Cream
By, Rosekeet
A/N: Thought I'd do a little take on Malfoy... I like my one about Snape so here's something on Malfoy. Just a short on chapter deal.
Rated PG-13 for language
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters and titles belong to J.K. Rowling. I assume no credit for them.
Dedicated to: My Stupid Friend Louisa who I spend more time with then any other person.


DARK LORD DEFEATED
The Dark Lord has been officially pronounced dead by ministry doctors. He was killed by Aurors Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.


I did a double take. Draco Malfoy? Auror?There were two words you didn't see together.

Malfoy, once in he-who-must-not-be-named's inner circle, says he was proud to participate in the Dark Lord's defeat.
"I can not express my regrets for the error in my past ways." He says mournfully. "I will be forever haunted by my hideous deeds."


I snorted. Draco, guilty? Yeah. And Muggles use summoning charms.

Harry Potter who is known for the first downfall of the Dark Lord says that, "I was just living up to my reputation. I don't remember that first night. But, I feel that now I've done something to be proud of." Malfoy says that "It was an honor to work with Harry Potter." and that he "hopes to be able to do so in the future if the need ever arises." see page 6


I turned the page and found a picture of a smiling Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. They waving and shooting each other dirty looks. Hopes to work with him in the future my ass.
"You always were a liar, weren't you Draco?" I said to the picture with a sneer. I shut it sharply and threw it into the trash bin. I didn't need to read that rubbish. So the Dark Lord was finally defeated. And Harry Potter would be in even more books and Draco Malfoy had shamed the family name. I would have bet a hundred gallons Lucius was rolling in his grave. I shook my head.

The Malfoy's were idiots. Every single one. Lucifer helping Riddle. Marisa slaving away to Riddle then marrying Lucifer. Riddle killed them both. Lucius helping Voldemort then when Harry Potter lived returning to the "light" side. Narcissa marrying Lucius. Both of them trying to go back to him. Draco going with Voldemort then turning to Dumbledore for forgiveness. I could go on and on.

"14 generations of Malfoy's kissing their own asses and you had to go and stick your head up yours. Draco, Draco, Draco." I whispered as I got up to make some coffee. But of course Draco didn't give a damn about his family or anybody else. He was in it for himself and that was it. Well, come to think of it so was every other Malfoy. They would stick like glue to whoever could give them the most.

"Didn't hurt them at all." I mused as I waited for the coffee to brew. They knew what side their bread was buttered on. If Voldemort could give them power, then go to him. If the ministry could go to them. Hell, if Hobo Bob at the corner of 9th and main could give them something they'd go up and offer to polish his shoes. I sipped my coffee, and the smirking face of Draco swam before my eyes.

"Didn't give a shit about who you hurt along the way did you, you bastard?" I said to it. The smirk never failed. I shook my head and poured some cream into my coffee. I stirred it with a long silver spoon. The cream blended into the brown, making it all a tanish color. "You're just like cream Draco." I said. "You mix in with whatever's around you and change it to fit your will." I sipped my coffee and made a face. Damn him. I fished the paper out of the trash and opened it up to the picture. Draco and Harry were now shaking hands with Pamela Flatoon, the Minister of Magic. Draco whispered something to her in the picture and she blushed.

"Always knew how to get what you wanted didn't you?" All the nerve. Hitting on the Minister of Magic. At least she was single. God help us all if they got together. I shook my head. Less than a year ago he was kissing the hem of old Voldie's robes and now he was practically kissing the Ministers cheek.

"You son of a bitch. You murdered the last minister, and hit on the next. And no one gives a damn." I shook my head again but couldn't help feeling impressed. He hadn't changed a bit. I tore the picture out. I lay it on the counter and folded the rest of the paper up neatly and sat it on the table. I sipped my coffee and picked up the photograph. I stood over my sink and tore it into a thousand tiny pieces. I turned the water on and watched the scraps whisk down the drain. I poured my coffee in and shut the water off.

I hated my coffee with cream.