Pureblood Germs

"This is all your fault, Potter."

"Oh really? Tell me, how is it my fault that we're stuck in a broken elevator."

"You made it stop, you insufferable prat."

"Because I'm more than slightly masochistic and would enjoy nothing more than spending an inordinate amount of time listening to you whinge on and on about how the world's problems are my doing, and how this situation came about because I caused it."

"Well, if I didn't know any better I'd say you had grown a brain. Good job, Potter, you've solved the mysteries of life."

"What? That it's all my fault?"

"Precisely."

"I still don't see how I could have possibly stopped this elevator. I have better things to do with my time than sit here listening to you prattle on and on."

"It's quite obviously your fault. It's known for a fact that wizards brought up by Muggles cannot inhibit their magic as well as Purebloods can. When put in strenuous situations that magic can get out of control and cause predicaments such as this."

"So we were in a strenuous situation?"

"Of course. You were about to be overcome by my manly beauty. Good thing the lights went out and my radiance was therefore dimmed to your plebeian eyes. Otherwise I might have had a crisis on my hands."

"A crisis bigger than being placed in an elevator with you?"

"Potter! You wound me. What could be more entertaining than being placed in an enclosed space with yours truly?"

"Honestly, Malfoy? Nothing. I cannot think of a single thing. This is sarcasm you're hearing, you do know that right?"

"I know it, and choose to ignore it."

"Did you just stick you tongue out at me?"

"Potter, what do you take me for? A first year? I'm ridiculously more mature than sticking my tongue out at you. I would do something drastic and painful, not something nearly as innocent as sticking out my tongue. You were seeing things."

"You did it again! What are you, two!?"

"Oh please, Potter, go put your glasses on. I think the weakening air in here is getting to your head."

"The air is not weakening. This elevator is plenty ventilated. I think you're just being a poncy little- Ow! What are you trying to- Ow! Stop kicking me!"

"Sorry, leg spasm. I've had it since I was little, you know. Dreadful disease. Uncivilized people think I'm attempting to kick them, when in actuality I have no control over it at all."

"Leg spasm my arse. Stop touching me, I don't want to get Pureblood germs on me. You might be contagious."

"I think that might be the best thing that could happen to you, Potter. Being infected by me, I mean. It's not like you're anything now. It might even help your status a bit. You know, with Professor Snape and the Dark Lord and all that. If you had some Malfoy in you I'm sure life would be easier."

"Ugh, I don't think I like where this is going."

"Let's try it! If I just poke your forehead like this, perhaps I can instill some of my suave directly into your skull and you will be saved from your meaningless life as a Gryffindor."

"Argh, Malfoy! I told you to stop touching me! Get your finger away before I bite it off. Get back into your corner so I can contemplate the many ways of committing suicide in a broken elevator."

"Ouch, Potter! You hit me! Uncouth! I am wounded! You might have left a bruise, you cruel Malfoy-beater! I could sue, and have all your money taken away, and your status. I could even have your stupid little glasses taken away. Where would you be then, Potter?"

"If I couldn't see you, I would be in a much better place than I am right now."

"That's the rudest thing anyone has ever said to me! If I were not so manly I would burst into tears. Honestly Potter, do you talk to all the girls like this? No wonder you have a miserable love life."

"Do you ever shut up? I'm ready to bite my tongue and commit honorable suicide over here, and you're going on about my love life? Since when do you care about my love life anyway?"

"You're a hero, you insolent lion. You need to find a damsel in distress and rescue her so that you can complete your little fairy tale. Don't you know how this works? Don't you read at all?"

"I do not live a fairy tale, I'll have you know. You wouldn't want to live my life."

"You're right, I wouldn't. Who can stand to look so utterly ragged all the time? Your clothes are always hanging around, and your face is scrawny and drawn. You walk around like the world is out to get you, all scrunched over and defeated-like. Though, even I have to admit that your eyes match your hair, but even the worst of us can get lucky sometimes."

"The world is out to get me, Malfoy, or haven't you quite noticed?"

"Psh. So you've been hunted down since the day you were born. So you've had more run-ins with the world's most terrifying Dark Wizard than most adult wizards can count on their hands and toes. So the entire fate of our world rests on your weak little shoulders. That doesn't mean you can go around looking like something the werewolf brought in. Honestly, Potter, have you no shame?"

"I have more things to worry about than my appearance."

"I shall choose to ignore that blasphemy, and continue on my lecture. Feel free to etch notes into your arm in the absence of quills and paper."

"I stopped listening at 'your eyes match your hair'. Ow!"

" 'Ow!' is right. Bloody hell Potter, what sort of boots are you wearing? I think I broke a toe!"

"Serves you right for kicking me again."

"I am a Malfoy. I only deserve the best pampering and catering that money can buy! How dare you suggest otherwise. I could have your head for that, in the good old days-"

"I'm wishing for the good old days when we didn't have any elevators around us..."

"-when we used to string offenders up by their toes, listening to them yell and squeal. Some of them were quite ticklish, and that was amusing to watch, undoubtedly. Crying and trying not to laugh at the same time..."

"Ew Malfoy. Your family had some nasty pastimes."

"Oh, I think you would have enjoyed it."

"Doubtful. Very. Doubtful."

"No, no you should come over and- Ow! Bloody hell! Turn that light off! You're hurting my gorgeous eyes!"

"Blimey, there's two of 'em down there! Are you blokes all right?"

"Yes! Now shoo, we're in the middle of an important discussion about medieval torture and hero tactics! Aren't we, Potter?"

"Oh quite, Malfoy."

"See? Now off with you. Come back in a few hours and see if either of us is still standing."