In Real Life

Chapter 3: In Real Life- Malfoy Manor

Draco Malfoy sat on the edge of the large leather chair, his whole body tense. Lucius Malfoy was reclined in front of him, behind his gigantic mahogany desk, trying very hard to look enigmatic and forbidding. Draco thought he succeeded at looking like a big stupid lemur, but then again, he was feeling charitable.

"I have received a very interesting letter from that old fool, Dumbledore, Draco. It was referring to the onslaught of scandalous fanfiction being written about that Muggle-loving institution," said Lucius.

Draco kept his face completely blank as his thoughts sped on furiously. Why would he call me in here to tell me this? Smarmy git thinks he can call me up any time and I'll answer like a dog... oooh, just you wait.... Draco bore no great love for his father, and likewise, Lucius Malfoy only saw his son as something to be used, not loved. However, their system worked for them, so neither one was inclined to try to change things.

"I also want you to know," continued Lucius, " that we are using the Muggles quite efficiently in undermining Dumbledore's cause." Lucius sighed dramatically. "It shames me to know just how many wizards nowadays are actually keeping up with the Muggle's magic, their 'computers' and 'internet' things... but it's usefully to us, and the Dark Lord has already ordered the Inner Circle to begin their training." Lucius paused for effect and leaned back. "How are you coming along?"

Lucius had forced Draco to learn how to use a Muggle computer and bought him a laptop. Draco had rebelled violently at learning how to use anything the least bit Muggle-related, and this was about as bad as it could get. Having known this, Lucius made Draco spend hours in his room alone with his laptop and the internet. However, despite himself, Draco had soon found himself at ease with the laptop (oh, the horror) and actually enjoying surfing the net (say it isn't so!), but he couldn't let on that he was happy to do what he was being forced to do. That wouldn't suit Lucius at all, and knowing his father, the bastard would probably invent some new torture for him.

"I despise it," said Draco, wrinkling his nose in disdain. Inwardly however, he felt impatient to get back to the chat rooms. One met the most interesting people there... "It is far beneath me, so it shouldn't surprise anyone that I've already mastered it."

Lucius's smile toothily, a sight so horrible Draco was forced to stare past father's face and at the dark rows of books on the bookshelf behind Lucius. "Excellent. You can now begin to act as a scout. From no on, when you go 'online', you will look for fiction that is helpful to our cause and write down its location."

Draco nodded, looking bored. Silly git, the smarmy sot... I show you scout... ass. "Yes father."

Lucius nodded and leaned back into his chair sinisterly. "You may go."

Draco got up noiselessly and stalked gracefully out of the room. Although he'd never admit to it (and he'd Avada Kedavra anyone who found out), Draco was so graceful because he'd taken ballet as a child, at his mother's insistence. And still did. Damn... I missed my class... I swear, Lucius will pay for this... With such dark thoughts, Draco walked into his rooms, slammed the heavy double doors, and lay down in front of the bright screen of his computer, which he'd left oh his bed.

Unbeknownst to his father, Draco had been reading through the world of fanfiction for weeks now, and he knew his way around quite well. As Draco scrolled through the lists of fanfiction newly posted, a ghostly head popped up at his through the heavy fabric of his bedspread.

"Nick," said Draco, unperturbed, not even taking his eyes of the screen. "If you want to scare me, you'll have to try something a bit more original."

Nick winked and drifted up until he was completely free of Draco's bed. Then he floated back down so that he looked as if he were sitting cross-legged in the air beside Draco. He leaned in the air to look over Draco's shoulder. "Reading again I see. Anything new?"

Draco shrugged. Nick was the ghost of one of his great, great, great, grand cousins, long deceased. Nick in particular had had an extremely interesting life and death, and he'd died very young (around Draco's age), so he made the perfect companion for Draco. Although he'd been dead for a long time, Nick had managed to keep up with the times and he'd taken a lot of interest in Draco's forays into the world of fanfiction.

"Same old, same old," said Draco. "In some I'm still maldy shagging Potter in every available broom closet."

Nick snickered loudly, rolling slightly from side to side. "Oh god... it's too much. You and the Boy Who Wouldn't Die?" Nick shook his head, smiling widely. "Obviously, the writers of the things had never seen you on Saturday nights and the pub, ladies falling over themselves to get to you."

Draco smirked, his chest swelling. His "exploits" with the local girls had given him a reputation he was happy to uphold. It was a real... labor of love, as he'd heard his mother say once. "Yeah, well, at least it isn't Weasley."

Draco and Nick looked at each other and shivered. "Except for that one last week..." they said simultaneously.

"In other news, I making mad, passionate love to Granger every Monday and Thursday, while cheating on her with the Weasley girl every Tuesday and Wednesday night."

Nick cocked one ghostly eyebrow. "And whatever happened to Friday, Saturday, and Sunday?"

Draco flashed a cocky smirk. "Those are for the rest of the Hogwarts female population."

Nick yawned and rolled backwards in the air as he leaned back. "Well, at least these people are getting the right picture. Although they do seem to enjoy exaggerating..."

Draco scoffed. "Really Nick. That hurt. These people are perfectly credible, although I would like to know where they're getting their information from. They are Muggles, after all."

Nick smiled and nodded sarcastically. "Right. Sure." Then, he looked back at the screen and pointed. "Hey, this looks original... click it."

Draco scrolled down and clicked the link Nick had pointed to. In the next few minutes, silence reigned as Draco and Nick read what could only be the product of a severely disturbed mind.

"Well," said Nick, trying to clear his throat and getting nowhere, being a ghost and all. "That was certainly... creative..." A small laugh escaped him despite his care.

Draco glared at his see-through companion. "Shut up."

Nick laughed openly, his shoulders shaking. "I doubt," he said in between gasps," I doubt Snape would call you his 'little black butterfly' though." Glancing around, Nick grabbed a pair of Draco's ballet tights that had been left out by some careless house-elf and flew around the room, the tights trailing behind him. "Look at me! I'm a butterly... so pretty!"

Draco shuddered and closed the laptop with a snap. "Shut up," he told Nick, his glare more automatic by now than anything else. "Anyway, that's quite enough for today... I may never surf the net again."

Nick stopped zooming around and patted Draco on the back, making Draco shiver from the cold. "Don't worry mate. Not like it's real... right?"

Draco snarled at this last tease and glared at Nick. "If you weren't already dead, I'd kill you." Noticing his tights still in Nick's clutches, Draco snatched them back quickly. "You breath a word of this to anyone, and I will find a way to kill you."

"But you can't," said Nick, smug.

Draco shrugged. "Who knows? I might just raise a basilisk so that I can sic it on you." Draco paused thoughtfully. "Maybe I can get it to eat Lucius too..."

Laughing, Nick sank through Draco's floor. "Hopefully. Last one to the kitchen is flobberworm slime," he said before disappeared from view.

"Idiot," said Draco fondly as he got up and headed down to the kitchens himself.