Lifestyles of the Rich and Wandless

Chapter Five: Draco's New Snogging Partner: The Mirror

Boater. Check. Maroon tailcoat. Check. Orange knickerbockers. Draco cringed at the word. Check. Wand. Che- not check. Draco picked up the knobbly stick that had been issued to him and glared at it in a way that would have made a living thing die. Poor stick.

He glared at himself in the mirror. Oddly, he didn't keel over right then and there. He supposed it must have been his dashing good looks. Draco raised an eyebrow suggestively at himself in the mirror. It would have made a group of Grangers and Ravenclaws (the ultimate sticklers for rules) drool like rabid dogs. In fact, Draco nearly kissed his reflection. He made even orange look stylish.

Draco couldn't resist.

He gave his mirror-self a soft peck on the lips (well, where else?).

There was a snort from the doorway. Tonks came in, smirking. Draco was horrified. Stupid spying little... Quickly, he composed himself. "Was Fleur Delacour in the mirror?" Tonks asked, sneering.

"Better. I was," Draco said cheekily.

Tonks turned green. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need some fresh air," Draco said.

"You're an idiot! Every time you go outside, you get flattened! Haven't you learned by now, you numbskull?" Tonks said.

"What's this?" Draco said. "Do mine ears deceive me? Is my cousin Nymphadora relenting on her hateful passion? Has she finally discovered her half-incest love for moi? Oh, my non-pureblooded cousin, 'tis a shame, for I am already promised to one pureblooded Blaise Zabini or one Pansy Parkinson! And might I mention," he said with a wink, "that neither have... pink blobs coming out of their scalps?"

Tonks glared at him. "Shut it, you," she growled. "Fine. Go out there. Die for all I care. I wish you would."

"Ah, denial," Draco said loftily.

"GET OUT!" Tonks screamed, before shoving Draco, stick and all, out the front door. The door slammed behind him.

Draco rolled his eyes. "She just loves me too much. All females do. And some males," he added gleefully. He started down Magnolia Crescent. Suddenly, something crashed into his midriff. "What the hell?" Draco said as the boy named Evans got up. Then he saw it. A... a wand. Not even asking Evans why he had a wand, Draco grabbed it greedily. "A wand!" he gasped. He kissed it. "Oh, glorious wand! Wingardium Leviosa!" he said. To his delight, a pebble began rising slowly into the air.

Immediately, figures in Muggle clothes jumped out of the bushes. "Draco Malfoy, put that wand down immediately," Mad-Eye Moody growled, pointing his wand at Draco. He was wearing a Victorian era (though Draco didn't know it) suit, complete with a lime-green top hat. The hat hid Moody's magical eye well.

"No! It's my wand! Mine!" Draco said.

"Actually, it's Mr. Evans' wand," Draco's former professor, Lupin, said. He was wearing a shabby button-down shirt, complete with shabby trousers.

"What are you doing here?" Draco said.

"Simple, Draco. You're not supposed to have a wand, remember?" Weasley's father, who was wearing a Muggle golfing sweater and a pair of faded jeans, said. "Your sentence was to stay Muggle for the summer and one school year."

"So?"

"It means, Mr. Malfoy, that you should be inside, awaiting your first day at Smeltings tomorrow," said a voice Draco didn't want to hear. Stupid Dumbledore. Dumbledore arrived on the scene, sporting an old-fashioned blue tailcoat and yellow trousers. He had a watch on a chain in his belt, and a crimson bowler hat. He looked rather strange, even to Draco.

"Damn," Draco muttered under his breath.

***

Smeltings was ugly.

That was the only word to describe the building, Draco thought with distaste. It was gray. And brown in some places. And a horrible yellow in others. Not to mention that there was no plant life, not even a blade of grass, within the vicinity, and everything was covered in pavement.

And definitely not to mention the things that milled around. They looked absolutely disgusting in their maroon and orange uniforms. Only Draco, in his humble opinion, could pull off looking good in those things.

The train ride had been stupid. It had been terribly boring, as Draco had shut himself in the loo to hide from Big D and Polkiss. And it had been smelly. The Muggles were stupid. Even Goyle was smarter than some of them.

Draco lugged his trunk up to his dormitories, after consulting the strange Muggle map that had been given to him. According to Dumbledore the day before, the Headmaster of the school already knew about Draco, and therefore Draco could just start mixing in with the other students without seeing the man. Draco had no urge to speak to another mindless Muggle, so he had headed straight to the dormitories.

What a waste of time, bringing your own luggage to your dormitories, Draco thought. Why not have the house elves do it?

When he had slid his trunk under his ugly Muggle bed and gone down the ugly Muggle stairs, avoiding ugly Big D and his ugly sidekick, he walked into the ugly eating room (known as the mess hall; Draco wondered why), where ugly women were serving the ugliest food to the ugliest students in the ugliest queue. The ugly students were sitting down in ugly chairs near ugly tables. Even the conversation in the room was ugly.

Draco ignored the line. Surely Dumbledore had told the headmaster of this ugly school that he was a Malfoy and therefore commanded respect. He would be served, of course, at the table. There was no way he would wait in a queue like a common person. Especially not a common Muggle.

When no one came, Draco glared down at his ugly plate. Maybe Dumbledore had charmed it or something. He looked around at the other boys at the table, who were all eating in the ugliest way possible. Luckily, Big D and Polkiss weren't among them.

"Shepherd's pie," he snarled at his plate. A few of the other boys looked up, their mouths hanging open. It was an ugly sight.

Nothing happened. A pie didn't appear on the plate. And then that giant beach ball named Big D slammed his plate down next to Draco. "Well, hello," he said. "I was looking for you, Cedric."

"The name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," Draco said.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, James Bond," Big D said airily.

"I said my name was Malfoy, not Bond," Draco gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Dun, dun, dundun, dun, dun, dundun, dun, dun..." Big D sang. The other boys at the table began to guffaw. It was a very ugly sight. Draco winced as scraps of food hit the table. How... un-Malfoyish.

"So, Drugged-up Monkey," Polkiss said, sneering. "Why did you suddenly join us in this wonderful school?"

Draco, who had been checking his reflection with the back of his spoon, didn't answer. Big D flicked him hard, and Draco said in an annoyed voice, "Who's Drugged-up Monkey?"

"You," one of the boys at the table snarled.

"I don't do drugs. And I'm not a monkey, thank you very much."

"Thanking us? What for?" Big D said, whacking Draco suddenly on the head with his Smeltings stick.

Draco glared up at the Smeltings stick, then whipped out his own. "You want a duel, you'll get one," he said.

"A duel?" Big D said incredulously. "A duel?"

"Yeah, a duel," Draco said. "What's wrong, Po- what is your surname anyway? Pothead?"

"Dursley," Big D growled. "My cousin is Pothead."

"You're related to Potter?" Draco said. "Then you'd better get up, Dursley. Who's your second?"

"My what?" Big D said in confusion.

"Your second," Draco repeated. "You know, the bloke who will take over from you if you die."

"D-die?" Big D said.

"Yeah. Die," Draco said. "What's wrong, Dursley? Scared?"

Big D got up, his body wriggling like a blob of jelly. "N-no," he said. "I'll... I'll face you!"

Draco pointed his Smeltings stick at Big D. Then he whacked at the other boy's stick. Big D stared at him. "You want to have a sword fight?" he said.

Draco shrugged. He had been taught the art of sword fighting when he was younger.

"Forget that," Big D spat. He threw his stick down and raised his fists.

"Crap," Draco muttered. Big D pounced. Draco screamed. Polkiss let out an excited cackle and dragged Draco's arms behind him, allowing the whale named Dursley free space to punch Draco.

"Can't we just settle this over a game of poker?" Draco wailed.

Big D continued to punch him. The ladies over at the serving tables seemed to be afraid of him, and didn't come to stop him.

"How about I give you half a million... er... pounds?" Draco pleaded.

Another punch sailed into an area Draco prized above all others.

"Hey, watch it! There won't be any Malfoy heirs if you do that!" Draco wheezed, tears springing from his eyes. "Malfoy heirs! We're important!"

Big D ignored him.

"STOP!" Draco yelled. "That bloody hurts!"

"Shut up," Polkiss hissed from behind him.

"You look like a blob of jelly! No woman in their right mind would want to have children with you, because they'd probably be squashed in the conceiving process!" Draco said, abandoning the innocent crybaby approach and starting his sneering, Malfoy approach.

"Now, Draco Malfoy! That's disgusting!" said a voice from the doorway of the room. Draco turned slowly, dreading seeing who it was...