Crazy Rich Asians at Hogwarts

14 · 十四

• Competent Men for Fathers •

▪️⬜️▪️

"Well at least you all have living fathers," Blaise mockingly mutters, cutting up his fried chicken with a fork and knife that he must've been very tempted to throw at Draco. He doesn't seem to have yet forgotten the very wild incident on the train, and he certainly has not been giving Draco any less of a hard time.

Draco rolls his eyes and sighs from beside me. "Blaise, I've already apologised for the thousandth time! And besides, your 'Padre' has passed well before you were even out of the womb."

"And that only reminds me of what I lack! Even that bland Potter got to spend a whole year with his parents before they were sent six feet under." Blaise glances at the Gryffindor table to spot the said boy, but he and his best mate were no where to be seen. He turns his attention back to us. "Speaking of your fathers, how are they?"

I snort, poking the roasted chicken breast in my plate with a fork. "Mine certainly seems to have forgotten the existence of his second child."

"Mine's actually starting to show more affection to me." Draco lightly smiles, but pauses and rethinks what he had just said. "...In his own way."

I turn to Daphne, who seems intensely concentrated on consuming the food in her plate in a lady-like way. "Daphne, what about yours?"

"Hm?" She looks up, clueless as to the current topic of our conversation. I should've realised sooner. She must've starved all throughout Summer in the name of her strict mother, hence why she seems to be devouring the food as if it is her last meal.

"How's your Father?" Blaise clarifies the question for her. Being the gentleman he is, he adds even more food onto her plate as he for sure has noticed her behavior as well.

"My Father?" Daphne holds up a hand in front of her mouth to cover her chewing. "Oh, probably out finding paradise on some island with his mistresses."

We hum and nod. Mister Greengrass is an old and unfaithful man to Daphne's Mother, though the glamorous Missus Greengrass could not care less as she has unlimited access to all of his vaults.

Draco switches his attention to our two silent friends who seems even more engaged with the food than Daphne is. "Vince, Greg, how are your fathers?"

Greg looks up from the pork rib he was biting. "Great, they're best mates for life."

Vince grins. "And they buy us treats wherever we go."

"Well didn't they luck out?" I nod and smile. At least some of us have competent men for fathers.

"How is my future star player?" Marcus Flint suddenly appears behind Draco, scaring the shite out of the poor blond boy. "You better've practicing all Summer."

"You bet." Draco grins at the 'vicious bloke' he idolises. Indeed, he had spent most of his Summer practicing Quidditch with the many impressive private coaches his Father had hired for him.

Flint proudly yet roughly pats his back, to which Draco winces in slight pain. He then turns his attention to Blaise, demeanor shifting into a more commanding one. "And I expect you, Zabini, to fight for your spot like you would a war. Make use of your expensive Quidditch gears."

"Yes sir!" Blaise straightens his posture up instantly. Like all of us, he finds intimidating obstacles not as something to quiver up in fear of, but as a challenge to overcome.

Flint smirks and nods approvingly. "Oh, and a little gossip I heard from them Gryffindorks that I think you all would love to know—especially you," He nods to Draco, "apparently, the famous Harry Potter and his Ginger clone of a friend, Weasel, have just recently guaranteed themselves a pathway to expulsion."

Blaise, Daphne, and I were not very reactive to the news as the two Gryffindor boys' wellbeing doesn't concern us. Vince and Greg lightly smirk and cheer in courtesy of their boss, who kisses his cup and joyfully raises it up into air. "Merlin has finally heard my prayers!"

▫️▪️▫️

Merlin, in fact, have not finally heard his prayers.

Whatever the gossip Flint had heard, it certainly did not become true. Or rather, it was supposed to, but they're Gryffindors after all. Something about them flying a car above Muggles in plain sight and an ancient tree getting brutally vandalised.

If it had been any of the other Houses—especially ours—expulsion would not have been the only punishment given.

"Good morning, everyone!" The very cheerful Professor Sprout enters the greenhouse. She informs us that we are to re-pot Mandrakes this class. "Who here can tell me the properties of the Mandrake root?"

The bushy-haired teacher's pet and I raise our hands up at the same time. Sprout doesn't notice me. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

The selected girl proceeds to recite an entire paragraph memorised word-for-word from the official Herbology textbook. Gryffindor is then awarded 10 points in honor of her.

I only roll my eyes but don't say anything snarky. If she were somebody else, I would've applauded her for performing something so simple yet still managing to achieve points for it. My extremely generous thoughts comes to a halt when she has the audacity to raise her chin up and smirk at me.

I haven't even yet engaged in any mischief towards her this year, but if this is how she wishes to play, then we shall.

Sprout then instructs us to yank the Mundrakes out of the pot and dunk them into another. The provided earmuffs doesn't seem to block much of the deafening screeches from the ugly plants.

I discreetly slide my wand out of my sleeve and flick it, causing the Mandrake in Granger's grasp to bite onto her incredibly bushy hair, making her annoying screams match identically with the ugly plants. By the time she yanks the ugly tree off, a massive chunk of her hair had been bitten off and was being chewed by the plant, making us Slytherins snigger at her.

Draco also tries to tickle the tummy of his Mandrake and manages to almost get his finger bitten off.

▪️▫️▪️