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Author's Note:?
I kicked the door open with my foot and walked in. My back hurt, my legs were sour and my pants were covered in snow. Also, my hair was a mess. I fumbled with my textbooks as I tried to close the door but just ended up dumping them all on the floor. Grumbling to my self I picked them up and headed to the kitchen for a snake.
I could smell onions frying in a pan and gave a happy sigh. After dumping my book-bag and the sofa I opened the 'fringe.
"How was your day at school?" I glanced up to see my Pop by the stove.
"Good I guess." I said before shrugging. I could see his frown and new I had given the wrong answer but my Pop just went back to the onions.
"You know it's cocoa night." It wasn't a question. Every Thursday night was cocoa night ever since first grade when some sixth grader beat me up. Me and Pop, and sometimes Dad, would sit down with hot-cocoa and we would discus the week. Well I would get interrogated for information about school. Now that I think about it cocoa night happens more than once a week. It's more like when ever my Pop can tell something happened.
"I remember." I say before going back to the 'fridge. Pop can tell just by the way you answer his 'How was you day' if something is going on. My Dad says he gets it from my grandmother. She's the type that doesn't take one word answers on the phone.
"Your father said he wont be home till late. Said he has something to do at the office." Pop looks kinda put out about this Dad's been coming home later and later these days. My Dad's like a cop or something I don't really know what he does. He never talks about it. My Pop is a doctor or he use to be before he got diagnosed with epilepsy. All the other doctors would look at him like he was going to contaminate their patents. So Pop opened his own private clinic at home. It's been doing good so far.
"Ah ha!" I gave a cry in triumph as I found a piece of cake in the back of the 'fridge from my birth day. I haven't talked about my self much now have I? Well I'm tall (seeing how I'm my Dad's boy and all) I've got dark hair but grey eyes like my Pop. Which is odd because my Dad didn't know my Pop before I was even born. And ...well...that their both men. I'm kinda lanky for my age. Pop says that I'll fill out before my next birthday when I'll be turning seventeen. I was born in 1992. Pop would have been eleven when I was born and I don't know haw old Dad is but he's older that Pop I'm shore! I was about to pick up the cake and eat it with my hands when Pop hit me on the head with the spoon.
"Ow!" I yelped and went to grab a fork when he hit me again.
"Ow! What was that for?" I glared.
"The first one was for using your hands. The second time was for trying to eat a piece of cake for a snake." Pop said with his arms crossed over his chest and one perfectly, plucked, eyebrow raised.
"Yes Mother." I said with a snap.
"And don't you forget it! Now don't you have homework to do?" I sighed and graded a granola bar from one of the cabinets before heading up stairs with my books.
About half an hour later Pop called for me to come down for dinner. Near the end of my French onion soup the front door slammed open before banging shut.
"Draco!" Dad was home. Pop's not one to get mad, he only gets disappointed. But Dad? That's a hole different story. When he gets pissed it's best just to stay out of the way and hope he doesn't see you. I sow Pop stiffen before answering.
"Yes Harry?" He said sheepishly.
"Get to the bedroom! We need to talk!" Pop got up quickly and rinsed his dishes and than headed up the stairs. I sow Dad stomp into the kitchen and hoped he didn't see me. I wasn't so lucky. As soon as he walked in his head snapped in my direction.
"Don't you have homework to do?" He yelled.
"I finished most of it, but than it was dinner." I knew my eyes must have been the size of saucers.
"Well hurry up!" And he stomped off. I finished up my soup and headed up stairs to eavesdrop by Dad and Pop's bedroom door.
"-could you not tell me?" I knew that was Dad. I herd a quiet sniff and knew Pop was crying. Pop's response was muffled. There was more yelling but the floor boards are creaky and I don't want to risk being herd just so I could know what they were saying.
It continued for a few minutes before a loud smack rang thru the air. I took a step back in shock. It was dead silent for what felt like hours. I herd Dad start to talk.
"Draco? I'm so sorry baby. Please look at me." His voice was soft and pleading. I knew someone was reaching for the door so I ran down stairs and turned the TV on. I herd the door bang open was I dove on the sofa. Close call. I sow Pop run down the stair and grab his coat before running outside. He always says goodbye to me when he leaves but this time he didn't even glance my way.
Dad ran in running his hand through his hair. I guess I get it from him. Dad plops down beside me on the sofa.
"He left didn't he?" My Dad turned his head toward me. His eyes were red around the rims. Dad and Pop don't believe in corporal punishment. Pop says it's because Dad had a hard time when he was a kid. Dad doesn't even speak to his relatives any more so I was shocked that Dad hit Pop. I nod my head at Dad's question. He turns away before turning back.
"Did he tack his medication?" I shook my head and Dad leaned forward to put his head in his hands.
"How much did you hear?" He whispered. I pulled my knees to my chest.
"Enough to know why he ran." Dad looked away from me and sow the cocoa sitting on the kitchen counter.
"God, it was cocoa night? I'm sorry. I know how much it means to you two. I'm so sorry." Dad thru an arm over his face. I bit my lip.
"What are you going to tell grandfather?" My Dad shot up like a spring.
"Shit! We were going to his place tonight weren't we! Dame! I'll just tell his we can't come over. Family matters and all. Do you think he will believe me?" I knew he was trying to lighten the mood. I shook my head.
" He doesn't even like you!" He chuckled.
"Ya your probably right. You should have seen him when I was dating your Pop." He gave a laugh before the room got that awkward silence. I took a deep breath.
"Why-why did you...hit Poppa?" I almost never called Pop that unless I was completely scared. Dad ran his hand thru his hair again.
"When we were yelling...when I was yelling. Your Poppa said somethings that I didn't want to hear. Things I prayed that weren't true. I just wanted it to stop. I wanted to stop it were ever it was coming from...and I just..." He trailed off and I knew if I pushed him to much he would crumple.
"I still love you." My Dad wasn't one for warm, fuzzy, moments. That was all Pop.
"And I you."
"Pop still loves you. He just got scared." Dad snorted.
"Like I gave his a reason not to. I hit him! In his state, I could of-" He cut himself off at the last second and I was shore he was hiding something.
We sat there in silence for a long time until I had trouble keeping my eyes open. I was about to fall asleep when the front door opened slowly. Dad jumped up and I headed after him. Pop stood at the doorway sniffing. Dad ran forward and scooped him up as he lay his head on top of Pop's.
It was like that broke them. Dad started crying and Pop just sobbed. I ran forward with tears pouring down my face too. I hugged Pop from behind.
"I'm sorry..." Pop voice died at the end but Dad shook his head.
"No baby. It wasn't your fault. I'm so sorry baby. So sorry." We held each other for a few moments before we let go and Pop looked at me.
"Oh I kept you up so late. I'm sorry. You can stay home tomorrow sweety if you want." Pop said as he wiped at his face.
"I'll stay home as well and maybe we can have cocoa night together." Dad said with a smile.
"That would be nice." I said. Pop smiled at me.
"We should all head to bed It's late." I than just realized how sleepy I was. We all headed to our respective bedrooms after that but I had one thing on my mind before I fell asleep.
What were they going to say about my failed English test?