Festina Tempus (Rewrite) -Harry Potter Fanfiction-

Chapter Four : Questions

They landed in a wide corridor covered in portraits from various centuries. Dinky lead them down the corridor. "Misters will be staying in a room guarded by a portrait of a very old vampire that was friends with Mr. Slytherin grandson! It's a very nice room, Dinky made sure it was perfect for Misters!"

"Thank you Dinky," Harry spoke, "is the portrait of Sir Abriam Murcy?"

Dinky looked back at Harry, a wide, watery smile on her face. "Yes Sirs Potter! You are very kind, you do not need to thank Dinky!"

"Do you frequently make friends with portraits, Potter?" Draco asked, looking down at Harry with a raised eyebrow. Harry shrugged.

"They don't get to talk much, so they like to have a conversation once in awhile. They appreciate it a lot," Harry said, picking at the skin around his fingernails. "Just... it's nice to be nice. Not that you'd really care about that, Malfoy."

Draco shrugged. "You're not wrong, Potter. I don't think many people have earned my pleasantries."

Dinky brought them to where the corridor branched off into a large alcove, scarce of paintings except for one. It held an older gentlemen, with a strong posture, hard eyes and an unwelcoming face. Sharp canine teeth poked out of his mouth, his black hair starkly contrasting his pale skin.

"Hello again, Dinky," The portrait greeted, staring at them. "And you two will be staying in my quarters, I presume?"

Harry walked in front of Dinky and Draco, who had stopped a few feet from the portrait. "Hi Sir Murcy. You never told me you were an entrance portrait."

"Why, Hadrian, is that you? What happened to you, boy?" Sir Murcy leaned forward, concerned.

Harry smiled at the concern. "Little accident in potions, is all. I'll be okay."

"Blasted subject. I never liked potions, pointless practice! Always caused too many lost limbs and dead animals! You couldn't even eat them after because they were too ruined by the stupid things!" Sir Murcy exclaimed, "I do hope you fix yourself soon, Hadrian. Stay away from potions, they never did anyone any good!" Sir Murcy crossed his arms, nose in the air. Harry was reminded a bit of Draco at the pose.

"I'll do my best," Harry told him, smiling. The portrait nodded, and looked at Draco.

"And what's this fellow doing here? You look like a no-good Malfoy, always managing to create the nastiest potions. Were you the cause of Hadrian's accident, boy? What is your name?" He spat, red eyes narrowed harshly.

"Draco Malfoy, sir." Draco took a step back, worried about the portrait to his rooms hating him. He'd known him for two minutes and already knew not to put it past him to let Draco spend the night outside because of who he was. Well... that was fine, he supposed. He'd go and sleep in the Slytherin dorms. Without his clothes, or toiletries, and come back to a scolding from Dumbledore.

Great.

Sir Murcy growled. "Of course, you blasted purebloods. Never did any of my kind any good, and I doubt that's changed at all. I'll let you know, you say one blasted word of my blood and you'll never see the light of day again!"

Harry stepped in front of Draco, holding his hands up in a placating motion while Dinky trembled off to the side. "Please, Sir Murcy, I'll make sure he won't say anything bad about vampires. He's nice, the family has really changed the past few centuries! Draco's father now advocates for creatures rights, and had been trying to get vampires a better status in the ministry for years now!" Harry explained hastily. Draco furrowed his eyebrows, but nodded along. Such a thought was preposterous, but if it kept him in a warm bed he would tolerate it.