“Well, well.”
“Shut up, Malfoy.”
“My, my. Fancy seeing you here.”
“Shut up.”
“But I get so little company these days. Absolutely none, in fact. Which brings me back to the main point—what’s a boy like you doing in a neighbourhood like this? Is it some kind of outreach programme?”
“Careful, Malfoy. You sound like a Muggle.”
“Do I.” *soft laughter* “Can’t be having with that, can we?”
*silence*
“You’re… clean. And you haven’t got a beard.”
“Oh, it’s part of the new reforms. We all get soap and water and a razor. So humane. And of course, the suicide rate went through the roof. It’s the sort of thing that makes the tax payers feel all fuzzy and warm inside.”
*grimly* “Hearing about Crabbe and that razor made me feel a little warm, I have to admit.”
*silence*
“Get out.”
”… What?”
“I mean it. This may be a prison cell, but it’s my prison cell. Get the hell out!”
“Don’t you dare take a righteous tone with me. I saw what he did to the Browns!”
“He was obeying orders. He was too stupid to do anything else. He always had to follow somebody. It was his nature, and he was my friend.”
“And I suppose it was your nature, too.”
“Certainly. Law of the jungle. As long as you don’t think it was my stupidity.”
”… I hate you, Malfoy. I always did.”
“And yet you’re here. Why is that, again?”
”… I saw you being arrested.”
“Funnily enough, I caught that too.”
“There were a lot of Death Eaters in there with those children. Some of them killed the children as soon as the Aurors came in. And you—gave the order for the Death Eaters to drop their wands.” *pause* “Why?”
*shrug* “We were nicked. Seemed a bit pointless, really.” *knife-bright smile* “Also, I thought that it would weigh in my favour come sentencing time.”
“You didn’t… Oh. Of course you did.”
“God, Potter, imagining some kind of noble act in me is a bit too stupid, even for you. You never did that at school. Hit by too many Stunning Spells during the war?”
“I didn’t think—I just wondered. The others cursed and fought. You were so quiet.” *uncomfortable shift in the chair* “You seemed almost relieved.”
“You’re naïve, Potter. You always were.”
“Not any more.” *small frown* “Since when do you say ‘nicked,’ anyway? You always used to strut around airing your sophisticated and extensive vocabulary.”
“Don’t take up mimicry as a career.” *pause* “It’s expected of me. I am an old lag, after all. I might as well act the part.” *another pause* “Guv’nor.”
“What?”
“D’you have a cigarette?”
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
“Oh, I don’t. But I think it would be an appropriate habit, don’t you? I could lean against a wall, take a drag, maybe bribe the prison guard with my ciggies.”
“The prison guards are Dementors.”
“Just because they like to suck out souls doesn’t mean that they don’t like to suck in a lungful of joyfully poisonous tobacco.”
“This isn’t a game, Malfoy.”
“I know that. I ran out of spiders to torment weeks ago. I’m off my game, Potter. I’m bored. I want to cultivate a whole new vice.”
*pause* “You’re… not mad.”
“Well spotted.”
“Why not?”
“Well, there are fewer Dementors than before, you know. Your lot killed quite a few of them. Hence, much better conditions for the evil Death Eaters you were fighting against than in the days of yore. Irony’s ironic like that.”
“Even one Dementor… They suck out all your happy thoughts.”
“I know. Quite homey, really.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Doesn’t matter, does it? You just came here to hear talk. It doesn’t matter what I’m saying.”
“You think—I came here for company? I could get better company anywhere!”
“Maybe, maybe not. Not too many of our old schoolmates left, are there? Let me see. Longbottom, dead, Finnigan, dead, Thomas, dead, Weasley, dead… In fact, come to think of it, I don’t think many of the Weasleys are available for comment of late…”
*savagely* “Shut your mouth.”
“What about Granger, now? Oh, that’s sad, she isn’t doing much talking either. Comatose, isn’t she? For six months now. The mediwizards can’t do anything. Doesn’t look good at all…”
“Fucking well shut up!”
“Oh, it feels different now you’re on the receiving end, does it?”
“What’s different, Malfoy, is that we were right and you were wrong, you’re evil, and don’t you dare say their names!”
“You were right and I was wrong. I see. Those are easy words for the winners to throw around. The way I see it, you’re free and I’m not. Paying my debt. It’s all even now. And you came here to talk to me.”
*pause*
“It’s not even. It will never, ever be even.”
“Spare me the wounded hero routine, Potter. You’re already taking up half of my cell, I don’t need any more pain.”
“Taking up…?”
“During visiting hours, bars fall to bisect the cell of prisoners. Can’t have a repeat of the Crouch incident, can we? But nor can we deprive people of their visiting rights. That wouldn’t be quite—quite sporting, would it? There’s another of those delicious ironies.”
*stonily* “What is?”
“You people fought for—oh, what was it that was promised?—a better world. And you had to fight Fudge every inch of the way, and finally forcibly depose him. Now who rules over that bright, shining new world? Camden Fudge, the younger brother. Looks like Dumbledore’s promises didn’t quite work out, doesn’t it?”
“Don’t you dare say his name! Not his.”
“Still loyal, Potter? Even though every day you look around at the dead, look at the shoddy way the world is being patched up, and you think this is what you fought for, for a senile old man’s lies—”
“I fought to stop people like you! Voldemort was cutting a swathe through the world, nobody was safe, and you either had to plunge into the blood and darkness or fight against it, and what you chose was what you are, and you can never change that. Yeah. I’m still loyal, even though there doesn’t seem to be anything left to be loyal to. And you’re still a murderer.” *scrape of a chair* “I’m leaving. And I won’t be back.”
“I didn’t think you would.”