sixwordstories | (no subject)

Were I being less honest, I would tell you my usual cover, which involves sun drenched yachts on balmy blue oceans and a frankly indecent amount of sex, which is only, oh, sixty, seventy percent true.

No yachts then. Pity.

The Ministry seem oddly reluctant to allow me to spend their money at my own discretion. I really can't think why.

How can you stand that? They should be persuaded.

It's always, "You make four hundred grand a year," and, "We gave you your own department and personal assistant," and, "You do remember your last experiment caused four million galleons worth of damage, yes?"

Show off.

Now, now; I'm sure you can do four million galleons worth of damage if you really try.

You're making fun of me. I don't appreciate it, Blaise and if you keep it up, I won't hesitate to hex you.

Naturally, I don't doubt that I can. But those days are well and truly over.

And the better for it?

No.

Not really.

I'm bored, Blaise. Bored out of my bloody mind.

[:\]

It's nothing to smirk about, Blaise. We don't all appreciate such easy entertainment. Sleeping around. [scoffs] I happen to have standards.

So do I. If it's easy, you're not putting enough effort into it.

I'm not talking about sex with you. Definitely not a proper topic of conversation. You should be ashamed of yourself. Calling yourself a member of the Ministry...

I know! Terrible, isn't it?

It's not fair that the Ministry's punishing me for the things my father did. I'd probably be Minister by now if it wasn't for Potter. Instead, I'm sitting here sorting through letters to the Ministry.

Do you know what's next for me? I get to be an Auror.

I don't want to be an Auror. I want to do bigger things. Better things. Build an empire maybe. Not dirty my hands by catching criminals. It's ridiculous--

Yes.

We should have no masters but our own ambition.

Don't sprout intelligence at me. [:\]

As you wish. Be sure to invite me to the wedding.

Don't. Even. Mention. That.

Do you know what your problem is, Draco?

I wasn't aware there was one.

You're fundamentally unable to realise that your father will never actually respect you; that he will, at best, merely find you adequate, nothing more.

I've always tolerated your presence, Blaise. But at any time you wish to speak of my father or even mention him again, I hope you'll give it a second thought. I don't wish for this friendship of ours to be ruined because you can't keep your opinions and your assumptions about my family to yourself.

Are we clear?

Certainly. ~~Feel free to continue languishing in a job you hate, blaming your personal failures on other people while kowtowing to the perennial source of your weakness; what do I care?~~

Always knew I could count on you to be a decent friend.

And often indecent too.