Draco was only mildly surprised when he walked into the dining room and saw Nott eating breakfast with Draco's mother.
Bugger, he thought, irritated. He was sick to death of being forced into the company of the other boy. All he'd wanted to do was have a nice normal breakfast but no; he had to put up with Nott. He walked over to the table, nodded at his mother and sat down in his usual seat.
"Nott."
"Malfoy."
Draco turned cool grey eyes on his mother. "Are we expecting Zabini to join us as well?"
She raised her eyebrows at his biting tone. "Your father and Lord Nott are hosting a business breakfast with some of our allies. Our guests will be gone by lunchtime but you will host Theo until then."
"Of course, Mother." Draco replied automatically, noting the words held a steely command. Since the Black family meeting in July his mother had been asserting more and more authority within the house. His father had hardly spent any time with him and instead had deferred to his mother. It was she who had decided Crabbe and Goyle couldn't visit and that Draco should spend time with the spawn of those toadying to Black.
It wasn't fair, Draco thought moodily. And it was all Potter's fault.
His mother placed her napkin on the table and rose from the table gracefully, sweeping out of the dining room without another word.
Draco decided ignoring Nott was the best move and so helped himself to bacon, eggs and sausage. He left the baked beans, tomatoes and mushrooms. Fried bread was added to the plate.
Nott snorted. "You won't stay skinny if you continue to eat like that!"
"I have a fast metabolism like my father." Draco snapped back.
"Your father had a poached egg on a slice of wholemeal toast and a grapefruit." Nott said mildly. "He certainly didn't eat like you!"
Draco glared at him. "You don't understand!"
"I understand that you don't want me here," Nott replied swiftly, "and I understand that I don't want to be here either. Our fathers may be allies but we're not. However, our fathers are allies and they want us to get along so perhaps you could stop being an arse and at least be civil."
"I was being civil," Draco sneered, "you were the one who insulted me!"
"Merlin, Malfoy," Nott said exasperated, "I commented on the amount of fried food on your plate! I didn't call you a prat."
Even if you are one.
Draco heard the unspoken words and glowered at the boy. He threw down his napkin his food almost untouched. "I seem to have lost my appetite."
Nott raised one eyebrow mockingly. "Now you're being a drama queen." He paused. "For the record that was an insult."
Anger surged through Draco. "You should show some respect, Nott, otherwise…"
"Otherwise what?" Nott commented without raising his voice. "You'll run to Daddy?"
Draco scraped his chair back and raised his wand. "You take that back or…"
"How you got into Slytherin I don't know." Nott said calmly, picking up his pumpkin juice and sitting back as though Draco wasn't threatening him at all. "You don't seem to have realised that things have changed, Draco. Your father has just spent every waking hour of the last month convincing the old Black alliance that he still has the power to lead them despite the fact that the basis of his power – that you were the Black heir – has been completely smashed to pieces. He's held on only by virtue of the fact that Lord Black himself has no interest in the old Black alliances except inasmuch as he doesn't want us supporting the Dark Lord, and your father is handy in arranging deals of neutrality with Black."
Draco was speechless at Nott's words but he couldn't deny them.
"And yet," Nott continued, "you want to risk all that by attacking the heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Nott – a House that outranks the House of Malfoy – and with whom you have an alliance of mutual aid and support. And let's not forget, the Ancient and Noble House of Black which retains primacy over your Minor House has a détente alliance with us meaning no raising of wands." He looked insouciantly at Draco. "You want to hex me? Go ahead. I'll be sure to ask Lord Black to use Judgement on you for breaking oath."
Each point Nott scathingly made hit Draco like a bludger. The last though had him paling before flushing with frustrated anger. He had no wish to end up without his magic.
He yanked his wand down and stormed out.
He headed automatically for the music room on the third floor of the Manor. His mother had forced him into piano lessons when he was little but his father had dismissed them when he'd taken more of an interest in Draco's education. Draco had at the time adored his father even more for stopping the torture of practising scales and finger movements. But the music room had the best view in the house; a small balcony looked out onto the beautiful manicured gardens of Malfoy Manor and Draco loved it there. When he was a child he had pretended he was a King, gazing out over his kingdom. He'd stopped pretending, of course, but it was a favourite thinking spot.
Once he reached the balcony, he collapsed into the wrought iron chair and stared out into the thin morning sunlight. He breathed in deeply, the sight and perfume of the gardens settling him as the initial rush of adrenaline that had made him storm out of the dining room subsided. His stomach rumbled.
"Kobly!" Draco called quietly.
The house elf popped in, his large ears twitching. "Yes, Little Master Draco?"
"Bring me a bacon sandwich and a pot of tea." Draco ordered imperiously. He suddenly remembered what Nott had said about his diet and waved a hand. "Oh, and a grapefruit."
Kobly popped away and almost immediately the food appeared on the small wrought iron table beside Draco.
He picked up the sandwich and began eating, methodically and precisely. The act of eating, the scenery and the stillness of the morning finally drained away the last of Draco's anger. Instead he was left with a lingering sense of frustration, irritation and a sense of unfairness.
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