Someone To Know Me Too Well

Thanks to: Morgan, my beta extraordinaire and muse; Julien, my sorta beta and fic pimp; Frances and Alex, whose stories turned me on to HP fanfics; Cassie, for showing me that a non-horrible Draco Malfoy was possible, and for inspiring me; and Aja, who started this whole thing.

 

Looking back, Lisa Turpin would have to say that the trouble all began with Draco Malfoy. The twitchy little ferret (who had gotten decidedly less ferret-like as he got older) seemed to enjoy causing trouble in Potions class. Getting classmates in trouble was his specialty, and he was good at it. Her classmate’s elbow interrupted her reverie. Samantha Fawcett, her best friend at Hogwarts, was laughing and pointing across the room.

"Look at Malfoy!" Draco Malfoy was against the wall of the classroom, cornered by Pansy Parkinson, who was obviously feeling romantic. Draco obviously wasn’t. It was common knowledge that the two were dating—Sam swore it was more than that and Aja knew better than to ask where her information came from—but Draco didn’t look happy at all. He glanced around the room. His eyes met Lisa’s, and he said something sharply to Pansy. Pansy looked hurt and backed off. Draco strode to his table, straightening his robes.

"Aww. Lovers’ spat," said Sam.

Sam and Lisa usually paired up in Potions, a dicey proposition at best. Both were in Ravenclaw, but shared Potions class with the Gryffindors and Slytherins. Lisa and Sam were taking Ethics of Magic, rare for fifth years, and the class time conflicted with their House’s class. Sam had been dating Fred Weasley—who, with his brother George was notorious for the pranks he pulled—since just after the Yule Ball in their fourth year, and Fred was definitely rubbing off on her. The two had met in the infirmary after an ill-fated attempt to enter the Triwizard Tournament by using an aging potion. The results had not been pretty.

Which isn’t to say that Lisa wasn’t capable of getting into trouble on her own.

The day the troubles began started out like any other in the north of England. That is to say, it was raining. Lightning forked across the sky. It was a day in which Jekyll became Hyde, when Frankenstein created his monster, Britney Spears was signed to a record contract, J. K. Rowling started writing slash, and Filch drop-kicked Mrs. Norris. Down in the dungeons, where Potions classes were held, it was dank and dreary.

It was a dark and stormy…day.

Professor Snape, the Potions Master at Hogwarts, was a tall man with greasy hair, a hooked nose, and was never late to class.

Until that ill-omened day. The door to the classroom flew open. Snape strode to the front of the class.

Sam, in the process of flicking a pufferfish eyeball at Draco (they exploded upon impact), jumped as a particularly loud roll of thunder echoed through the classroom. The eyeball flew and hit Harry Potter in the head. He raised an eyebrow at her, wiping slime from his forehead and she held her hands up to say, sorry, didn’t mean to hit you with a slimy object ofuncertain provenance. She pointed to Draco and Harry winked. Sam grinned at him.

Snape spoke and the class fell silent. "Today we will be working on a Morpheus potion. The steps are very complex and I will tolerate no horseplay."

As if Snape ever did.

"If you administer this potion to someone, it affects their dreams. You, the maker, have complete control over what the person dreams. It is a very dangerous potion. It has been used to drive men mad. This is one reason why we wait to teach it to you in your fifth year."

"I heard about this from Fred! He tried to re-create it and put it in Percy’s pumpkin juice one night but it didn’t work," Sam said in Lisa’s ear.

"Honestly, I don’t know how you tell Fred and George apart," Lisa replied.

"Easy. Fred has a birthmark—a very distinctive one—on his stomach. Shaped like Florida," Sam explained.

"Florida?"

"Yes. And I won’t tell you exactly where it is but I can tell you that it points right to Cuba."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Any other differences?"

"Well, they both kiss very differently."

"How do you know that?"

"Come on, Lisa, don’t tell me you’ve never played Truth or Dare? Dating an identical twin requires certain… precautions."

"I, er, I don’t really want you to continue with this topic right now, if you don’t mind—"

She was cut off by Snape.

"I have laid out the necessary ingredients for the potion. You may come get them now."

Sam stood up. "I’ll go get them. But if anything bites me…" She walked to the front of the room, muttering to herself. Lisa, looking around the room, caught Draco’s eye. She jumped as she thought she saw Draco—the twitchy little ferret—wink at her. Draco? Wink at her?

Ferrets don’t wink, she thought. But ferrets also didn’t have broad shoulders, and hands with long, elegant fingers. I wonder if his hands are warm or cold. I’ll bet they’re warm. And I’ll bet he would trail them down my back, and I’d run my hands across his chest and down his—what does Sam call it? Oh, right, treasure trail to his—

"Nuts."

Lisa jumped again. Sam sat down at the table. She was looking over the potion ingredients.

"Nuts. Who ever heard of nuts in a potion? Vodka? A cigar? Three tail hairs from a pregnant leopard? What the hell kind of potion is this, anyway?"

"Weren’t you listening? It lets you control someone’s dreams," Lisa explained patiently. Sam was smart, but wasn’t very good at paying attention to things at times. She could be downright blonde, to be honest. In actuality, she had strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes, and was so fair that Lisa swore there was Veela blood in there somewhere.

"God, what I could do to Fred’s dreams… One time, at the Burrow, we were in Bill’s room and we came across these magazines. Quite interesting. And there was this book… the karma sutera…something like that…"

"Kama Sutra," Draco said. He was standing behind the two girls.

"What?"

"It was the Kama Sutra you were looking at, Fawcett." Malfoy looked at Lisa. His eyes weren’t grey, she decided. They were…steel. Silver. Platinum. Stormy seas. They were… gorgeous.

"So, Turpin. Ever seen it?"

Lisa’s mouth was dry. I’ll bet he could wet my—she stopped herself. This is Malfoy! Draco Malfoy!

Draco snickered. "That’s what I thought. Too bad. It’s really quite… educational."

Sam spoke up. "Yeah, your father probably made you take a quiz on it when he gave you the little talk about the birds and the bees. ‘Quick, Draco, demonstrate the Standing Lotus position!’"

"You’re just jealous because I can do things to a woman that Fred Weasley could only dream of, Fawcett."

"Jealous? Fred can make me—"

A very cold voice. "Fascinating though this aspect of Miss Fawcett’s life undoubtedly is, I think that the conversation would be better focused on the potion at hand. Would you find that… satisfactory, Miss Fawcett?"

Sam went scarlet as the whole class stared at her. She noticed that Ron Weasley had his head buried on his desk.

Guess that was a little too much information about his brother.

She looked up at Snape. "We were just discussing—"

"I heard what you were discussing. You three will report to my office tonight for detention."

Sam and Draco spoke at the same time.

"But, Professor, Lisa wasn’t—" Sam.

"Why do I get detention? I was only—" Draco.

"You three get detention because I say you get detention." Snape glided away. "And 10 points from Ravenclaw," he added over his shoulder.

Sam looked at Lisa. "We’re screwed, aren’t we?"

Lisa nodded, brown eyes thoughtful. "Pretty much."

"And we have detention with Malfoy!" Sam hissed. "It’s not bad enough that we have detention, no, it’s with Malfoy!"

Lisa, on the other hand, couldn’t help but look forward to the evening.

 

"What do you suppose he’s going to make us do?" Looking at her friend, Sam noted that Lisa seemed a bit anxious.

She curled her hair. She curled her hair and put on more makeup. For detention?

Which was unusual. How many times had they been in detention? Too many to count, it seemed. There was the Traffic Cone Incident, the armadillos, the Yule Ball…

Well. The less said, the better.

"What does it matter? We have to do it with Malfoy. He’s probably just going to sit back and order us around, like we’re house-elves or something."

"Come on, Sam, Malfoy’s not that bad, is he?"

"Who put the vodka in the milkshake machines last year? Oh, wait, that was me…"

"That was you?" Lisa was impressed. She’d bet five Galleons that the culprit was Fred/George Weasley (the two were interchangeable), but as the perpetrator had never been identified, the bet had been called off. Still, she had no trouble believing Sam capable of something like that. Her parents didn’t approve of the girl, saying that she was a bad influence on Lisa, and Lisa, even now, was still shocked by some of the things Sam said and did, but there was no denying that she was a lot of fun to be around.

"Yeah. But…I was under the influence."

"Imperius?!"

"No. Tequila." With a wave of her long fingers, Sam dismissed the subject. "Bygones. Look, all I’m trying to say is that Malfoy’s—"

The voice came from behind the two girls. "Malfoy is what?"

Both girls jumped.

"God, Draco, could you cut that shit out? You’re as bad as Snape, creeping around like that."

"You’re just upset because everyone in Potions knows about your sex life, Fawcett."

"You’re just upset because you don’t have a sex life, Malfoy."

His gray eyes studied Lisa. "I believe I could remedy that fact any time I wanted. Would you agree, Miss Turpin?"

Wordlessly, Lisa nodded. She felt, rather than saw Sam’s eyebrows raise. She couldn’t help but be lost in Draco’s grey regard—this is Draco Malfoy! Ferret Boy!—her mind reminded her, but she ignored it. Taking Draco’s proffered arm, the two strode down the corridor, a very confused Sam following behind.

"Ah. Our little miscreants. So glad to see you’re on time," Snape greeted with a sneer as the three entered the Potions room.

Sam piped up, right on cue. "What mind-expanding activities did you have in mind for us tonight, Professor?" Lisa cringed inwardly. I keep telling her that her mouth will be her downfall.

It must have been a trick of the light. Lisa was sure of it. There was no way that she would ever see a smile cross Snape’s face. But…something crossed his face, and something like amusement flickered in his eyes, for just a second. Maybe he’s been sniffing his Potions ingredients again.

"Tonight’s…activity. Well, I was thinking about the events in the classroom. Miss Fawcett certainly has a propensity to try to categorize things, so you will re-label and organize all of the supplies in the Potions cabinet."

Sam looked mutinous. "There’re things living in there that are asking for the right to vote!"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Are you unhappy with your assignment, Miss Fawcett?"

"Oh, no sir. Not at all. I think it’s entirely appropriate. Mr. Malfoy here was just saying how much he has benefited from your methods of education, and how much he admires them." Draco glared at her, and Lisa wondered if she were going to have to try to renegotiate the cease-fire in Northern Ireland.

"Very well. I will leave you to it. Mr. Filch will be checking in on you periodically."

Lisa muttered something under her breath about Home Cat Experiments on Mrs. Norris, Draco and Sam snickered, and with a flourish of black robes, Snape was gone.

Draco turned on Sam. "Will you ever learn to shut up?"

Sam wasn’t expecting that. "Just because I think on my feet--"

"Yes, you use your mouth a lot, don’t you? But tell me all about how you…help…Fred Weasley, why don’t you?"

"Oh, your father wasn’t able to teach you enough? Would you like to watch us one night? See how it’s done without one hand and a stack of magazines?"

Draco stepped towards her, his fists clenched. "Look, you little bitch—"

"Draco, Sam, look, you want to kill each other, go for it. But not right now. Let’s just get this over with." Lisa headed for the cabinets. "I’ve heard that there are very interesting things in his cabinets."

"Not to mention under his robes."

Draco and Lisa looked at Sam.

She looked back at them, blue eyes wide. "Did I say that out loud?" They nodded. "Well, I mean, he has that whole brooding Heathcliff thing going on…I’m just kidding! It’s a joke! Work with me, people."

"Her parents taught her a lot about the Muggle world," Lisa murmured to Draco, who was looking blank at the mention of Heathcliff.

He nodded. "That makes sense. I guess they thought she’d be a Squib or something."

"I heard that, you little ferret! Hey, tell me, is everything about you little? Hmmm?"

Lisa took charge. "Sam, you make labels. Draco and I will re-organize everything in the cabinets."

* * * * *

Several hours later, the three were covered in dust. Bottles lay on the desk in front of Sam, who dusted them off, re-wrote the label and handed it back to either Lisa or Draco.

"You’re really good at this, Draco." Lisa stood back and admired his work. The bottles were arranged in perfect rows, in alphabetical order, starting at the top of the cabinet.

"My father insists on order in his home." Draco’s voice was tight, and, looking at him, Lisa saw a haunted look on his face. Just for a moment. Then the Malfoy Mask was back in place.

Sam handed him a bottle. Draco started to take it, glanced at the label, and glared at her. "Are you trying to be funny?"

"What?"

"’Organic stuff floating in murky liquid’ is not what I would call an ingredient label."

"I can’t read the label that’s on here!"

"Let me see it." With a sigh, Draco took it from Sam. Lisa walked over to him.

"If I can read my father’s handwriting, I can read anything. It looks like…" Draco stopped in surprise.

"Fawcett, do you still have that bottle of vodka in your trunk?"

"My name’s Samantha, thank you, and how’d you know about that?"

Draco grinned at her. "If anyone in this school has liquor, it’s you." He turned his gaze to Lisa.

Lisa swallowed—how can he do that? Look at me as though he’s seen me in…compromising positions?-- then spoke up. "Yes, she’s got it. Why?"

"Because this is a bottle of tail hairs from a pregnant leopard."

Both the girls looked at him blankly.

"My father sent me a box of cigars. For my birthday. With these, we can create our own little potion."

"Your father gives you cigars for your birthday? A subscription to PlayWizard might be more useful."

Draco glared at Sam.

Lisa looked at Sam. "Are you pondering what I’m pondering?"

"I think so. But I think this time, Draco should wear the collar and leash. Fred’s getting tired of it." Her eyes gleamed wickedly and she winked at Draco.

Draco’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline.

* * * * *

Detention was finally, mercifully, over. Towards the end, Draco and Sam were at each other’s throats constantly.

Lisa had lost patience with the both of them and had ordered them to opposite sides of the room.

And in this corner, representing Slytherin, let’s hear it for…Draco Malfoy!

And in the opposite corner, representing Ravenclaw, let’s give it up for…Samantha Fawcett!

Sam had gone to her corner, protesting vociferously, while Draco gave Lisa an appraising glance.

"You’re certainly…forceful…when you take charge, aren’t you, Turpin?"

Her response was immediate. "My name is Lisa." And why do I think he’s going to ask me if I own a black leather corset? Why do I want to go out and buy a black leather corset?

"Lisa…" Something in the way Draco said it made her think of the Arabian Nights, exotic spices, other things exotic…she resolved to find out more about this Kama Sutra thing, whatever it was.

After all, her parents sent her to Hogwarts to get an education.

The next morning, Draco sauntered casually over to the Ravenclaw table. Sitting down next to Lisa, he smiled at her.

It wasn’t an altogether evil smile, but it sent shivers down her spine. "What are you doing this Saturday?"

Lisa smiled back. "Not anything that I know of."

"Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me? I’m sure there are parts of it you’ve never seen."

"I’d…love to. Okay, sure, I’m in."

"You’re into what?" Sam’s voice startled the two, and Lisa jumped.

Draco turned. "That’s not any of your business."

"That’s good, coming from you. You’re into everyone’s business. Fed Rita Skeeter any exclusives lately? How much does she pay you, anyway?"

Lisa had Had Enough. "Okay, you two. Follow me!" Draco and Sam exchanged glances but followed Lisa obediently down several corridors, up a few flights of stairs, and past many statues before she stopped at a door. It was Lisa’s own version of the Imperius Curse. She tried the knob but the door was locked.

She pointed her wand. "Alohomora!" The door opened to reveal a broom closet. A large one, but a broom closet. She nodded to the two who stood silent before her.

"In the closet. Both of you. And give me your wands."

Draco found his voice first. "I’m not getting in the closet with—with her."

"I’m not getting in the closet with him!"

Both of them: "Are you crazy?"

Lisa smiled tightly. "No, I’m not. I am tired of the two of you constantly bickering. I want you to get in the closet and stay there until you can agree to be civil."

Sam clearly thought Lisa had flipped. "Lisa, look, let’s just put down the wand and talk about this, okay? Everything’s okay, just put down the wand…"

"Don’t talk to me like I’m a psychopath! I am sick of you two. You always get in trouble and you always manage to drag me into it. I can get into plenty of trouble on my own." She took a deep breath. "Get in the closet! Or I will make you." Her wand was aimed directly at the two.

Sam grabbed Draco’s arm. "Uh, she means it. She’s beyond reason right now. She’s got PMS, and I promise you, I’d rather face a pack of rabid werewolves than cross her when she gets like this."

Draco appeared to be weighing his options. Finally he nodded, handed his wand to Lisa and gestured to the open door.

"After you, Fawcett."

* * * * *

Sam broke the silence first. "So. How ‘bout those Chudley Cannons?"

Silence. She could see, just vaguely, a Draco-shaped lump sitting on the floor opposite her.

"This is all your fault."

"My fault? You’re the one that’s always barging in where you aren’t wanted!"

A sigh. The Draco-lump shifted. "All you redheads are alike."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Hot-tempered. Fiery."

Silence.

"So. What’s Malfoy Manor like? Is it all big spiders and skeletons in the hallways and ominous creaking sounds and people that jump out to scare you wherever you go?"

"It’s just a house." Sulky Malfoy.

"Just a house? My father said it was like, and I quote, Buckingham fucking palace."

"Your father’s been to the Manor?"

"Long time ago. Don’t remember the reason why. He never talked to me much."

"What does your father do?"

"He’s dead. Last year."

Sam could have sworn she heard genuine sympathy in Draco’s voice. "I’m sorry."

"He got in with a pack of Armenian werewolves. Bit messy, that."

"And your mother?"

"Ran off to Brazil with Raul the pool man and was never seen again."

"Always have a comeback, don’t you?"

Sam was silent. Uh oh. Somehow I feel like I’m walking through a minefield.

"We’re not so different, you know." The Draco-lump shifted again. Was he moving…next to her?

Yeah. And McGonagall’s going to have us Transfigure buttons into doobies in class tomorrow.

"Sure we are."

"How? How are we different?" Draco was openly challenging her now.

"Well, you’re in Slytherin. You’re a boy. You’re rich. You’ve got a pair of—"

"And you’ve got a pair as well. I meant, however, that we both wear a mask. We both play parts."

Sam got up. "Look, I didn’t realize that this was going to be some sort of…encounter group. I have better things to do—"

"And better people to do?"

"You little—" Sam grabbed for Draco but he slipped up behind her and held her arms to her sides. He moves like a cat, she thought.

"Look. I like Lisa, okay? I’d like to get to know her better. But I know that she listens to you. Merlin knows why, but she does. And you’re in my way."

Her sarcasm was palpable. "Oh, I’m in your way. True Slytherin. Get rid of whatever’s in your way. Did you ever consider why I’m in your way? Yeah, that pesky little membership in the Death Eater of the Month Club can be so tiresome—"

"I am not a Death Eater," he hissed in her ear.

"Guess I know where your buttons are, huh? Death Eater. How many of the Unforgivables have you performed? Did you like it? Did it make you feel like a big man? Was Daddy proud of his ickle Draco? You’re just like him," she spat.

Had Charlotte known Draco Malfoy better, she would have recognized the danger in his soft voice. "You want to push my buttons? Fine. I’ll push yours. I know where they are."

She folded her arms. "Where? Where are my buttons?" He doesn’t know anything about me.

She had always thought of Draco Malfoy as being cold. Emotionless. The last thing she expected was for him to lose his temper. But he did. Holding her against the wall, he brought his face down to hers. His voice was quiet, silky, mysterious. He sounds like Snape.

"Tell me more about your father. How did he die? I heard that he killed himself. That true? Too much of a coward to face life with your poor, drunken mother? Was she your role model? Do you plan to drink yourself into an early grave just like her?" Sam’s mother had died shortly after Christmas their fourth year.

She couldn’t move. She didn’t know what to say, or what to think. Draco Malfoy’s voice echoed in her ear, insinuating, accusing.

How on earth could he have known?

He pulled back. "You asked for that, Fawcett."

Sam didn’t answer.

"Fawcett?"

No answer. Don’t give him the satisfaction. She pushed the emotions that she was feeling down where they belonged.

A tinge of concern was in his voice now. "Answer me. Are you okay?"

A hand on her shoulder. "Samantha?"

"Just get me out of here." She was numb.

"Lisa won’t be back for another hour."

"Then sit there. And don’t say another word to me. If you want to date her, fine. I won’t stand in your way. You don’t talk to me and I won’t talk to you. But don’t think I won’t tell her just what you did to me in here."

That soft voice. "And just what did I do to you in here?"

She didn’t know how to answer that. Draco’s voice was so soft that she had to lean forward to hear him.

"I told you the truth."