Rubesco

Rubesco

Christmas was not a holiday Draco Malfoy appreciated much. He did not buy gifts, and he did not get any either. Therefore he was granted the pleasure of sitting inside a hot café, watching the stressful witches and wizards walking up and down the street of Diagon Alley. The snow made the street slippery, and Draco was restraining himself from grinning when a witch lost control and fell onto her bottom, her wrapped up gifts falling to the ground all around her.

His tea was the strong kind. The white porcelain cup with small drawings of blue flowers stood in grand contrast to the dark brown tea, which was without sugar and milk. He was moving the tip of the spoon in a circular motion, still. The slow movement with his hand was the only activity Draco did besides amusing himself with the worrying witches and wizards. He did not notice her coming into the café, and he barely took notice of her when she ordered a tea just like his. It was not until she grabbed the chair beside him, took off her cloak and scarf, sat down and stared at him that Draco became aware of her presence.

"Padma," he said, sounding very distant. "I didn't see you out there."

"I saw you," she said, as she received a cup similar to Draco's, and gave the waitress a small smile before turning back to him. "You looked wicked. This strange smile on your face as if you actually were enjoying the fact that the old woman fell."

"I didn't enjoy it," Draco replied with his eyes narrowed, "and she wasn't that old. Now drink your tea."

"When will you stop doing that?"

"Doing what?" Draco asked her, showing off his lack of interest by returning to looking out of the window.

"Telling people what to do is what I mean."

"I'll stop when you leave that abusing psychopath you're currently dating."

"If I hadn't known better, Draco, I'd thought you might be gay."

Padma was eyeing Draco very carefully as she let her words out. The extremely pale, young man did not move; only his gray eyes were flickering. They were intense - almost unreal and stared at Padma Patil with an unmistakable message.

Draco Malfoy was anything but homosexual. And even if he had been, surely he would never let anyone know it. It would be suicide for a man that had used all of his adult life telling homosexual people what a disgrace they were to the entire magical community. The homosexuals had become Draco's victims after he had given up hating all Muggle-borns. In the end, Draco did realize that his enemies, which would be all the people with Muggle-blood, easily could outnumber his so-called 'Purebloods'. So he changed his tactics.

"Gay?" he replied. "Now, how on earth could you make me a gay out of that sentence I just said?"

"I couldn't," Padma replied smugly, as she took a sip of her tea. "But I did get your attention, did I not?"

She also got Draco into a bad mood. He continued to glare at her, even if she glared back at him.

"Oh, you're such a baby," she sighed, giving up the staring contest. "So, why did you want me to meet you anyways?"

"Obviously it wasn't to tell you that I'm homosexual."

"Well, yes, obviously." The awkward silence between them was everything but abnormal. It was rarely they even had a conversation that lasted for more than a few minutes. Usually Pansy Parkinson, or perhaps even Blaise Zabini, would join the company and carry on the conversation. Neither Draco nor Padma were really capable of having a dialogue on their own.

This time there was nobody around to help them. The chatting people in the café could not care less if the two people by the window were incapable of making sentences to each other or not. Even if the silence between them had been noticed, it was not likely anybody would take the risk of interfering in a possible conversation between Draco Malfoy and the fiancée of Blaise Zabini, Padma Patil.

"So," Padma said after a few minutes of staring into her teacup. "I haven't heard too much from you lately. You've been busy?"

"Not really," Draco replied, looking into her teacup as well. "Actually, I've been told to stay away from you."

"Is that so," Padma said, not letting her eyes leave her cup. "By whom, I may ask?"

"I think you know who," Draco replied, deciding not to bring up Blaise's name. Being in a public place was hideous enough without mentioning Blaise's name. He was not exactly a friend of Draco.

"Blaise?" Padma asked. "Blaise asked you to? Why would he do that?"

"Don't ask me," Draco replied. "I don't know him as well as you do. You tell me."

"I think he knows, Draco," Padma said, finally letting her eyes leave the teacup and stop at the pale face of Draco.

"Oh, really, you think?" Draco childishly said, still staring into the cup. "Honestly, I think we shall all pray and thank Lucius Malfoy for keeping his son safe from Blaise. He would have murdered me at once, you know, if Blaise had not had the respect he has for Father, even if Lucius Malfoy is a bit... disturbed these days."

"Blaise can't murder you for that, Draco," Padma said, almost laughing.

"Blaise doesn't know right from wrong, Padma," Draco hissed. "He would have murdered me if he'd seen me hug you in public." They both knew, indeed, that Draco would never have hugged anyone - public or private. Hugs were just not his thing.

"You're overreacting, Draco," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Really?" Draco said, tilting his head to one side, staring at her upper chin. "And, may I ask, what exactly did you do to earn that bruise?" Padma instantly raised her hand and hid the right part of her face. "Did you forget to iron his underwear? Didn't you put toothpaste at his toothbrush? Did he have to put butter on his own bread?"

"This is absurd," Padma mumbled to herself, getting to her feet, grabbing her purse. "I don't have to listen to this," she whispered while putting her cloak on, barely hearing Draco's constant hissing in the background.

"Did you cook the same food twice the same month? Did you use all of your allowance a day before he'd decided you would? Did you answer an owl without his permission, Padma? Did you forget to pretend like you enjoyed him in bed?" At the last comment, Padma quickly turned and stared angrily into his narrowed eyes.

"Don't push it, Draco," she hissed back.

"Push what," Draco mocked her, as he took one step closer to her. He felt her angry breath at his Adam's apple, and her black eyes showed both fear and fury at the same time. "Are you afraid, Padma? Perhaps it's time you do something?" he asked, smoothly.

"What's going on here?" a brisk voice said. Draco's head turned to the right to see the owner of the café standing with a bottle in his left hand and a small glass in the right. He was no actual threat, as he was only serving one of his guests.

"Nothing, sir," Draco said, putting on his very best manner. Carefully he reached for his hat, put it on his silver blond head, gave Padma a nod as he grabbed his cloak and walked past her out of the door. The small bell that ringed as he let the door shut behind him reminded Draco of his childhood. The small bell meant fencing class. Draco shook his head to get the image of himself fighting a small Frenchman in an all white uniform.

Draco, naturally, wore black.

Draco took a quick glance back at the café as he was searching for something in his pockets. Padma was gone, and Draco imagined she would be on her way back to her 'darling'. Draco took a lighter and a pack of cigarettes out of his pockets. He stopped walking, as he put the cigarette into his mouth and covered the flame from the lighter with his hand as he tried to light his cigarette. When finished, he slipped the lighter down in his pocket, while breathing smoke out of his nose.

Smoking was, according to Draco, his only bad habit. But the boredom of spending every summer inside a manor would make any man go utterly insane, or just simply get a hobby like smoking.

His mother had not accepted the fact that her fifteen-year-old son was smoking cigarettes when he had first started, but had never tried to stop him. Draco remembered her walking into his small study room at Malfoy Manor, discovering him smoking. His first thought had been to thank god it had not been Lucius. His second thought had been that Narcissa would tell Lucius anyway, so either way he was doomed.

Draco had seen himself in the mirror next to his mother; a thin, pale boy with greasy hair holding a cigarette in his delicate fingers. Being at home, Draco had been letting days pass before he would take a shower. He was not allowed to leave the house anyways, so it didn't matter how he looked.

The reason why he was not supposed to leave the house was simple. Draco was aware of the reason upon looking at his own reflection in the mirror. His dark red pupils stared right back at him. They were surrounded with a light red circle. Draco Malfoy was an albino, and he hated it.

A simple spell hid his 'abnormality' over the day. However, he had to take off the spell when he went to sleep. Draco did not know why it was so important to remember and he was not to find out.

His eyes had left the mirror, and ended up at his own mother. Draco's mother had only stared back at him, before she had quickly shut the door, walked over to him and almost lifted him up from his sitting position.

"Darling, you can't sit down on the floor like that," she mumbled, and Draco was not sure either if she was talking to him or herself. "You'll end up sick, darling, and that's not a good thing."

Not a word about his smoking.

"Get dressed," she said, eyeing him before she left the room just as quickly as she had arrived.

That is how she found out about Draco's 'bad habit'.

And even if it was ten years ago, Draco still remembered her perfume through his own smell of smoke and sweat as if it was yesterday. But then again, Draco did not easily forget.

The memory was in his mind as Draco walked down Diagon Alley. He gave a complete shit about the people that were shouting at him. They called him names as he walked straight forward making people jump away from his path. He was angry, both with himself and with Padma. Nobody in their right mind could possibly come up with the extremely lousy idea of actually marrying Blaise Zabini!

"Draco Malfoy," a voice said as he passed an ice cream parlor. Incredibly enough, ice cream was still sold even if it was December the 20^th. Draco did not want to turn to see who it was that called his name, but he did anyways. Looking at the familiar face of Hermione Granger, he wished he had just walked on.

"Granger," he replied, as he forced a smile. His eyes, however, did not look happy to see her.

Hermione had just finished her glass of ice cream, and deserted it at the table next to her as she said: "Let's walk, Malfoy."

Obviously, Draco did not have much of a choice. He was already being under investigation because of ceremonies in which Muggles had been sacrificed that had been held at his Manor during the summer. As Draco was one of the very few that knew that Lucius Malfoy was still alive, he simply had negotiated and tried to convince people of his innocence without telling anybody about Lucius. Of course, Draco would have been happy if his father could have kept his sacrifices somewhere else than at the lawn that belonged to Draco according to Lucius' testament. Most importantly one should not sacrifice Muggles in the middle of broad daylight on a Sunday afternoon in the summer, Draco thought.

Draco was convinced that Lucius Malfoy had seen his better days, been brighter, and obviously had not been completely out of his own mind as he was currently.

"If this is about your investigation, Granger, I'm afraid I can't say anything without my lawyer present," Draco said in hope she would let him off the hook. Granger was leading the way through the everlasting stream of people who hurried up and down Diagon Alley.

"It's not about that," Hermione said, with her back against Draco, who saw nothing but her brown hair, which was pulled into a ponytail. She was not touching him, her hand was not gripped around his wrist or anything, but Draco followed her steps correctly. He knew better than to just simply walk away from the woman who held his faith in her hands.

"Then what is it? Why the fuck are we trying to work our bloody way through a street on which at least every person on earth is currently walking?" Draco demanded, making Hermione turn around.

"Because, Malfoy, you're being followed."

Instantly Draco turned, as if he had seen his follower right behind himself.

"You're lying," Draco replied, with his eyes narrowed.

"I'm not lying," Hermione mocked him back happily seeing that Draco seemed to believe her bluff. "Now, follow me."

"For what?" Draco said childishly, stopping abruptly in the middle of the alley.

"This is honestly not the place to discuss this," she snapped, giving an anxious glance. Then she grabbed his hand, and her nails dug into his palm. Just the shock of being touched by Hermione Granger was enough for Draco to be disorientated, and he had no choice but to follow her as she began to walk, and drag him along.

She led him into a small passageway of Diagon Alley, and Draco finally got his hand back. In that very instant, the old Draco Malfoy returned out of the blue.

"You filthy Mudblood," he spat, shaking his hand violently as if something was stuck at it refusing to let go. "Isn't there any water around here? I need to clean my hand," he growled shooting Hermione glares.

"I thought homosexuals were your target these days, Malfoy," Hermione said, without letting a feeling pass in her voice.

"You're all the same," Draco mumbled, using his cloak as a towel even if he was not wet.

"This is a nice place to talk," Hermione said, crossing her arms. "Recently I've been transferred to the Woman Abuse Centre to assist them with the investigations of abusive husbands."

"Is that so?" Draco replied, looking bored. "Now, considering I don't have a wife, I really don't know why this concerns me in any way whatsoever."

"No, I know you don't," Hermione said, eyeing him carefully. "But as it happens, you're not in the position of being cheeky with me. I still lead the investigation against you."

"Something tells me you don't have a husband, or a life, Granger."

"Your friend Blaise Zabini," Hermione said, easily ignoring Draco's comment, "is, at the moment, in our light as well. Not only was he present at your last ... Party, shall we call it?"

"I told you I can't speak about that until my lawyer is around."

"Whatever," Hermione said, "my concerns at the moment is Zabini's abuse of women." She looked at Draco, who shrugged. "You don't know anything about that?"

"Why would I know anything about him hitting women?"

"Because you're quite friendly with his wife."

"Upcoming wife," Draco corrected her. At that very moment Draco knew he had fallen into Hermione's trap.

"Padma Patil," Hermione whispered, looking straight into Draco's eyes. "She was your sweetheart back at Hogwarts, wasn't she?"

"Never," Draco replied quietly. He was speaking the truth. Not that he felt he had to, nor that he felt Hermione had a grip on him because of Lucius' most recent party - but because he wanted to. The rumours about him and Padma had nearly destroyed him at Hogwarts. His father had not liked the fact that Draco was dating an Asian girl, as it would ruin the blond hair and pale skin of the Malfoy clan.

Hundreds of times Draco had tried to explain that it was not like he was about to get her pregnant. He had only wanted to be with her. Of course, this sounded outrageous in his father's ears. So, she had ended up with Blaise Zabini.

"Malfoy," Hermione said in a soft voice, "do you know anything about Padma being abused by Blaise?"

"No," Draco easily lied. "I know Blaise doesn't have the best temper," he carried on, almost surprising himself, "but he would never ... harm her." The complete lie streamed out of his mouth as if he was giving Hermione a confession he had been holding to himself for ages. However, the look on her face showed that she was not pleased.

"I don't believe you, Malfoy," she said quietly. Her disgust for Draco Malfoy had turned into a fascination, which again had led to her having him as her expertise. She could tell he was lying. She had been into too many conversations with this man to be fooled again. When she skipped the obvious dislike he had for her in his eyes, saw through his usual comments about her Muggle parents, how bad her hair looked and that she could not possibly have a life - she could see the drawings of the real Draco Malfoy.

He was nothing but a disturbed child who had spent all of his life hating and lying.

She could see him opening his mind to her, telling her his honest opinion, his deepest thoughts. Hermione of all people had this gift when it came to him. She had spent hours and hours in front of the records of him, seeing how he reacted at her questions.

"You protect your own," he whispered back at her, "just as I protect mine."

"Then protect Padma, Draco," she urged, hearing her mistake as his name left her lips.

"You're in no right or position of calling me that, Granger," Draco hissed. Gone was the small glimpse of Draco - the Scratch. Back was Draco with his very protective shell. "Was that it?"

"Malfoy," Hermione said, trying desperately to get back to where she had been only moments before even if she knew she had lost him. "Malfoy, you must warn her."

"Warn her?" Draco mocked her, grinning broadly. "Say, Granger, if you insist that he's being abusive against her, don't you think she is warned already? I think she would know, don't you?"

"He's sick, Malfoy," Hermione said, so desperate of getting his full attention that she spilled all of her cards. Draco looked deeply into her eyes with a sickening grin on his face.

"Aren't we all?" he breathed. Hermione tried hard not to take her eyes off of him at the same time she was trying to come up with a reply.

"I mean sick, Malfoy," she said slowly, just wishing his stare was not so intense. She barely noticed that he had stepped closer to her, and she felt his breath at her own mouth. "He's most likely to kill her."

"Oh really?" Draco said in a bored voice. "And why am I supposed to do something against that?"

"I'm not asking you to do anything personally," Hermione said, as she tried hard to keep her voice from shaking. "But you know deep down that he will hurt Padma badly, Malfoy. All I ask for is your help, for Padma's sake."

"Why do you bother to care about Padma, anyway?" Draco asked as Hermione's brown hair tickled his face. "Padma is on the wrong side, is she not? Marrying the son of a Death Eater? And now you come to ask another son of a Death Eater to help her? Granger, this is entirely her own fault."

"She didn't know what she was up for!" exclaimed Hermione all of a sudden, feeling the anger rise inside of her.

"Do you know her, perhaps?"

"No," she admitted, seeing a victorious smile spread across his face. "But you do. And I can't possibly imagine that even you can just stand there and watch him killing her slowly."

"I'm not usually around when it happens," Draco replied. "But this is hardly any of your concern, Granger. Padma could have chosen not to accept this proposal if she wanted to. This is what she wants, Granger. Not everybody has got the possibility of becoming what they want and earn money by themselves. Sacrifices must be made, and obviously Padma has made hers."

"It's wrong! She should..."

Draco interrupted Hermione. "Granger, why on earth are you telling me this? Do I look like Padma Patil? Do you really think I have any influence on what she does whatsoever?"

"If anybody does, you would be the one."

"Oh, I see," Draco said. "You disappoint me, Granger. I thought you were brighter than this. I can't influence Padma in any way."

"But you have to!" Hermione said, suddenly feeling vulnerable. Her entire plan of making Draco do something was shattered from the inside. Had she really believed that Draco Malfoy, who despised her, would do anything for her? - That he would save an innocent girl from an abusive man to do Hermione a favour? Draco Malfoy just did not do favours, and especially not for Hermione Granger.

"Excuse me, Granger, but I've got a meeting to attend to," said Draco stepping away from her. Hermione could see the blond man was turning to leave her, and thus she spilled her last card. A card that could ruin whatever connection she had with this person.

"You're quite tall for being an albino, Malfoy." As she had suspected, Draco stopped walking abruptly. He stood with his back to her for quite some time. When he finally turned, his face did not show any emotion. Clearly, Hermione's feeling about him being an albino had been right.

"A what?" Draco asked quietly, doing everything in his power not to jump at her and snap her neck.

"You heard me," Hermione replied, walking closer to him so she did not have to shout. "You're far too blond for your own good, so is your pale skin. Your eyes are almost transparent, and I do believe that just a small spell could reveal your ..." She paused, as if she had troubles saying it. "Red eyes."

His eyes flickered. "I trust you're going somewhere with this?" he hissed, incapable of keeping the anger out of his voice.

"Just try, Malfoy," Hermione said, looking firm. "Try to convince her. She has to leave him. Do whatever it takes." Draco did not reply. He only glared at Hermione for a moment, before he turned and disappeared into the stream of people walking down Diagon Alley.

:::

Padma Patil stood in the kitchen of the house that she shared with Blaise Zabini. She was slowly stirring the sauce that was a part of the supper she was about to serve. Usually, the words of Draco Malfoy were forgotten seconds after she had been talking to him. It was not the first time Draco had been trying to convince her not to marry Blaise, but this time he had pushed it too far.

She knew Blaise was waiting for his supper, so she did not actually have time to philosophy about Draco's words at the moment.

At the same time, somebody knocked at the door.

"Blaise, darling, could you answer that?"

"You're closer to the door," Blaise replied.

"Yes, I know, but I'm ..."

"You always blame something else than your own incapability, don't you?" Blaise hissed as he passed her on his way towards the door. She could hear his footsteps, the sound of the opening door and the familiar voice of Draco.

"Blaise, I need to speak to you."

"No, you don't," Blaise replied. Padma was slowly moving closer to where the men were standing.

"It's quite important."

"You always say that, Draco, and every time it's a complete lie. You always keep speaking about your problems, and they honestly don't concern me." With that, Blaise threw the door in Draco's face. Seconds later, someone knocked at the door again. "Fuck you!" Blaise roared at the closed door. He saw Padma in the doorway to the kitchen, and nodded. "That's how you get rid of Draco Malfoy."

Then the door vanished into thin air. Through the hole in the wall stepped Draco.

"We really need to talk, Blaise."

"You just got rid of my front door!"

"Well, yes, it was necessary."

"I wouldn't say so."

"Obviously not. But it wouldn't be the first matter we would disagree about, now would it?" Draco gave Padma a polite nod, before he stepped inside the kitchen, walked across the floor and into the dining room. Blaise followed him, giving Padma a quiet message not to follow them. Quickly, Padma walked over to her oven and turned off the plate. Then she quietly walked over to the door leading to the dining room, and tried to hear what they said.

"Stone walls," she heard Draco said. "Very... odd, isn't it? Stone walls in your dining room, I mean?"

"Cut it, Draco. Tell me what it was that was so important, you had to ruin my door."

"Fine. I've got Granger at my back again," Draco said, clearly walking around in the room as she could hear footsteps much lighter than what Blaise's would ever be. "Now worse than ever."

"Really," Blaise said, sounding bored.

"This time it includes you too, Blaise, dear," Draco added sharply. "Granger has been transferred to the Woman Abuse Centre."

"Oh," Blaise said, again sounding bored. "But, that's good, is it not? Then somebody else will take over the investigation about Lucius' party?"

"Oh, shut it," Draco spat. "Don't say his name out loud. And no, it's not a good thing. She will still lead the investigation against me and play an important role in her new job. And in case you don't know, Granger has a death grip on me."

"So she's using you," Blaise said, and Padma could hear how he lit a cigarette. "Clearly, you need to sort out your priorities. You can't both be the cool Malfoy and then help Granger."

"I'm not bloody helping Granger," Draco hissed. "Earlier this day she walked up on me, telling me that you were in their light. Obviously, they know you're beating Padma senseless." Padma's eyes grew big as she heard Blaise push his chair backwards, obviously standing up.

"You be careful there, Draco."

"Well, it's no secret, is it?" Suddenly Padma heard somebody come closer to the door, and when it was opened she looked straight into the beetle black eyes of Blaise Zabini.

"I told you not to listen to us!" he shouted, grabbing her by her hair before he dragged her inside. Padma could see the outlines of Draco through her tears, and she could hear his voice.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Don't think I don't know about you two!"

"Blaise, that was ... That's ten years ago!"

"And?"

"This is madness, Blaise. Let her go. You're just proving what they say about you."

"Tell me that you haven't shagged her since I am with her, Draco. You tell me that," Blaise was literally lifting Padma by her hair, and she was trying hard not to scream out loud.

Draco was quiet. Why didn't he just say 'no'? Padma had never believed in God, but at that moment she started to pray. She prayed for Draco to have the ability to lie in front of Blaise - that he did not back off as he usually did.

"Tell me!" Blaise roared.

"This is mad," Draco replied in a quiet voice. "You are mad."

TBC