The Last Supper

"What do you want?" Bitter. Accusing.

"We never got round to chains, did we?"

"Shut up, Malfoy."

*pause*

"Temper, temper. It didn't have to be like this, you know. Oh wait. It did."

*silence*

"Why are you here?"

*pause*

"To gloat to my little black heart's content. It's not often I get to see my fantasies played out. And then there's the dull business of checking on our most valuable prisoner."

"You always were a bastard, Malfoy."

"Love you too, Harry." Sarcastic, amused

*pause*

"Don't call me that." Quiet, steady.

*pause*

Slow, calculated. "You didn't seem to mind before."

"That's before I knew you were a carbon copy of your father." Evenly.

Amused. "Touché, Potter."

*pause*

"It's not a fencing match, Malfoy."

"No, that would require some measure of verbose skill on your part. And you've always let emotion blind you to reality. After all, those chains on your wrists came from somewhere, didn't they?"

*silence*

"Sulking?"

*pause*

"Why did you do it?"

Surprised. "Why wouldn't I?"

*pause*

Quiet. "Didn't think you were like that."

Condescending. "You always were a poor judge of character."

"Well, when an emotionless bastard sets out to manipulate me thoroughly when I'm slightly distracted by Voldemort killing my friends, then my insight becomes poor, I'll admit." Sarcastic.

*pause*

"I'm surprised how easy it was, actually."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

A laugh.

*pause*

"Comfortable here, are you?"

"Oh yes, the guards are fawning over me. The food's wonderful, satin sheets, a girl in my bed every night, wouldn't know any different from my previous existence really." *beat* "The chains aren't necessary."

"You'd throttle me if you weren't chained." Matter-of-fact.

A laugh.

"Probably would."

"Much as idle chit-chat is entertaining beyond belief, despite popular opinion I'm not wasting my time down here for the pleasure of your company."

*beat*

Disinterestedly. "What do you want, then?"

*beat*

"You aren't serious."

A laugh.

"What a dirty little mind you have, Potter. Believe me, fucking you was as bland and banal an exercise as ever existed. I used to do my Arithmancy homework in my head, you know."

"Fuck off, Malfoy."

*pause*

Silkily. "Got to you, did that?"

*silence*

*dripping of a tap. It is so quiet each individual water droplet can be heard ringing against the metal of the bucket*

"It's cold down here." Interestedly.

"If you want to give me another blanket, I won't tell the guard." Cynical.

*pause*

Businesslike. "I expect you're dying to hear the news. You've been down here a while, haven't you?"

*pause*

"A while."

"So you don't know the news." Teasing, enticing.

*silence*

Wryly. "I'm sure you're going to tell me."

*pause*

"She was pretty, you know."

*pause*

"Who?"

*pause* As if waiting for him to beg.

"Who, Malfoy?"

*beat*

Mockingly. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

*pause*

"She screamed. I suppose seeing them die would do that." Thoughtful.

*beat*

"Who are you talking about, Malfoy?" Hollow.

"They'd given up on you, you know. Even Dumbledore. The old fool was past it anyway."

"Malfoy, who is it?"

*beat*

"It's not just her." Softly.

*pause*

"Do you like being like this? Killing people? You used to care about them."

*beat*

"You're wrong, Potter. I never cared. You did. You cared desperately. You cared for the Mudblood, and the blood traitors. You wanted to save the world. And where are you now? Chained in a dungeon. Awaiting death."

*pause*

"They're going to kill you tomorrow."

*pause*

Barely audibly. "I know."

Conversationally. "It's a big celebration, you know. After all, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Saviour, the one who was going to free the world from evil Lord Voldemort... Given the Dementor's Kiss in the Ministry of Magic. Symbolic. I don't tend to go in for symbolism much, it all seems a bit razzle-dazzle, show business to me, but give the public what they want..."

*pause*

"Go away Malfoy." Tiredly.

"She was dreadfully upset at the thought of it, you know. She was pretty in an odd way. Her brothers weren't. I've never understood the appeal of red hair and freckles. You might have been dull as ditchwater in bed, but at least you weren't ugly. Pompous expression as if you were always to save the world."

*beat*

"You don't have it now."

*pause*

"And she saw them die. We saved her 'til last; Crabbe generally has better taste but she was rather insulting in sixth year when he asked her out. Well, what was he to do? She had slept with Corner, she'd do anyone."

*pause*

"So she screamed, and kicked and tried to escape. It was rather fun, actually. Nothing like the bleak shock when they lost their foolish, senile leader. In front of all those students. A nice touch. Pansy always did have a flair." Admiring.

*pause*

Quietly. "And where is she now, Malfoy?"

*beat*

Musing. "And a palpable hit. Your second, Potter. But I haven't been counting mine."

A laugh, bitter, tired and wrenched out.

The clank of metal rasping against metal.

"Easy. I don't want you any closer to me than needs be."

"You're in my cell, Malfoy."

*pause*

"You seemed to like it, you know."

*beat*

"I'm an accomplished actor, Potter. And you were desperate."

*beat*

Softly. "You loved me."

*beat*

"Cling to that if you wish, Potter. Perhaps it will keep the Dementor at bay until he is close enough to exchange intimacies. That way it'll be more of a shock. You always did like kissing."

*beat*

"It's called 'foreplay', Malfoy."

"I was your first."

*pause*

"So was I."

*pause*

"I can assure you Potter, I'd slept with my fair share of men before you. More than my fair share actually. Blaise Zabini has the most delectable bottom."

*pause*

Softly. "I wasn't talking about that."

*pause*

The heavy tread of boots on stone, the splash as they step through a puddle of coagulated damp. The slow rasping traverse of the bolt in the lock. A grunt as it is slammed across.

Idly. "Well, my escort is here. Big. Burly. Masculine. Unfortunately, he's dreadfully ugly as well, but we can't have everything. I'll see you later."

*pause*

"Later?"

*beat*

"Oh yes, didn't you know? This is all part of the service." Sweetly. "Making your last night on earth as impressionable as possible. Sleep well, Potter. I'll be back in an hour."

*silence*