This is my new fan fiction. Let me know what you think of it, as I already have several chapters written. If you like it, I will post more. If you don't like it, I will.... well, you had just better like it then.
I own nothing except for these random girlfriends of Harry's and Oliver Wood( I keep him locked in the closet and he won't stop asking for peanut butter and jelly!!!) j/k =P
Oh yeah... and another note: If you have a dirty little mind and will take anything I say the wrong way, then I wouldn't recommend reading this because, thoguth I have changed a lot of stuff, my friend who read it through thought the things that I said were something else and called it R rated. Please don't think that way, it wasn't meant that way. Thank you.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Draco padded down the spiral stairs of his home Saturday morning to find the most stunning girl sleeping curled up in an arm chair in his living room. He looked at her, puzzled for a moment at the little girl sleeping peacefully, and then remembered the night before. Harry had shown up at Draco's door with his latest girlfriend in tow. She needed a place to stay, as she couldn't get into the school because 3 am was way after curfew.
The school he was talking about, of course, was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Draco remembered attending that school when he was her age; he had graduated four years before. So had Harry. Now he lived in a large, glamorous house just outside Hogsmeade, living off of his inheritance after his death eater father was killed in the war along with Voldemort. Harry worked in the Weasley twins' store, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. "How different we've turned out from what everybody had assumed," he mused.
The little girl stirred. "Who are you?" she asked sleepily, looking at the tall, dramatic, platinum blond man standing before her.
"Don't worry. I'm Harry's friend," he rolled his eyes in disgust, " he left you with me last night so you wouldn't get in trouble for going back to school in the wee hours of the morning."
"Oh." She blushed. "I'm Alexandra Jean. Most people call me Jean, though. You never answered my question, Mr.….."
"Malfoy. But you may call me Draco," he grinned at how clever this girl was beginning to seem, "what year are you in, Alexandra?"
"I'm in the fifth."
Draco was startled. Usually his "friend" found much younger girls than this hanging around the shop where he worked to bring home – or rather, to Draco's home.
"But I'm a year younger than my class mates," she grinned, "I'm only 14." Jean seemed very pleased with herself. But Draco wasn't pleased one bit.
"Put your coat on, Alexandra. I'm taking you back to the school."
"Why? I don't have any classes today. Harry said he'd come and get me." She pouted and threw herself back further into the depths of the cushy chair.
"Alexandra!" Draco pulled out his wand, "You are coming with me," he had to fight to keep his voice even, "Mr. Potter is not going to be allowed into my house ever again. Nor are any of his friends, girlfriends, or," he said with a definite tone of disgust in his voice, "playthings."
He grabbed her, her coat, and his broomstick, and dragged them all out of the house. He shoved the coat onto Jean, Jean onto the broomstick, and flew quickly and turbulently over Hogsmeade, across the lake, and onto the lawn of Hogwarts. He landed the broom roughly and practically yelled, "Walk." As he prodded his young charge forward, across the grass, into the school, and up to the headmaster's office. He knew the place well. He had been in Dumbledore's office several times as a student at the school. He had learned his lesson eventually. "And besides," he thought, "look at what Harry who never was in trouble up here turned out to be." He grinned as he muttered several possible passwords. "Lemon drops. Fizzing Whizbees. Bertie Botts. Fawkes." The statue of a Gargoyle slid aside, and Draco dragged Jean up the stairs and into Dumbledore's office.
"Ah, young Mr. Malfoy!" Dumbledore's eyes still sparkled despite how much his face had aged since the last time they had met.
"Professor Dumbledore," he bowed slightly. "I'm-"
"I see that you have brought Miss Henry with you?"
"If that's Alexandra's last name, sir, than yes, I have. I think that you need to have a little talk with-"
"No. I don't see that Jean needs punished for missing curfew," he looked perplexed for once, "but I guess the question is, why is she with you?"
"That's exactly what I came to talk to you about. You need to talk to your female students about curfews… and older men."
Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up at those last words, and the headmaster listened intently as Draco related to him the whole incident. He leaned back into his chair behind his large desk and took in the view before him. A fourteen year old girl with her brown hair pulled back from her face in a now wispy bun, standing in a sleek, short red dress and a coat, next to a strong, 21 year old man wearing dark blue flannel pajamas, still sporting bed head and eye goobers. "Well," he chuckled, "Jean, you can go to bed. Draco. Stay with me for a minute."
"'Night Alexandra!" Draco called after her, "And don't let me catch you with Mr. Potter again."
"Do you really have such a problem with students and older men?" Dumbledore got back Draco's attention as the door shut behind the young girl.
"Honestly? No, professor," he paused, "but seven years older? And Harry? That's just a little too much for me."
"I guess you know Harry better than the rest of us these days."
"I wish I didn't," Draco said shortly. He said goodbye and left, leaving a very concerned headmaster behind him.
I own nothing except for these random girlfriends of Harry's and Oliver Wood( I keep him locked in the closet and he won't stop asking for peanut butter and jelly!!!) j/k =P
Oh yeah... and another note: If you have a dirty little mind and will take anything I say the wrong way, then I wouldn't recommend reading this because, thoguth I have changed a lot of stuff, my friend who read it through thought the things that I said were something else and called it R rated. Please don't think that way, it wasn't meant that way. Thank you.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Draco padded down the spiral stairs of his home Saturday morning to find the most stunning girl sleeping curled up in an arm chair in his living room. He looked at her, puzzled for a moment at the little girl sleeping peacefully, and then remembered the night before. Harry had shown up at Draco's door with his latest girlfriend in tow. She needed a place to stay, as she couldn't get into the school because 3 am was way after curfew.
The school he was talking about, of course, was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Draco remembered attending that school when he was her age; he had graduated four years before. So had Harry. Now he lived in a large, glamorous house just outside Hogsmeade, living off of his inheritance after his death eater father was killed in the war along with Voldemort. Harry worked in the Weasley twins' store, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. "How different we've turned out from what everybody had assumed," he mused.
The little girl stirred. "Who are you?" she asked sleepily, looking at the tall, dramatic, platinum blond man standing before her.
"Don't worry. I'm Harry's friend," he rolled his eyes in disgust, " he left you with me last night so you wouldn't get in trouble for going back to school in the wee hours of the morning."
"Oh." She blushed. "I'm Alexandra Jean. Most people call me Jean, though. You never answered my question, Mr.….."
"Malfoy. But you may call me Draco," he grinned at how clever this girl was beginning to seem, "what year are you in, Alexandra?"
"I'm in the fifth."
Draco was startled. Usually his "friend" found much younger girls than this hanging around the shop where he worked to bring home – or rather, to Draco's home.
"But I'm a year younger than my class mates," she grinned, "I'm only 14." Jean seemed very pleased with herself. But Draco wasn't pleased one bit.
"Put your coat on, Alexandra. I'm taking you back to the school."
"Why? I don't have any classes today. Harry said he'd come and get me." She pouted and threw herself back further into the depths of the cushy chair.
"Alexandra!" Draco pulled out his wand, "You are coming with me," he had to fight to keep his voice even, "Mr. Potter is not going to be allowed into my house ever again. Nor are any of his friends, girlfriends, or," he said with a definite tone of disgust in his voice, "playthings."
He grabbed her, her coat, and his broomstick, and dragged them all out of the house. He shoved the coat onto Jean, Jean onto the broomstick, and flew quickly and turbulently over Hogsmeade, across the lake, and onto the lawn of Hogwarts. He landed the broom roughly and practically yelled, "Walk." As he prodded his young charge forward, across the grass, into the school, and up to the headmaster's office. He knew the place well. He had been in Dumbledore's office several times as a student at the school. He had learned his lesson eventually. "And besides," he thought, "look at what Harry who never was in trouble up here turned out to be." He grinned as he muttered several possible passwords. "Lemon drops. Fizzing Whizbees. Bertie Botts. Fawkes." The statue of a Gargoyle slid aside, and Draco dragged Jean up the stairs and into Dumbledore's office.
"Ah, young Mr. Malfoy!" Dumbledore's eyes still sparkled despite how much his face had aged since the last time they had met.
"Professor Dumbledore," he bowed slightly. "I'm-"
"I see that you have brought Miss Henry with you?"
"If that's Alexandra's last name, sir, than yes, I have. I think that you need to have a little talk with-"
"No. I don't see that Jean needs punished for missing curfew," he looked perplexed for once, "but I guess the question is, why is she with you?"
"That's exactly what I came to talk to you about. You need to talk to your female students about curfews… and older men."
Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up at those last words, and the headmaster listened intently as Draco related to him the whole incident. He leaned back into his chair behind his large desk and took in the view before him. A fourteen year old girl with her brown hair pulled back from her face in a now wispy bun, standing in a sleek, short red dress and a coat, next to a strong, 21 year old man wearing dark blue flannel pajamas, still sporting bed head and eye goobers. "Well," he chuckled, "Jean, you can go to bed. Draco. Stay with me for a minute."
"'Night Alexandra!" Draco called after her, "And don't let me catch you with Mr. Potter again."
"Do you really have such a problem with students and older men?" Dumbledore got back Draco's attention as the door shut behind the young girl.
"Honestly? No, professor," he paused, "but seven years older? And Harry? That's just a little too much for me."
"I guess you know Harry better than the rest of us these days."
"I wish I didn't," Draco said shortly. He said goodbye and left, leaving a very concerned headmaster behind him.
