Mental

/CHAPTER III/ Hating Coco Puffs and Earmuffs

Once in the corridor the boys strutted to the common room with a superior air. Bad boys, bad boys, what ya gonna do, what ya gonna do when they come for you. Bad boys, bad boys.

By the look of things it was still breakfast time. Several patients were seated along the four wooden tables that composed the dining area. Among them Draco only recognized Ernie, Pansy, Potter and Neville. The remaining crazies he’d never seen before.

Zabini and Draco chose a table with only one other occupant; a thickset boy with a flat nose, bristled hair, and sunken eyes. He grunted when they took a seat. Draco ignored the new crazy as his stomach was growling.

At the center of the table rested an assortment of breakfast foods: toast, bagels, fruit, cereals, juices, milk… Draco made a face at the food, silently dubbing it inedible. “This is what they feed us?”

Zabini nodded whilst he squinted at his reflection in a metal spoon. He simultaneously licked the pinky and pointer finger of his free hand and smoothed his eyebrows.

“There is no way in hell I’m eating…” Draco stopped mid sentence eyes wide. He had spotted treasure among the unpalatable mass of hospital food. Lucky charms, hells yea bitch!

He seized the box of cereal. There is a god. “Cup me.” Zabini set down his spoon and placed a styrofoam cup in Draco’s hand like a nurse assisting a surgeon. Carefully Draco opened the box and tipped it over, nothing came out. He shook it…still nothing. He looked in the box practically sticking his head inside. Foiled again!

Furious, Draco launched the empty box across the room. It hit Ernie in the back of the head, who subsequently stood up and sat down five times.

Blast that leprechaun and his marshmallowy goodness.

“There’s coco puffs.” Zabini offered.

“Fuck coco puffs.”

The thickset boy at the table turned to Draco and stared at him dumbly.

“Hello-o,” the blond waved his hand in front of the guy’s face, “earth to asshole with the staring problem.” He threw his styrofoam cup at the crazy. It bounced off. The boy didn’t move. “Why’s he staring at me?” asked Draco of Zabini.

“That’s what he does. Not the brightest chap.”

Exactly two minutes later the crazy touched the spot on his forehead where Draco had hit him with the cup. “Ouch! That hurt.”

“Does he have some kind of reaction slash timing disorder? Is that why he’s in here?”

“No, he’s just dumb.” Shrugged Zabini. “Actually he’s got a dissociative identity disorder. Watch this. Hey, Crabbe.” The crazy didn’t respond. Zabini tried another name. “Goyle?”

The boy answered this time. “What?”

“Lucky charms or coco puffs?”

“Lucky charms.” Good man, good man.

Zabini waited a moment. “Hey Crabbe.”

The boy changed his facial expression slightly. “What?”

“Lucky charms or coco puffs?”

“Um…definitely, coco puffs.”

Draco looked at the boy who assumed two different identities and then spoke. “What’s that feeling?” He asked sarcastically. “Oh right, it’s what you feel like when you don’t give a shit.” With that being said he returned to his food dilemma. “If I can’t have lucky charms there at least has to be coffee somewhere.”

“They won’t give us coffee. Besides, coffee stains your teeth and gives you wrinkles.” Zabini shuddered violently.

No coffee! Then Draco remembered Creevey and thought this was best.

Since the moment Draco sat down Pansy Parkinson had been stealing obvious glances at him. Oh, man. She’s staring at me again. Draco, realizing this, decided to shake the psycho off by flirting with another girl. He stood up and simply brushed his hair out of his eyes in the direction of a girl two tables over with large dark eyes and long black hair.

The girl blushed madly. Zabini looked at Draco impressed. Draco shrugged. “I’ve got mad skills.” He blow on his hand and rubbed his chest characteristically. Chickies dig the Dracie.

Jealous, Pansy abandoned her pervious seat to sit next to Draco.

“Can I help you?” asked Draco covering his face. Please don’t slap me, please don’t slap me. Pansy took hold of his hands and lowered them from his face passionately.

“It’s okay Draco.” She comforted. “We don’t have to hide our love anymore.” She hooked herself to his lower torso and attempted to kiss him. Bitch is crazy. He fought against her needy hands and pursed lips. Pansy clung tighter. “I’ve told every one we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.” Say what.

He reached out and grabbed the box of Coco Puffs. “Get away from me WOMAN!” He started beating her with the cereal box in an attempt to remove her from his waist.

Pansy struggled to maintain her grip and argued her point. “We…”

Smack.

“...belong…”

Smack.

“…together!”

Smack. The top of the cereal box popped open and coco puffs flew everywhere. Draco tossed his broken weapon aside, grabbed Pansy by the shoulders and shook her.

“WOMAN! Get a hold of yourself!” He slapped her across the face like a silent movie actor. Payback’s a Bitch. Pansy slipped out of Draco’s hands and pretended to faint slumping over on the table.

After several minutes of Draco’s neglect she sat up. “Why aren’t you helping me, I’m your girlfriend?”

“I’m sorry I don’t date dogs, or people who look like them.”

Pansy began to cry and then ran from the room shouting dramatically. “I never loved you anyway.”

Freed Draco turned to Zabini who was combing his hair meticulously with a fork. “Does she always run from the room like that?”

“Pretty much.” Draco accepted this and moved on.

“Man I’m hungry.” He rubbed his stomach.

“Suck it up and eat the coco puffs.”

“NO! I will not suck-it-up!” He looked at Zabini with disgust. “Coco puffs don’t come in amusing little shapes. I’m talking hearts, stars, horse shoes, clovers, and blue moons, pots of gold and rainbows, and…” He paused for dramatic affect. “…the red balloon. Coco puffs...they’re just chocolaty balls, Bini.”

Zabini lowered the fork and shook his head in agreement. “True dat, true dat.”

“Furthermore, coco puffs are not magically delicious!”

“Magic!” Harry Potter, who had been talking to a dreamy eyed girl with long, blond hair three tables over, stood up and pulled out his stick. Fuck. Luckily, at precisely that moment a loud banging captured everyone’s attention, including nurse Pomfrey who emerged from the girl’s corridor with her metal tray.

The sound was clearly coming from the boy’s corridor. Everyone ran to the mouth of the boy’s corridor to see what was going on. It’s a crazy stampede. On the other hand, Zabini and Draco coolly proceeded to the entrance pushing to the front of the crowd when they arrived.

In the corridor stood a solitary figure. It was a girl knocking agitatedly on one of the boy’s doors. However, it wasn’t just any girl it was…Book girl.

“Ronald, open this door right now.” the brunette demanded. It was the same girl from earlier that morning. She still carried the same book.

Seconds later a tall, gangly boy with fiery red hair emerged into the hallway. “What’s wrong with you?” was the first thing out of his mouth.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” She was clearly upset.

Draco, Zabini, as well as all the other crazies decided to watch the ensuing chaos. Well actually Zabini began to play with his hair, but Draco was interested. Fight, fight, fight, fight…

“How could you?” She got right up in his face. “How is it that you always manage to ruin everything? Just leave me alone, Ron.” The girl had hit a nerve. The red head launched into a fit of blind rage.

“What did I ruin, Hermione? Huh, what was it? I saved you!”

She raised her voice to match his. “Saved me from what?”

“He was only using you!” He gestured violently desperate for her to understand.

“And you don’t?” She threw her book at the red head. It hit him square in the face and fell to the floor. Nice shot.

Hurt, he put a hand to his rapidly reddening face. “That’s different and you know it!”

The brunette didn’t yell anymore opting instead to speak plainly. “I don’t care if he was using me…” her voice broke, “I was happy.”

“You’re never happy, Hermione!” Oh, snap. His words were loud, direct, and harsh. Silence followed. The statement was clearly fact.

Having realized the affect of his words and the crowd of people, the red head lowered his voice to just above a whisper. He shook his head unbelieving. “You weren’t happy.” He said it more to himself then to her as if his life depended on him being right.

He lifted his blue eyes to her. She looked directly at him.

“You’re not worth it.” The words fell from her lips.

Next thing Draco knew, the red head disappeared from the corridor slamming a door in her face. The girl stood there, just stood there. She wasn’t crying…she wasn’t anything...she just occupied space.

Then without warning she made to leave the corridor heading straight for the throng of gathered people. The crowd parted. The girl rushed passed Draco bumping into his upper arm. He locked eyes with her briefly as she looked up to see who she’d hit. It lasted for only a moment then she returned her gaze to the ground leaving him with no choice but to stare.

He watched her progress and saw Potter rush after her. Draco shifted uncomfortably. She was long gone and the crowd had dissipated by the time he found his voice. “Who was that girl?” Zabini and him were the only one’s left in the corridor.

“What?” Zabini was distractedly playing with his hair, adding volume by bending over and flipping back his hair on the journey upward.

“The girl, who was she.”

“Oh, her. Hermione Granger.”

“And what was that all about?”

“Who cares about people as unattractive as them when we can talk about me?”

“We’ll, talk about you in a second, but first, Granger.”

Zabini looked put out but gave into Draco’s request. “Recently we had interns here from different parts of the world. This Bulgarian, right, he has this thing for Granger but it’s no good cause he’s a doctor. So, Ron Weasley goes into one of his epic mood swings and informs practically everyone. Needless to say, intern Krum as well as the rest of the interns were asked to leave the hospital. They left yesterday. But, who really gives a shit. There was this one intern from France…”

“What did you say the guy’s name was?” Draco interrupted.

“Ron Weasley.”

“You’re kidding.” Something had dawned on Draco. “His dad works for my father. I knew the father was bonkers but his son.”

“More then just his son. Ron has two other brother’s who are in here as well. His brother Charley is on the fifth floor. He’s schizophrenic like the Potter kid, sees dragons or something. His brother Percy used to be in this ward but was released. I think they said he works at McDonalds now.”

“Seriously?”

“Why else do you think Fed and George Weasley took jobs here? Their brother Bill also works here. Guess they feel obligated to help considering most of their family is nuts.” Talk about keepin’ it in the family.

Before Draco could enquire any further someone tapped on his shoulder. “Mr. Malfoy.” Draco turned around to see who was touching him. He jumped…it was Mrs. McGonagall. Nasty. “You’re late. You had an appointment at eleven with Dr. Sprout. Do we need to assign you a personal attendant?”

Draco didn’t respond. The secretary sighed heavily then grabbed him by the ear and forced him from the corridor. Zabini gave Draco a solute in the form of a hair flip as he was dragged away.

Draco soon found himself in the numbered hallway. He watched Mrs. McGonagall head back to her reception office and pulled open the door marked five. He stepped into a small office. At first glance he thought he was in the wrong place, for the space was primarily dominated with a hefty number of plants.

From the ceiling alone hung a variety of wild flowers; mostly yellow in color. Straight ahead along the sill of a square window a row of cactuses balanced. To the right a couch was dwarfed by two potted palm trees that rested on either side. To the left was a desk topped with petit ferns and aloe plants. A floral rug covered the floor.

A plump woman spun around behind the desk upon hearing Draco enter. From her attire Draco could have mistaken her for another plant. She set a watering can down on the desk. “Hello, I’m Dr. Sprout it’s nice to meet you Draco. Go ahead and take a seat on the couch.” Draco moved into the room and plopped down on the couch. The doctor gave him a quick smile. Don’t smile at me your clearly evil.

“In here you should feel free to say whatever you want. In here it’s just you and me. We just ignore all outside influences. I like to think of it like putting earmuffs on. You just tune out the rest of the world.”

She balled her hands and made the motion of putting pretend earmuffs on, cupping her ears animatedly. Whack job. She watched Draco expecting him to follow suit. “Go ahead put your earmuffs on.”

“No.” He blinked.

“Come now, put them on.”

“Uh…no,” he cleared his throat. “No, I’m good.”

“Oh, come on.”

“No, I’m fine thanks.”

“Do it.” Her voice had turned commanding.

“No.” This is feakin’ ridiculous.

She looked at him sharply. “Earmuffs on.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“Just put the earmuffs on.” She mimicked putting earmuffs on again.

Draco’s reply came in the form of shouting. “I DON’T WANT TO PUT THE STUPID EARMUFFS ON!”

The doctor gave him a rough smile teaming with rudeness. “Very well.” Dr. Sprout was clearly miffed. Let the games begin.

The doctor fished a chart from out of her desk. “So, let’s start with why you think you’re here.” Draco said nothing. “Okay,” she changed the question, “tell me about yourself.”

“I am Batman.”

The doctor looked taken aback. She glanced at his chart confused. “Since when?”

“Since I fell down a well and had a fling with a bat.” said Draco boldly.

“Well…If your batman whose your sidekick?” The doctor decided to play along.

“Superman because he sucks and no one else will play with him.”

“Your nickname?”

“I’m also referred to as Earmuff Man.” Chew on that tasty piece of information lard-ass.

“What’s your secret identity?”

“I’m not at liberty to reveal that. Especially to dikes like you.”

Go ahead ask another question. I dare you.

The doctor had experience with difficult patients. She changed the subject. “It says here,” she looked at the chart, “you wouldn’t take your medication this morning.”

“Nope, I only take drugs when they’re illegal.” He was determined to make their meeting as horrible for her as it was annoying for him.

“From now on you will be taking the medication prescribed by your doctors. The blue pill will calm you, and the red pill, hopefully, will correct a chemical imbalance.”

She had crossed the line. “I do not have a chemical imbalance.”

“Yes you do.”

“No I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“Yes.”

“No.” The doctor realized what he was doing and composed herself.

“The medication is for your benefit it will…”

“Am I on Punk’d? Is that what this is all about?” He looked at her for conformation. “That has to be the only explanation.” He got up from the couch and began to search the room. “You can come out now Ashton…” He peeked behind one of the palm trees. “…I may even let you touch me.” He dropped to the ground and lifted up the corner of the floral rug. “Come out, come out where ever you are.”

“Do you think this is a joke?”

“Yes. Because me,” he let the rug fall to the ground with a plop, “being in an insane asylum is pointless.”

“Why is it pointless?” I swear to god if she asks one more question…

He stood and began yelling. “It’s pointless because I’m not crazy! My father did this too me!”

“Why are you yelling?”

He threw his hands up in frustration and paced the room. “Because I’m angry!” Dumbass.

“So, you’re angry at your father.”

The blond stepped forward and slammed his hands down on the desk. Dr. Sprout jumped in shock. “No, I’m angry at you.”

“Me, why me?”

Draco, keeping his hands firmly planted on the desk, stared deeply at the women. “Cause honestly from what I have seen over the past few minutes I think it’s safe to assume that you’re a hypercritical bitch.” He delivered his words like a psychiatrist. Mocking her with all the disrespect he could muster. “Who, judging by your weird obsession with plants, has never been laid properly in her entire life. Which is most likely due to the fact that when you were young your parents used the analogy of ‘watering a garden’ to elucidate the concept of sex.”

Earmuff that bitch.

He picked up his hands from the desk, took a step back, and continued his rant. “Frankly, I think it’s safe to say that you’re the one who should be seeking psychiatric help not me.”

The discomfort that dominated Dr. Sprout’s features only proved he was right. The doctor opened her mouth to reply.

“I haven’t finished.” He cut her off savagely. “And you’re ugly.” He settled himself back down on the couch definitively and yawned as though bored. “Now I’m done.” His gray eyes flashed as a smirk settled across his face. I win.

The doctor just sat at her desk entirely shaken. She put her plump little hands to her temples then folded them neatly on her desk.

“Do you care about anyone?”

Duh…

“Myself.” answered the callous blond. He stared at her in cold confusion. He didn’t know what she was getting at. He’d just crushed her.

She closed her eyes momentarily and then asked the question of him again. “Is there anyone you care about?”

He touched his upper arm briefly. A pair of brown eyes flashed through his mind.

“No.”

He hadn’t won after all.