To Like a Ferret

Chapter One

To Like a Ferret, You Must Understand Him

Draco Malfoy sat on his four-poster bed, skin flushed and a look of deep bewilderment still etched on his face. His Ancient Runes book lay forgotten on the messy floor, all intent of studying out of his mind. His body was tired from the exercise it just spent, trashing the whole room about. Draco had exhausted the better part of the past seventeen minutes throwing all things breakable in the room every which way.

He was beyond upset.

He didn't let himself think about anything.

At all.

He could not believe That Wanker's utter nerve...

Anything at all.

The Sixth Year Slytherin bedroom door burst open with such force Draco wondered hazily how the hippogriffs escaped from That Hairy Giant's grasp. As such, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson stood in place of the hippogriffs, with heaving breaths and wild looks about their eyes. One look at Draco told them they didn't need to confirm if what they just heard was true.

The Hogwarts grapevine became something of a force not to be reckoned with of late, for it fought right back. While normal rumors tended to have the inclination to be untrue eighty-seven point seven percent of the time, the same cannot be said for the Hogwarts mill. In this institution, gossip leaned towards fallacy, oh, ninety-six point four percent of the time. The students had to acknowledge the Ministry of Magic and the Daily Prophet for that. Nowadays, nobody in his right mind believed newspaper reports anymore. The Quibbler had always been a joke, the Daily Prophet's reputation tarnished beyond Reparo, and Witch Weekly usually focused on wizarding robes and wizards' teeth. Gilderoy Lockhart would have been more than happy to attest to that, had his memory been somewhat in working order.

So in dearth of accurate information from the wizarding government, the Hogwarts students had risen to the challenge of the occasion. The houses had been forced to unite on this particular circumstance. In any case, a school simply did not survive without gossip. Something that veered otherwise from the concept was unheard of. The students brainstormed for days on end with one particular goal: to find something they could trust; something that would bring about intelligence swiftly; something inexpensive and with at least a fifty percent chance of legitimacy. They all found the answer in the forms of cohorts Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown.

Parvati Patil's ears for gossip were like a famished dog's nose for, well, dog food. She sensed them with such velocity it was at times alarming. She also meant business. Whenever a tidbit came out of Parvati Patil's mouth, it always brought about, at the very least, a boulder-like grain of truth in it. Her being in Gryffindor also added notches to her credibility. Not everyone would as easily have believed a Hufflepouf's word.

In many aspects.

In any aspect.

That was the Slytherins' stand on this house-unity-for gossip thing anyway.

Her partner-in-crime, Lavender Brown, was just as reliable on the hearsay department. She would have had equal status with Parvati, had she not been a bit preoccupied the last month or so with other, err, snogging activities with her boyfriend.

Nonetheless, the two worked together for the whole school. They saw it as their duty, and really such an honor it was, to bring about their talent for the good of the student body. That their peers, their friends, and even the Slytherins, would give them such trust...

In actuality, they both thought this noble task would make Professor Trelawney proud, but the other students did not need to know that. They did their task magnificently anyway.

Through the Hogwarts grapevine was how Blaise and Pansy found out about what happened to their friend in the library. They had learned to rely on it for authenticity for the past year truth be told, but the information they just heard simply needed confirmation. Because there was no way in bleeding hell it could possibly be true.

At Draco's tense and totally furious stance on the bed, Blaise Zabini calmed himself enough to stutter lamely: "W-we just heard."

Blaise was distressed. In fact, even more so than the offended blonde.

Blaise was, after all, still in love with Draco.

The blonde didn't want to hurt him, he had been told. He was valued too much as a friend, he was consoled. He would have had his heart broken if it happened, he was warned.

Blaise didn't care if he got hurt. He already pissed at the wind the moment he asked Draco out anyway.

Draco Malfoy was gorgeousness personified.

His silky ash-blond hair contrasted sharply with those cheekbones that really should have a monument all on their own.

His begging-to-be-ravished lips were accompanied by his sharp tongue. He did that sexy drawl so well. It made everyone want to talk to him; whether he would lash out or hex was beside the point.

His Quidditch-toned body fit him perfectly.

His aristocratic bearing showed in his graceful movement.

He was charming when he chose to be.

He was extremely smart and sexy as hell.

In addition to all that, he was a Slytherin.

He was faultless.

Everybody wanted him.

Blaise was a different case.

He was mad about Draco.

Everyone knew that.

That Harry Potter asked him out was inexplicable.

Harry Potter, that Prat Who Lived to Annoy the Living Daylights Out of Slytherins; who was famous and brave and was morality incarnate; who was almost as stunning as Draco but will never reach the Slytherin's level simply because it was Draco; who could have had anybody he wanted but seemed bent on living up to his title.

Totally Inexplicable.

Draco looked at Blaise and gave a small nod. Blaise took the permission granted and sat timidly on the edge of Draco's bed. He stared awkwardly at his heart's desire. He looked up at Pansy helplessly, with no idea on how to go about with this weird disaster.

Blaise had always prided himself on knowing just the right way to comfort his friend. He had learned how to soothe the Slytherin's many tantrums through years of experience. Having Potter as a rival, and Crabbe and Goyle as minions for five or so years, gave the blonde an abundant share of headaches that was more than he cared to count.

Blaise found out Draco had loads of levels of distress.

The Scarhead-humiliated distress, which happened every single week since their First Year; the Trio-hexed distress, which was double the trouble in Blaise's practice; the Quidditch-related distress, which almost always deflated the whole of Slytherin house's team spirit and with the Gryffindolt seeker as the forever culprit; the Care of Magical Creatures distress; and many others which always seemed to find a connection to Harry Potter.

Then there were the How-they-made-it-to-their-tenth-birthday-I'll-never-fathom-how distress. These were usually of the mild variety and made for some sort of entertainment value to them somehow.

In all these torment, Blaise had been triumphant in uplifting the blonde's mood almost immediately. He used the many different methods a psychiatrist would have been proud of.

Yes, he knew that word.

Psychiatrist.

He was half-muggle after all. He had wanted to become a psychiatrist ever since he was a child. His uncle on the muggle side was one. He was exceedingly rich. Well, aside from that.

So immediately.

If immediately meant three days.

So now, the Famous Walking Scar made a baffling move.
What would Uncle Charlie do? Blaise's inner worry wailed.

Pansy Parkinson lounged on the doorway. She concealed a knowing smile at the exact moment she and Blaise spotted Draco. She would have cackled gleefully but she had house loyalties to attend to, and besides, she was Draco's friend. And Draco was clearly distraught.

She couldn't help it, she was a girl. Girls saw things blokes didn't. The school's rumour-mongers weren't girls for nothing.

So she saw things she almost sometimes wished she didn't.

She knew when Draco broke up with Theodore Nott. She felt how the younger Slytherin hid his tears behind homework and everything else around him. She witnessed his almost desperate attempt to be jovial in front of the Sixth Years to show nothing was wrong, that he was just fine.

She observed Padma Patil's hurt from a distance...well the library most of the time.

All right, all of the time.

Pansy sympathized with her. Padma was also clever. A broken heart should have been something easy to deal with. The both of them realized that Draco Malfoy was a different specimen of a heart-breaker a wee bit too late.

Being a sneaky Slytherin helped Pansy scrutinize things she wanted to have something to do with. Alas! It had its downside. Being a sneaky Slytherin also helped her see things she absolutely did not want to see. Things that happened on people she did not give a ferret's bottom about. Things that happened on other houses that did not bring about anything useful to her.

For instance, Pansy knew since the Yule Ball in their Fourth Year that Weasel and Granger would end up together one day. Their long-expected get together was becoming rather tiresome to wait for. Two years had already passed since the Yule Ball. Pansy inwardly rolled her eyes. Not that she cared about the Gryffindolts. Or anybody else save her and the Slytherins. It was just that she was a girl. And she wanted to be proved correct.

She felt it the moment Blaise started falling in love with Draco. In the way Blaise's eyes lingered just a bit longer. With the empathy and worry on Blaise's eyes whenever the blonde was displeased. On his concern that the handsome prat did not eat enough, or slept enough, or that he spent too much time playing Quidditch and Merlin he's going to get sick, voice edged with sincere anxiety.

You're obsessed, she had told him at least thirty-three times.

Am not, was the ever-ready response.

He continued with this insane prattle over the years. And Pansy belatedly realized Blaise's feelings. Pansy should have known sooner, she had already fallen for Draco once.

She just didn't want to see it.

Because it was Blaise.

Not Blaise, she thought with worry, once her traitorous thoughts started forming the correct conclusion.

Anyone but Blaise.

She saw this as her personal karma, the way she exuded her nastiness and malice to everyone she disliked.

And liked for that matter.

Because by Fifth Year, it was already too late.

And she was a good friend.

If good meant she noticeably acted less revolting towards those she was friends with.

So she told him.

You love him Blaise, she said, tone laced with just amusement after a particularly theatrical rendition of a prat mooning over another handsome prat.

Blaise had looked up from the couch and realization swooped down on him like that Weasley's family owl Errol, all messy and unexpected and simply wouldn't stop sliding down the table.

He had asked Draco out after a month of fretting.

Then promptly resumed his histrionics when he was turned down.

Pansy was secretly irritated with Blaise with all that withdrawal syndrome drama he pulled on their Fifth Year. It wasn't as if he had not expected the rejection. Blaise wasn't stupid. He knew Draco. He would never let friendship suffer.

That was why she surfaced back up immediately when she fell for him.

Then again, Blaise was a bloke. He wasn't as smart as a girl.

And he really was absolutely smitten it was quite adorable.

Pansy was there when Draco tiptoed around Blaise. She saw that Draco had wanted to say yes. He had liked Blaise too. But they were friends. And he knew himself. He would have hurt Blaise later on.

So she was also there for Draco when he would ask with that unaffected façade if Blaise was all right. She remembered how he almost literally choked on his own tongue when she told Draco about Blaise's feelings.

Draco became reasonably upset. He refused to speak to anyone for three days. It was, after all, highly unusual and unwelcome for your best friend to fall in love with you. And in Draco's case, two times that happened.

He really was that gorgeous.

Pansy saw the Ancient Runes book on the muddled floor. Which reminded her of Hermione Granger and those unutterable Gryffindolts.

Pansy was there when the pranks started.

Not that she minded. Sixth Year was a taxing year for them, and the breaks that mischief-making provided was very much welcome. It made for more bonding time for them too.

It was just that there was something else about Potter this year.

It seemed like he was into the whole 'Make Slytherins' Lives Humiliating and So Much More Than You Can Stomach And That Means You Malfoy Et Al' with a purpose.

So she thought back.

She recognized that Harry Potter had, in fact, started the whole tomfoolery this year.

Interesting.

She carefully watched with unperturbed fascination.

She saw the glow of the Trio's faces whenever the Slytherins hit back.

How Harry Potter's face simply beamed.

Like he very much wanted the Slytherins to hit back.

To give them attention.

And to give them attention meant to give Harry Potter attention.

Vee-ry interesting.

Draco seemed to be inwardly swimming at some sort of stupor. The quick and harsh way his chest moved indicated he was having difficulty breathing, and no, Cornish Pixies are not mass-producing inside his chest Crabbe, no matter how many times Millicent said that, it isn't possible. His disheveled-yet-still-sexy hair signified the blonde was only vaguely conscious of an audience. His clenched fists showed he was still livid at That Prat and that Blaise really should move out of Draco's fists' reach.

Draco was never this way with Blaise.

Sure Draco sulked, was temperamental, and snapped at everyone, but he was almost always like that. It was just intensified a bit. He treasured Blaise obviously.

It did not escape Pansy's notice that Draco most certainly did not trash his room when he was upset with the Blaise fiasco.

Bloody interesting indeed.

"Not to worry Draco, we'll think of something to pay him back on this one. Just you wait, this will be the best trick of all," Blaise said reassuringly.

He clearly did not believe what he just said.

That was because what could be a better prank than the one Harry Potter just pulled?

And they prided themselves on being Slytherins, Pansy almost snorted with shame.

They should have thought of that joke first! Pansy thought with the indignity.

Being a girl, and a nasty Slytherin girl at that, epiphanies came to Pansy almost regularly. And just then, the most brilliant of epiphanies knocked on her cranium. It was so exceedingly brilliant that it was accompanied with the traditional halo and glow about it.

Pansy Parkinson was almost blinded.

"Accept his offer," Pansy said with the sheer genius that accompanied her almost all the time really, if only she did not mask it with that constant snarl and fangs.

Draco's head snapped up at her voice.

At her sentence really.

Salazar Slytherin would have risen from his grave with that profound sentence, had he cared about the mumblings and pettiness of teenagers.

"Pansy?! What in Agrippa's soggy drawers are you talking about, you mad mad woman?!" Blaise bellowed.

She really shouldn't play with Blaise's feelings at this point as it was already past hysterical, but this was about Draco and Blaise was just added fun really.

As for the handsome blonde, Pansy was simply awed that Draco caught up to her trail of thoughts so quickly.
He really was quite superb.

In every way.

Draco's eyes lit up in that intense way only his eyes could make, and the appearance of his feral grin, for the umpteenth time, made Pansy relieved they were on the same side.

Draco winked at her, his smile still in place, and really, she was only human.

Her knees almost gave way.

She fanned herself with her hands and smiled back at Draco.

They looked at the still sputtering and spitting Blaise. Draco patted Blaise's shoulder and calmed the disturbed man immediately it was almost disgraceful and really, has he no pride?

"You explain that stroke of brilliance Pansy," Draco allowed.

Blaise looked at her expectantly, eyes dubious and quite comical in his scandalized face.

"Well?" Blaise snapped.

Pansy cleared her throat and readied herself for a close-to-mentally-subnormal-person outrage.

"Quite simple Blaise. And quite lovely. Potter asked him out. One of his best yet. So what do you think will happen if Draco accepts that offer? Let's see how the sodding Gryffindorks handle that," Pansy said, with the assumption that everyone was as smart as she was, a girl.

Draco was Draco.

And Blaise was almost effeminate with his dramatics, so they both understood what she just elucidated.

Crabbe and Goyle behind her, on the other hand...

"Potter, you are so going to regret you got up this morning," Draco almost pranced around gleefully. He looked up at Pansy. There was no other word for it. Draco beamed.

Pansy veiled that knowing smile that came with being a girl.

A nasty, Slytherin girl.