin smiled evilly.

Malfoy scowled. "Never mind, I don't want to know."

"But when you do find out, remember that this little stunt was all Madeline's idea," Justin told him, smile broadening.

"Shut it, Justin!" said Madeline hotly.

"Eh, MacMillan, why are you so sour-looking?" Draco demanded, giving Madeline a brief, curious look before turning his attention elsewhere.

Justin noticed his friend's expression, too, and asked concernedly, "What's wrong, Ernie?"

"Nothing," answered the other Hufflepuff, shifting lower in his seat and crossing his arms more firmly about him. He gave the girls a cold look, but only after his interrogators had turned their heads.

"What time is it?"

"It's 1:44. But Justin, we still need to figure out what we're-"

Justin nodded, and interrupted Hannah by saying, "Go time. We need to get down to the pitch."

The others agreed, and Hannah and Madeline joined Justin on his way to the door. Ernie stayed behind.

"Wait a second, what's going on?" demanded Malfoy, looking from Ernie to Madeline.

Justin shrugged, glancing back at the captive. "Well, Ernie didn't exactly want to see today's spectacle. And Madeline... did."

He received a slap on the arm, making him chuckle.

"I don't want to be stuck with bloody *MacMillan*! The prat will talk my fucking ear off-"

Quickly muttered words, a flash of light, Hannah's heavy sigh.

"PMT is not going as well as I had hoped it would."

Glancing down at himself, Draco smirked. "This is supposed to be punishment? You do realize you are insulting yourselves, right?"

Madeline had to agree; she was thoroughly amused, all the same. Malfoy's robes and tie had been charmed from Slytherin colors to Hufflepuff.

"Oh, shut it," glowered Hannah. "And so that you know, yellow does absolutely nothing for you."

2:00, the Quidditch Pitch, Getting an Eyeful

"Welcome, one and all! I am your commentator, Colin Creevey, here to guide you through the best wizarding sport of all time, Quidditch! Today's match: Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw!"

The stands cheered and booed appropriately, watching the players march out onto the pitch. Colin had taken over the job as commentator once Lee Jordan graduated, and was generally quite good, his quick mouth easily keeping up with the players. He had also taken up Lee's specialty of adding in his own comments during the game; McGonagall had to keep a close eye on him.

"Normally, during this time while the players line up and prepare to begin, the commentator gives a little pre-game speech. Unfortunately, I'm shit at speeches, so-"

"Mr. CREEVEY!!!"

"Sorry, professor..."

The players were in formation. Madame Hooch was between the two teams, declaring that she wanted a clean match, and she wished them both luck. She was about to release the quaffle when a slight disturbance caught her, and the rest of the stadium's, attention.

"Wait, what's that? Is that... Is that Malfoy? Holy fu- I mean, Merlin, it is Draco Malfoy! Stark naked! He's streaking!!!"

The stands were on their feet, vying for a better view, hooting and hollering, applauding and screaming in laughter.

"Oh, no, he's not *completely* naked! If I'm not very much mistaken, he's running across the field wearing nothing more than a Gryffindor scarf and a smile!!! A bit chilly, ain't it, Malfoy? Hope everyone thought to bring your cameras!" Which was the exact moment when Colin put down the wizard microphone and drew his own camera up.