A/N: I know, I know, I'm a terrible person. But I literally have no clue how to continue on with Accepted and this plot was bugging the hell out of me. I had to. This time, I'm plotting out each chapter. I will update at least once a week (hopefully) and maybe this time I can actually finish a multi-chap fic for once. I'm starting school next week so FUCK, but I swear I'm gonna try. I have yet to see a fic like this so let's hope this pans out the way I want it to. This is probably going to be non-HP compliant but I'll let you know if it gets too derailed. This is set some time after they dropped Cas off at the whacky shack, so Sam will be y'know, normal. (Btw, I don't have a beta. I'm really good with grammar, but excuse anything that may be wrong.)
Disclaimer: I hate doing these but no, I do not own Supernatural OR Harry Potter
Warnings: I haven't watched seasons 8 or 9 of SPN so please no spoilers in the reviews. Ummm mild language in the chapter, but there's like none so...
Lady Malfoy was well known for her impeccable composure at all times. It was a fact that all pureblood witches were raised to only show cold affection and indifference towards family and friends and especially strangers. So you can imagine the surprise on Lucius Malfoy's face when he found his wife crying uncontrollably on the edge of their large, marble tub, her blotchy, tear-stained face buried in the shoulder of Lucius' long- time friend, Severus Snape. A small vial of bright blue potion lay on the floor by their feet and Severus gave the imposing blonde a pitying stare. Lucius was dumbfounded.
"Narcissa? What ever is the matter? Is something wrong with the baby?" He asked in alarm at seeing the love of his life in such a state. She shook her long mane of beautiful blonde locks. His eyes flickered to the vial of potion that lay unforgotten on the marble tiles. "Severus? What has happened?" The dark haired man gave a shuddering sigh before turning to Lucius. He opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off by the scratchy voice of Lady Malfoy, her tear filled, red-rimmed eyes focusing on her husbands.
"The potion to determine the b-baby's sex was finished so I t-took it and," She choked on her words a bit and the realization of why his was wife was so upset dawned on him. He braced himself for her next words. "It's a boy, Lucius. We're to have a boy." Lucius knew that this was one of the worst case scenarios that could have happened. They hadn't even wanted to consider the possibility. He also knew that any pureblood sons born to him under the reign of The Dark Lord were to be handed over and trained from birth under Lord Voldemort's watchful eye. Lucius may have mistakenly chosen the cursed life of a Death Eater, but he would never force this life on his son.
"Severus is there any way…?" Lucius turned pleading eyes on his best friend. Severus looked pained as he pinched the bridge of his nose, brows creased in worry. His face was screwed up in deep concentration as he contemplated what he could do. Finally, after what felt like hours, the lanky man nodded, his face set in a look of grim determination.
"Yes, I know a muggle, a hunter, named Bobby Singer who owes me a life debt. He's got no children of his own and lives in the States. Your boy will be safe there, far from harm's way. I'll contact him immediately." Severus said and soon found himself with an armful of Narcissa Malfoy, who was once more in tears.
"Oh, Severus! Thank you, thank you. We will never forget what you are doing for our family." She said, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. She rested a hand on her admittedly large stomach, fingers caressing her precious cargo.
It took three days for a response, but it was well worth the wait, in their opinion. The man explained in the letter about his profession and that if the Malfoys were okay with what he did in his spare time, that he would smuggle their son out of the country and raise him like his own. Lady Malfoy was overcome with happiness, knowing that her baby would be safe and raised away from war. With only two months until she was due, the Malfoys sprang into action. They hired all of the right healers and mediwitches that would keep their secret. It was to be made to look as if they baby was a stillborn and no one would know that he would be smuggled out of the country the very next day after birth.
Their months of hard preparation finally came to a head when Lady Malfoy emitted a sudden gasp and a small "Oh!" one morning in the sunroom, where she was having a morning cup of tea. A sharp pain shot through her and she called for their house elf.
"Dobby!" She gasped, and with a small pop the elf appeared next to her, already in a deep bow. He took in her pained expression and the hand resting on her swollen belly and immediately called for the mediwitches and healers—something they had practiced extensively.
It took almost twenty-four hours of labor, but Narcissa soon had a slumbering baby boy swaddled in the finest green silk and the softest cotton, resting in her arms. Lucius stood next to the bed, looking down proudly at his boy. He was startled out of his trance when Severus entered the room.
"What have you decided to name him?" He asked softly, his deep baritone ringing in the silence. Narcissa beamed up at him, and Severus shifted uncomfortably. "I've decided to name him Draco Lucius Malfoy, though it won't matter much in the life that awaits him." She replied with a sad smile, cooing down at the bundle in her arms. Draco had a full head of characteristic silvery-blonde hair that came from all Malfoys, and the beautiful blue-grey eyes from his mother. He wasn't as pale as either of his parents, but the newly acclaimed Daddy Malfoy supposed it was from the Black side of the family (his wife's great, great, great grandmother had married a pureblood Spanish wizard). The next few hours were chaotic as preparations were made to fake the newborn's death and the mansion cleaned for their esteemed guest, one who would make sure their baby never grew up in a war-zone.
Bobby Singer considered himself a reasonable man. Maybe not the kindest, (years of hunting the supernatural and having to kill his own wife toughened him up) but he was reasonable. So when an old acquaintance from Wizarding Britain contacted him asking if he could cash in that life-debt, he decided that he would accept…that is until he finished reading the letter. A baby. Some esteemed, wealthy, family wanted someone to raise their child away from a horrific war on their side. Bobby decided, after reading everything in the letter twice, that he would become a father to the poor child. He felt for the family, he really did. It wasn't the kid's fault he was born in the midst of a war. So he wrote his response, detailing exactly what it was that he did for a living (hunting evil supernatural creatures) and sent the letter off, hoping that Sam and Dean would understand. Sure, his job was dangerous, but not nearly as bad as what would become of the child should he be left in England.
When Draco Malfoy was born, Bobby was immediately contacted and summoned to the Malfoy Manor. It took a long, long, flight to England, but he was there. It took another three hours to reach the Manor. It was hauntingly beautiful, all slate grey stones and luscious gardens. It was shadowed by the eerie woods that surrounded the property, and Bobby could tell that the mansion was inherited over several generations. Sizing up the eighteenth century style manor, he double-checked the address on the parchment (oddly enough), and knocked boldly on the massive, ebony doors. A small creature with tennis ball sized eyes and big floppy ears greeted him at the door and the redneck gave the thing an appraising stare. It introduced itself as Dobby the House Elf ("Dobby be taking sir's coat if sir doesn't be minding, sir.") and led him into the beautiful and enormous mansion.
"Dobby, you may leave." Came a soft, lilting voice from the grand staircase. "Welcome to my home, Mr. Singer. I cannot express how grateful I am for this. I am forever indebted to you." Bobby turned to face the speaker. She was shockingly beautiful, he noticed. The woman had long, wispy blonde hair that was twisted in an elegant knot, and she was dressed to the nines in what looked to be expensive silk. The bundle in her arms gave a soft coo and he took a deep breath—the boy swaddled in those blankets would be his in a matter of hours.
"Ma'am." Bobby said, tipping his hat to her. His thick, southern drawl was very apparent and she looked at the man curiously. "I assure ya that I don't need thankin'. Mind tellin me the boy's name?" The woman, who he now figured was Lady Malfoy, finished her descent down the white marble staircase (Bobby noticed that the entirety of the front parlor was done in the shimmering stone). She nodded curtly and motioned for him to follow.
"Come," She said softly, avoiding the question—it wouldn't matter soon anyways, he figured. He guessed she was thinking the same. "My husband and Severus are waiting for us in the sunroom." He nodded and followed her down the grand hallway, the portraits, he noticed, peering down their noses at him and whispering to their neighbors. "Ignore the portraits, Mr. Singer." It was said almost as afterthought and Bobby tried desperately to fight off the shiver that ran down his spine. It was painfully obvious that it was a magical home as he made his way behind the blonde. Besides the moving portraits, there seemed to magical armor whose heads creaked as they turned to watch the newcomer, and several wrinkly creatures, who he now knew were called house elves, bustled beside him, offering up delicious looking pastries. Bobby was soon greeted by an intimidating man with long blonde hair tied back in a silk ribbon and Severus Snape, the man who he had met once on assignment in England (during which he had also saved the man's ass from a "muggle" werewolf). Formalities were exchanged and they spent the next three and a half hours hashing out the details. Narcissa, with tears swimming in her luminous eyes, kissed her baby one last time on the forehead before handing him to his new father.
Many hours later found Bobby Singer back in Sioux Falls, settling the sleeping child into a crib in the freshly painted nursery. He couldn't help the small upward twitch of his lips as the baby sighed in his sleep.
"Welcome home, Drake Lucius Singer. Welcome home."
A/N: In case you didn't figure it out, they had to change his name for his own safety, but I'm sure I made it obvious. Snape will probably still be the same snarky asscracker, but towards people he cares a lot about, he's not, so don't give me bullshit about him being OOC.
REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! I will try to update as soon as I can. Let me know what you all think!
xoxo,
JustWriteforYou