Feedback: Worshipped and craved. PLEASE!
Disclaimer: Is there any cross-dressing in Harry Potter? No? Then I still donít own it.
Notes: I think I'm the first person to ever write dialogue between Crabbe and Goyle. O.o;;; It was really, really FUN!
Part Two of the "M" Series
By Kick Flaw
Crabbe is up to something.
And don't think I can't tell. I saw him grinning when Draco tripped all over Potter in Potions. I have a feeling it was his doing. Crabbe doesn't grin often, at least outside of the Slytherin Hall, and when he does it's always got to do with some mischief or another.
I have to figure it out. Curiosity: it kills me. Besides, with Draco locked up with Snape all throughout dinner and -knowing our house leader- later, I won't have anything fun to do other than torment Crabbe about it. His neck gets really purple if you pester him enough. It's really funny.
Obviously it has to do with Draco. Almost everything we do is tied somehow to him. And it has to be important enough for Crabbe to feel secure in compromising his sometimes-nauseating respect for the blonde. I hope he doesn't like Draco like * that *. That's just be...ugh. I don't have a problem with homosexuality, homophobia's a purely muggle thing, but Draco and Crabbe? They're all wrong aesthetically. Pairing Pretty and Petite with Large and Clumsy is bad in any sense.
Heh; that's so like me. Aesthetics. It's always about aesthetics. That's why Crabbe and I match each other so well. He tells me what he sees in people, those strangely fitting and obscure traits that define them, and I put them down on paper with a skill I'm fairly justified in bragging about. Alone, we're simply good. Together, we're great. Together, we can create a masterpiece.
It's funny. People can seem so perfect on their own, as individuals. People can * be * perfect as individuals. But if you find the right match, the right two to put together, that perfection is nothing compared to what comes of it. That's the realm of the masterpiece: A place where nothing but the essence exists.
In my mind, there's a single, driving idea behind every soul. Everything else is circumstance, like fat on the true form of a body. When you sleek away the extra, you come down to an unchangeable, permanent truth. The core. Soulmates are the ones that find, underneath it all, that they are made from the same idea.
And, coming together, they are a masterpiece.
Harry Potter awes me that way. He is the closest thing I've ever seen to a true core. Of course, he still has his extras, his fats, but compared to the rest of us average beings he's far and above. Secure on a pinnacle of truth that we can only hope to achieve. That's why people flock to him. Or lock him away. With Potter, there can only be those two extremes.
One soul that's near to reaching it's idea. God, he's beautiful. I wonder what a masterpiece he would make if he ever found his match. Beyond words.
But that's irrelevant. Back to Crabbe and Draco...
Oh. Ohh...I see. I get it. Of course he doesn't like Draco! He's been hell- bent on the idea that Draco fancies Potter. Ha! So he's given up on them figuring it out for themselves, and resorted to underhanded trickery in forcing it out of them. I'm not surprised.
He might succeed with Draco. Draco isn't blind -if you put the picture close enough to his face, he'll see it whether he wants to or not. Better yet, he's not the type to go all depressive and ashamed.
But Potter... Potter is like a different species to us, what with his blaring truth. He's not something we understand or comprehend. There's a will in Potter, one so strong it's reflected in his appearance. Piercing eyes, not dark and intense but clear --the kind that'll cut you to the bone. Mouth that's a little on the thin side, firm and fearless nevertheless. Square face, high forehead, dark hair that never falls the way it should and gives him a permanent 'I just won a battle with life' look. His movements are efficient and full of capability. No fluid, extra motions for the sake of aesthetics. When I see him, I see the unconscious force and concentration of a jungle cat stalking prey.
I want to draw him.
I sense charcoals for the medium. Maybe a touch of oil crayons here or there, but overall a smeared grayscale portrait with sketchy lines and no linear certainty. Much like Potter himself, indeterminable. It'll be a masterpiece.
Come to think of it, my portrait of Draco is done the same way. Next period I think I'll go down to the dorms and get to work on this. No, I don't think I'll do a separate picture just for Potter. I think I'm going to add him into my image of Draco. I knew it looked incomplete.
There's Crabbe now, running late from extra lessons with Professor Flitwick I'm sure.
"Hey, Goyle. Hey, Draco. Sorry 'bout the whole detention thing."
Draco glances up from his 'engrossing' Herbology homework, his expression less than happy. "Please don't remind me."
"Well, at least you won't be alone with Snape. Potter will be there."
Draco narrows his eyes. "And you think that's a * good * thing? If I were alone, Snape would let me off with a reprimand or two. But now that Potter's involved, I'm going to be stuck up there for hours while he finds some way to torment him. Such a sadistic man."
"Hey, you make sound like you actually care about the boy."
"What? Are you mad?" Draco sputters looking like he's just been handed the highest social insult. "Care about Potter?"
"I dunno." Crabbe shrugs, plopping down next to me. "Sometimes I wonder..."
Snorting indignantly, Draco doesn't deign to answer, instead returning to his homework.
Oh, that was smooth. If I know our favorite blonde he's going to mull over that for, oh, say, forever? If he doesn't figure it out I mean. But he will. And it only took a minute of conversation!
"Hey Crabber, got something to tell me about?"
Crabbe knows exactly what I mean. He also knows that I already know most of it. We can be creepy that way.
"Oi, it was split-second. I didn't have time to tell ya."
I nod, and together we dig into lunch, wolfing it down in no time. Across the table, Draco has broken his concentration on homework and is watching with tolerant disgust. He never could teach us those elite table manners he holds in such high regard. But then, we never could teach him that eating was more than just fueling the body. He doesn't grasp the pleasure of it. Poor kid.
With a shake of his head that sends licks of platinum hair flying, he resumes note taking. Really, we need to get him in on a few pranks again sometime soon. It's no fun without him.
"What d'ya have planned?"
"Ah, nothing big. A little push. I'll tell ya more during dinner."
"You, Crabbe, not ya, you. What are you two talking about?"
"A prank. Shut up, Draco."
"Not bloody likely. Not until you can speak English as more than a second language to grunting. How are you ever going to pronounce your spells right with affectation like that?"
I snort. We laugh. Contrary to popular belief, a Slytherin does have a sense of humour. I'm quite fond of Monty Python myself.
Draco flicks his quill at Crabbe, leaving him spattered randomly with black ink. Hey, I didn't know he could cross his eyes and twitch his nose at the same time! Cool!
I can barely wait for dinner. This is going to be a masterpiece. I just know it. I can feel it in my palms. In the shivery tremble that's creeping up my spine. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are going to be a masterpiece.
How could it not be, with Crabbe and I doing it together?
* * *
As usual, reviews are printed out and taped on to the inside of my binders to keep me sane and happy in class. Not that sane people write fanfiction...heh...^^;;
Return to Archive | previous | next