Occlumency - 8

"Kingsley always does what he believes to be the right thing. He tends to forget that he might not be the only one seeing the big picture – or might not be the one with all the facts. Narcissa will always do what suits her best. You'd do well to remember that," Moody said, his magical eye swirling towards the door.

A moment later, Draco Malfoy strolled down the hallway. He smirked when he saw Moody and Harry watching his approach.

"Good, you're both here. My mother asked me to inform you that she won't be able to attend today's lesson," he drawled, sounding bored.

"What do you mean she's unable to attend?" Moody snapped. "What's she doing? Watching her hair grow?"

The color in Malfoy's cheeks heightened slightly, but otherwise he showed no response. "She said she won't be expected to make it a priority if others simply brush it off without a satisfactory explanation. If you people can't give it the respect it is due, she certainly won't either."

"Stupid, stuck-up woman," Moody muttered under his breath.

"Lupin couldn't be here because of a situation with the war," Harry said through gritted teeth. "She does remember there's a war going on, doesn't she?"

"How could she forget?" Malfoy asked, sneering. "It's left us stuck here with you and your merry lot of bunglers."

"Stay here both of you," Moody barked. "I'll go fetch her."

He left both boys on the landing as he stormed up the stairs towards the wing where Narcissa stayed.

"Oh, Mother will love that," Malfoy said, his lip twitching.

Despite his annoyance, Harry felt the corner of his mouth quirk as he envisioned the scene. When he and Malfoy realized how close they were to sharing a laugh, both quickly wiped the smiles from their faces and shoved their hands into their pockets, scowling.

"So, Potter, what's so important about learning Occlumency, anyway? You're obviously not very good at it," Malfoy asked.

Harry shrugged, averting his eyes. "Professor Dumbledore thought it was important. Do you think Moody will get your mother to come down?" Harry asked impatiently. If they weren't going to have an Occlumency lesson, he had other things he'd rather do than stand around chatting with Malfoy.

"Not likely. Mother's in a foul mood," Malfoy replied.

"What's she upset about now?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes.

Malfoy appeared thunderstruck. "What reason could she possibly have to be upset? I don't know, Potter. Maybe those filthy Muggles you call relatives conditioned you to find being locked up acceptable, but I assure you, my mother and I do not," he sneered.

Harry inhaled sharply; it was the first time Malfoy had made any reference to what he'd seen of the Dursleys.

"Why do they hate you so much? I thought you were everyone's golden child," Malfoy asked, his gray eyes puzzled.

"We're not talking about the Dursleys," Harry snapped, feeling slightly unstrung. "We're talking about your mother's diva antics."

"My mother has been confined with your precious Order for months without even being allowed the simplest contact with my father. Her patience is wearing thin," Malfoy shot back.

"I wonder why? It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact your father is a Death Eater and most likely would sell you out to his precious Dark Lord, does it?" Harry asked, scoffing. He was pleased to see Malfoy's color fade slightly.

"My father would never betray my mother," Malfoy said in a low, dangerous voice.

"No? How about you? Would he turn you over to Voldemort, Malfoy? His own son," Harry asked. Malfoy cringed, a myriad of expressions crossing his face.