A/N: Boo! Me again! I hope this is ok and not too boring. I'm off, thanks
for REVIEWING!
Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter. I am also a compulsive liar. So I guess I don't own him.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Draco made sure to be absolutely silent as he slipped out of the fragrant bed and into the bathroom. He didn't dare shower there; he was afraid to wake her up. ^She'd probably make me stay for breakfast^ he groaned mentally. Instead, he quietly slipped on his pants and shirt and tiptoed out the door.
Breathless in the lobby of the apartment complex, Draco realized he had run the eight flights of stairs. But, he felt relieved and decided to take a stroll along the city block. He breathed into the cool air and saw his breath; for a moment, it felt all too surreal. The Muggle world, his father's death, the war, the disease…
Yes, the Muggle world. As soon as he had been discharged from the Light army for his disease, he'd moved to the Muggle world to wait for the war to end. It had. Only two months ago, it had, and yet Draco was still in the Muggle world, still wandering aimlessly, still conducting meaningless rhondeveus* with every Muggle woman willing to offer her sheets for a night. But never more than a night.
He never worried about transferring his incubus disease, for it could only be caught in the wizarding world, and only there by certain potions. ^My father, no doubt, slipped me it when I joined the Light army^ Draco scowled, turning the corner onto Winchester Avenue and passing three little Muggle girls playing jumprope. Draco stopped, remembering the nurse who had diagnosed him. A passionate, fearless seeming woman who he would not recognize had he seen her on the street. It wasn't as if this was a rare thing; he thought of her often, every morning as he slipped out of an apartment or house or mansion or castle for that matter… just like he slipped out of her simple infirmary tent at Broker's Field.
He didn't exactly regret that day, he just didn't understand it. She had kissed him, and then… he didn't quite get it at all. As much as he tried to make sense of it, there was something familiar, passionate, charismatic about her…
Draco had received a letter from Ronald Weasly the other day. Apparently he was marrying some Pisca Starr and Draco, having been a member of his squadron in the war, had been invited. Of course, he wasn't going to go… But something gnawed inside him, urging, daring him to go. He didn't know what, but it was a twist deep in his soul that pressed all the wrong—but how write they were!—buttons. That made him consider going. He just might, maybe he should.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
"Corey, baby, stay still. Mommy's trying to make you look like a gentleman." Hermione fiddled with her young son's tie on his miniature suit. He looked like a life-like doll. She stood back to marvel her handiwork. "You look adorable, Cor." The little boy blushed, and went to hug his mother's knee. She wore a long, light pink gown but she did not mind as he crinkled his cheek up against it and murmured "I love you, mommy."
"Aw, sweetie…" She kissed his button nose and let him use the portkey, a Muggle sticker, and continued gazing into the full-legnth mirror for final touches.
"Stop that, Herm; you look ravishing." She spun on her high heels to see Harry, decked out in a black tuxedo, smiling sweetly.
"Thanks," she tried a smile, but she had not been able to show one of her schoolgirl ones that she once so earnestly displayed in such a long time. She offered her elbow, and he escorted her into the wedding through the portkey.
It was beautiful, with white balloons all over and white roses on all of the elegant tables. Ron and his family were all posing for a picture by the cake when Harry and Hermione arrived.** "Harry! Hermione!" Ron rushed toward them just as the photographer snapped the picture. "I'm so glad… it's been so long!" And without further words, he grasped them both closely. He spotted a small, blonde boy lingering behind Hermione. "Hello, chap, who might you be?"
The boy didn't say anything, and Ron was surprised when Hermione placed a maternal hand on his shoulder. "Ron, this is Corey Granger, my son."
Harry looked at her questioningly. "So you're not calling him Corey Sullivan?"
"No…"
Ron was utterly and bitterly confused. "So you were married to a Sullivan? And this is your son?"
"Uh huh…"
"Alrighty then," Ron smiled. "Hi, Corey, I'm Ron Weasly." Corey nodded in acknowledgement and Ron laughed. The little boy was awfully cute with his bright blue eyes. They had grey in them too. It was like an ocean, as Hemrione had often noticed.
A flash from the other end of the room signaled another guest's arrival. "Ah, Draco, glad you could make it!" Ron welcomed the man with a fond handshake. He gestured to Harry and Hermione. "I'm sure you remember Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."
Draco nodded, looking slightly out of it. "Oh, yes," he said idly, and shook Harry's hand. He looked to Hermione who had blanched. "And it's good to see you as well, Hermione." He went to kiss her hand, but she pulled away and smiled weakly.
"And you, Draco," she said in a dissettling voice.
"Mommy," came a voice from behind Hermione's beautiful dress, "who is he?"
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^
A/N: Wow, and ty to my reviewers… hopefully this is ok, tho short. Thx!
Fire Goddess: thankyou so much! Very appreciated!
Carmen—thankz, I plan on it
Alicia Malfoy—thanks, lets hope so
Matt—my wish is your command, thankyou
Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter. I am also a compulsive liar. So I guess I don't own him.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Draco made sure to be absolutely silent as he slipped out of the fragrant bed and into the bathroom. He didn't dare shower there; he was afraid to wake her up. ^She'd probably make me stay for breakfast^ he groaned mentally. Instead, he quietly slipped on his pants and shirt and tiptoed out the door.
Breathless in the lobby of the apartment complex, Draco realized he had run the eight flights of stairs. But, he felt relieved and decided to take a stroll along the city block. He breathed into the cool air and saw his breath; for a moment, it felt all too surreal. The Muggle world, his father's death, the war, the disease…
Yes, the Muggle world. As soon as he had been discharged from the Light army for his disease, he'd moved to the Muggle world to wait for the war to end. It had. Only two months ago, it had, and yet Draco was still in the Muggle world, still wandering aimlessly, still conducting meaningless rhondeveus* with every Muggle woman willing to offer her sheets for a night. But never more than a night.
He never worried about transferring his incubus disease, for it could only be caught in the wizarding world, and only there by certain potions. ^My father, no doubt, slipped me it when I joined the Light army^ Draco scowled, turning the corner onto Winchester Avenue and passing three little Muggle girls playing jumprope. Draco stopped, remembering the nurse who had diagnosed him. A passionate, fearless seeming woman who he would not recognize had he seen her on the street. It wasn't as if this was a rare thing; he thought of her often, every morning as he slipped out of an apartment or house or mansion or castle for that matter… just like he slipped out of her simple infirmary tent at Broker's Field.
He didn't exactly regret that day, he just didn't understand it. She had kissed him, and then… he didn't quite get it at all. As much as he tried to make sense of it, there was something familiar, passionate, charismatic about her…
Draco had received a letter from Ronald Weasly the other day. Apparently he was marrying some Pisca Starr and Draco, having been a member of his squadron in the war, had been invited. Of course, he wasn't going to go… But something gnawed inside him, urging, daring him to go. He didn't know what, but it was a twist deep in his soul that pressed all the wrong—but how write they were!—buttons. That made him consider going. He just might, maybe he should.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
"Corey, baby, stay still. Mommy's trying to make you look like a gentleman." Hermione fiddled with her young son's tie on his miniature suit. He looked like a life-like doll. She stood back to marvel her handiwork. "You look adorable, Cor." The little boy blushed, and went to hug his mother's knee. She wore a long, light pink gown but she did not mind as he crinkled his cheek up against it and murmured "I love you, mommy."
"Aw, sweetie…" She kissed his button nose and let him use the portkey, a Muggle sticker, and continued gazing into the full-legnth mirror for final touches.
"Stop that, Herm; you look ravishing." She spun on her high heels to see Harry, decked out in a black tuxedo, smiling sweetly.
"Thanks," she tried a smile, but she had not been able to show one of her schoolgirl ones that she once so earnestly displayed in such a long time. She offered her elbow, and he escorted her into the wedding through the portkey.
It was beautiful, with white balloons all over and white roses on all of the elegant tables. Ron and his family were all posing for a picture by the cake when Harry and Hermione arrived.** "Harry! Hermione!" Ron rushed toward them just as the photographer snapped the picture. "I'm so glad… it's been so long!" And without further words, he grasped them both closely. He spotted a small, blonde boy lingering behind Hermione. "Hello, chap, who might you be?"
The boy didn't say anything, and Ron was surprised when Hermione placed a maternal hand on his shoulder. "Ron, this is Corey Granger, my son."
Harry looked at her questioningly. "So you're not calling him Corey Sullivan?"
"No…"
Ron was utterly and bitterly confused. "So you were married to a Sullivan? And this is your son?"
"Uh huh…"
"Alrighty then," Ron smiled. "Hi, Corey, I'm Ron Weasly." Corey nodded in acknowledgement and Ron laughed. The little boy was awfully cute with his bright blue eyes. They had grey in them too. It was like an ocean, as Hemrione had often noticed.
A flash from the other end of the room signaled another guest's arrival. "Ah, Draco, glad you could make it!" Ron welcomed the man with a fond handshake. He gestured to Harry and Hermione. "I'm sure you remember Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."
Draco nodded, looking slightly out of it. "Oh, yes," he said idly, and shook Harry's hand. He looked to Hermione who had blanched. "And it's good to see you as well, Hermione." He went to kiss her hand, but she pulled away and smiled weakly.
"And you, Draco," she said in a dissettling voice.
"Mommy," came a voice from behind Hermione's beautiful dress, "who is he?"
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^
A/N: Wow, and ty to my reviewers… hopefully this is ok, tho short. Thx!
Fire Goddess: thankyou so much! Very appreciated!
Carmen—thankz, I plan on it
Alicia Malfoy—thanks, lets hope so
Matt—my wish is your command, thankyou
