Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Awake, are you? That was quite a dramatic faint you accomplished. Well done."

She sat up, hugging her arms to herself, and shivered. "What are you doing 'ere, Draco?"

"I was told this was my room."

"This is my room."

He grinned, a narrow grin like a knife blade. "Apparently we´re meant to share. Isn´t that sweet? I would have registered a complaint about the rooming situation, but I was too busy trying not to be killed by Dead Guy to get to it."

"Don´t call him that."

Draco swung a leg up over the arm of the chair and leaned back.

The torchlight struck bright sparks off his silver hair. "I´ll call him what I like." He slid his eyes sideways, past her, and he grinned unpleasantly. "Isn´t that right?"

Fleur glanced where his gaze had gone, and saw, without surprise, one of the gray-robed servants of Slytherin standing in the corner of the room, silent, face hidden by his hood. They were always there, these servants, she had stopped noticing their presence.

Draco suddenly leaped out of his chair, a beautiful forward spring that took him to his feet and across the room within seconds. She had always admired how graceful he was, reminding her of some of her veela cousins who seemed to float rather than walking.

He approached the gray-robed servant, and cleared his throat.

The servant looked up at him, his face still hidden in thick shadow under the folds of the robe, and said nothing.

"What are you?" asked Draco, with catlike curiosity. He ducked his head, trying to see under the hood. "Vampire? Shapeshifter? Sad little pathetic werewolf?" It raised its head, and this time its hood slid back and Fleur caught an unpleasant glimpse of scaly white skin and large pinkish-red eyes. It was looking at Draco apprehensively.

"Aha. Nasty creature, unknown origin. There seem to be a lot of you around these parts. Did you get Called here?" The creature was silent. "I implore you to share…no?" Draco took a few steps back, his look of consideration taking on a murderous edge. "Fine. Then get out."

The servant didn´t move.

"I said get out," said Draco haughtily, all his years of having house-elves doting on his every whim rising up and spilling into his voice.

"I´m the Heir of Slytherin, you know. I will command the armies of the Snake Lord. It might be wise to stay on my good side."

"Masster…" it began in a rather unappealing hissy voice.

"Thatś the spirit." Draco looked approving. "Now get out of here.

Go run me an errand. Get me a Mai Tai."

The creature looked bewildered. "A Mai Tai?"

Draco nodded energetically. "A Mai Tai. With an umbrella. And don´t come back until you´ve got one. I don´t care if you have to go to London for it. I´m the Heir of Slytherin and my whims must be served." He reached out and jerked the door open, ushering the creature out with a wave of his free hand. It went slowly, looking very dubious. "Thatś right. Trot along now," said Draco, closing the door after its retreating back. Then he paused, and glanced back around the side of the door. "Don´t forget the umbrella!" he howled. "And make sure itś a green umbrella!"

He slammed the door and turned back to Fleur. "Should I have ordered a drink for you? I could have, but you don´t deserve it.

Still, we´re alone at last," and the look he gave her was unpleasantly speculative. "Aren´t we?"

"You´re never really alone, not here." Her heart was beating painfully fast. She took a deep breath, and it slowed slightly.

"Draco.."

"What?" He was leaning against the doorframe, looking at her. His expression was not pleasant.

"Were you serious about being the commander of his armies?"

Draco shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "So he said, right after you passed out, so I guess you don´t remember. According to the prophecy, he and I are destined to rule the world together. I get to be a general with a neat little uniform. Otherwise known as Chief Guy In Charge of Executing People Slytherin Doesn´t Like the Face Of. Although I hope he doesn´t expect me to wear gray out of season."

"What else happened?" she said in a small voice. "After I fainted? He stabbed the manticore…"

"He cut it open," said Draco flatly. He unfolded his arms and went back to the armchair, throwing himself into it. "He cut it open and he took something out of its guts. And then he had his servants come and bring us back here. They carried you…wait a second," he added, his expression darkening, "shouldn´t I be the one asking you questions? Am I supposed to believe that you don´t know whatś going on?" He shook his head, leaning back. "I don´t owe you any information."

Slowly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and tested them.

They seemed to hold her. She got to her feet and went over to Draco and knelt down by the side of his chair. He seemed startled by her sudden proximity, but he didn´t move away. There was a sort of wary stillness about him, a murderous calm that might have unsettled her under other circumstances, but she was too frightened by their situation to feel it. "I didn´t know!" The words spilled from her lips before she could stop them. It had suddenly because monumentally important to her that he know the truth. "I didn´t know — he told me he wanted you two to kill the monster, that is all, he never said anything about further plans, he never talked about Harry-"

"I don´t believe you," snarled Draco. "I bet he told you exactly what was going to happen-"

"No! I didn´t-"

"And you dragged us through that maze and then you left us there with that manticore to die." His voice came out on an explosive hiss, his gray eyes blazing with fury.

"No-I didn´t know what kind of monster was in there, I swear it."

"But you knew it was a monster, didn´t you? And I´m sure you´re telling the truth. Wait a minute, no you aren´t. Because you´re a lying bitch and you´d sell me for parts in Knockturn Alley if you could get enough Galleons for it."

Fleur resisted the urge to tell him that she suspected she´d get more Galleons for some of his parts than others.

Instead, she said, "It wasn´t for me that I did what I did. It was for my little sister, for Gabrielle-"

"I don´t want to hear any more of your lies," he snapped, cutting her off. "Give me useful information or get away from me. Itś your choice."

Remotely, she wondered why she didn´t want to slap his face. Was it because she was so tired, so tired she could barely stay upright? Or because she felt a need to do something, anything to expunge the memory of the look on Harryś face when the guards had surrounded him…

Useful information? She glanced up quickly at Draco. His face was thrown into shadow, the firelight glittering off the chain of the Epicyclical Charm so brightly that it seemed to burn at the hollow of his throat. "Draco, you must prepare yourself. He will come back for you soon, and then it will be…difficult."

"Difficult?"

"He will test you. Your strength. He will show you things…awful things, things you can´t imagine."

"I can imagine some pretty bad things." Draco accomplished a one-shouldered shrug. "Come on, I´ve seen Severus Snapeś pajamas.

Nothing can terrify me."

Without thinking, she reached out and seized his wrist. "I´m serious."

"So am I." There was a feverish malicious amusement in his silver-black eyes as he looked at her. "Those pajamas, they had little hearts on them. It was horrible."

"These things are worse. They are so bad you could die from them."

Draco didn´t reply for a moment. Hen he leaned forward, so close she could feel his breath stirring her hair, and said evenly, "What do you care if I die?"

"I do care-"

"No you don´t." His voice was calm, his eyes on her speculative.