A Spark of Propriety

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"Where did you sneak off to?"

"What?"

He and Snape were waiting for the Malfoys outside Ollivanders. Merlin had worried they would have to watch while Draco purchased his wand—he hadn't thought about how to explain why Ollivander didn't recognize him—but they weren't asked to join. And, Snape wanted to talk to him. Or rather, reprimand him. But, when the conversation didn't turn to the incident in Madam Malkin's, Merlin stared.

"I don't—" Merlin started to say, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"Don't play games with me," Snape cut sharply, his lip curling. "Narcissa was just inside Ollivanders and yet she didn't cross paths with you."

Merlin blinked. He must have just missed her when he'd gone into the carpentry shop. "Maybe she just didn't see me in the crowd?" Merlin suggested lightly. "I mean, I didn't do anything except get my wand." He held up his wooden box as if this proved it.

Which he thought it should.

Snape surveyed him for a moment, his black pitiless eyes narrowed as though he were trying to stare right through him. Merlin tried not to fidget or squirm, but it was uncomfortable to be under the scope of such scrutiny. "If I find that you are lying to me," the professor whispered in a voice of deadly calm. "I'll personally make sure the Knight Bus takes you on a tour of London – the kind where you never leave the vehicle and merely jerk from location to location."

Merlin wondered for a second if this was perhaps a poorly executed joke, but Snape's tone said otherwise. What kind of punishment was that? Torture? Merlin swallowed, trying not to think of what this man's idea of detention could possibly entail, and nodded.

"I didn't go anywhere. Just got my wand." He just hadn't gotten it from Ollivanders.

Snape gave him one last long look before finally turning away, apparently satisfied. Merlin managed to stifle a sigh of relief. That'd just probably incriminate him again, and instead looked back toward Ollivanders behind them. How long did it normally take someone to buy a wand? It seemed more complicated than just picking one that looked nice.

"What exactly did you do to Draco in Madam Malkin's?" Merlin turned back to Snape. He wasn't facing him, merely giving him a half-hearted glance before looking straight ahead again. If his eyes weren't deceiving him, Merlin would say that the professor looked amused. "I don't believe I've ever seen such an expression of disbelief on the young Malfoy's face."

"What did he say?" Merlin asked, curious now. He had thought that the professor had asked him to stay out here with him so that he could yell at him for being disrespectful to that clotpole.

"Nothing."

"Huh?" Merlin's mouth fell open.

"Apparently, whatever occurred between the two of you was so tedious that Draco saw no need to relate it. In fact, I've never seen him avoid a topic of conversation so skillfully as he did when I asked what happened." The professor glanced toward him, a single brow rising. "Madam Malkin, on the other hand, employed an expression quite similar to yours."

Merlin closed his mouth. Perhaps Malfoy didn't rely on his father as much as he thought – or, maybe he hadn't wanted to drag Snape into it. Merlin wasn't quite sure what he had done to elicit this type of reaction though. Snape was still looking at him, waiting for a response.

"Well, sir," Merlin began slowly. "I was perfectly polite to Madam Malkin—" Almost too polite, "and I was merely myself to Malfoy."

"I don't think I have to ask what that entails," Snape heaved a sigh, though he still appeared – at least to Merlin – curious. "In any case, I would prefer it if the remainder of our trip passed by with the two of you being at least marginally civil to each other. Do I make myself understood?"

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