The Perks Of Being A Slytherin

Draco Malfoy had become a pain in the butt.

He hadn’t always been one. No, he was just a smart alec when he was young. 
Full of witty comebacks and sarcasm. Then he became snide, elite in his 
own eyes. Then, only after being snide became as boring as it could 
be, he became a pain in the butt. 

He was not only a pain in the butt, but he was a fully qualified pain in 
the butt. He would insult everyone who made themselves a target, even in 
the slightest sense. He would say rude things and play crude tricks. He 
acted pompous, self-absorbed, and practiced self-worship on a regular basis. 

All in all, Draco Malfoy was not a pleasant person.

In fact, that seemed to be widely acknowledged. The Gryffindors automatically 
hated him anyway, because he was a Slytherin. The Huffelpuffs hated him, 
because, lets just face it, Huffelpuffs are walking, talking bulls-eyes. 
For Malfoy or just for Slytherins in general. Throw insults, throw minor 
hexes, hell, throw rotten vegetables, and you can almost be sure that 
a Huffelpuff is the target. 

Now, Ravenclaws were a different matter all together. No one knew exactly 
why every single Ravenclaw hated Malfoy. Maybe it’s because he always 
scored highest in potions. Maybe it’s because they thought that he was 
too cruel towards the Hufflepuffs. It was probably just because they 
thought he was a jackass. No justification needed there.

Now, you’d think a Slytherin would be proud of this. One of their most 
wealthy and promising classmates had just managed to piss everyone else 
in the school off without even breaking a sweat. But Malfoy had taken 
advantage of his prestige and self-worth. His commanding personality 
had become pretty damned annoying, and, to be frank, his housemates were 
extremely tempted to jump him and give him magic swirlies until he cried. 

What’s even more surprising is that Malfoy actually picked up on this himself. 

“Why does everyone hate me!” He screamed to Crabbe and Goyle angrily one day. 
Crabbe’s Neanderthal features scrunched up into a look of confusion, while 
Goyle simply looked...stupid.

“Um...um...um...” Goyle added helpfully.

“Do you hate me?” Malfoy asked, ignoring Goyle and rounding on the pair.

“Um...” Goyle stated.

“No!” Crabbe said after several minutes of quick thinking.

“Of course we don’t hate you!” Goyle added after Crabbe prompted him 
with a jab to the ribs. 

“We could never hate you!”

“In fact, we love you!” Goyle cried.

“Too much, stupid!” Crabbe hissed urgently, punching Goyle in the face, 
who crumpled to the floor.

Fortunately, Malfoy was too busy basking in his own self-worth to notice 
Goyle’s last remark and the exchange between the pair. 

“All right. Now, I’ve got to go to the library and make Granger look 
like a stupid twit.” He pivoted on his heel and began to walk away when he 
realized that Goyle seemed to be unconscious.

“What happened to him?”

Crabbe paused for a moment, no doubt relying on his quick thinking skills 
to get him out of this spot. 

“It was Harry Potter!” He blurted out. “Potter came up behind him, smacked 
him in the head with a spellbook, flipped him the bird, and left!”

“I bet it was Potter who stole my wallet too! I’m gonna wipe the 
floor with him!” Draco screamed, stomping off. 

“Yeah! You get ‘im, you stupid priss!” Crabbe called after him when he was 
safely out of hearing range. He took Malfoy’s wallet out of his pocket and 
began sorting though the money and various identification cards. 
“Oooh! A credit card! This could be interesting.” His face scrunched up, 
looking at a membership card. “The American Girl’s Club? Isn’t that a muggle 
organization?” He paused, his eyes growing wide. “Isn’t that a club 
for girls? Ha! Malfoy plays with dollies!”

Goyle groaned, sitting up. “What happened?” 

“You ran into my fist again.” 

“Oh. Sorry.”

Crabbe gestured calmly in the direction Draco went. “I’ll give you 
five galleons if you go give Malfoy an atomic wedgie.” 

“Okay!” Goyle cried eagerly, sprinting off to the left.

Crabbe paused for a moment, and gave a satisfied smirk. He wasn’t the 
brightest bulb in the box, but compared to Goyle, he was Einstein. 

Crabbe paused before jogging off to join his ‘friends’. 

He had just betrayed the two people who trusted him most. And he didn’t 
feel at all guilty.

Ah, the perks of being a Slytherin.

The big lug chuckled and skipped off down the hall, where grunts and shrill 
screams of pain filled the air.