Disclaimer: The Potter-verse belongs to J.K.R.
A/N: Hey! This update comes pretty quickly, doesn't it? Okay, I had fastest updates, but never mind. So, well, I'm really starting to run out of ideas for my Author's Notes (I'm wondering what was up with me when I used to write long and elaborate poems after that A/Ns). By the way, our family of the week is Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater. They have only one son, Leonard, he's seventeen years old and he's in Ravenclaw (I had to fight the temptation to place him in Slytherin…), oh yes! And he's Head Boy – great news here… Well, hope you'll like this chapter, I think it's funny! Enjoy it!
To Halo of Darkness: Thanks a lot for beta-reading this chapter, and I'm happy that you found it funny!
Talks
Draco Malfoy heard footsteps outside his bedroom and then someone tried to open the door, in vain, because he had locked it.
"Draco Malfoy!" he heard Pansy screaming. "Open this door right now!"
"No!" he said hastily.
"What are you doing?"
"None of your business," he snapped.
"I'm your wife and that's my bedroom in which you are locked. Of course it's my business!"
Draco snorted and stood up from the chair he was sitting on. "What?" he asked, banging the door open.
Pansy looked at him intently. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," he answered harshly.
She tried to look over his shoulder, but he was much taller than her and blocked her vision of the room. She stood on tiptoes and Draco placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her down. She glared at him. "Well, if you are doing nothing, I should be allowed to see," she said, bending down and passing under his arm.
"No! Pansy!" Draco followed her into the bedroom, but she was too quick and picked up the parchments on which Draco had been writing.
"Did you know that my mother wasn't allowed to stick her nose into my father's business?" he asked her, trying to take back the pieces of parchment.
"That's why your father ended up in Azkaban."
"What are you talking about? And give it back!" said Draco, chasing his wife all over the room.
"If your mother would have stuck her nose into your father's business, she would have warned him that what he was doing was completely wrong," she said, jumping on the bed with her shoes and climbing down on the other side.
"My mother was very supportive of my father," said Draco, circling the bed.
"What do you mean? Are you trying to say I'm not supportive?" she asked, jumping on the bed again.
"Not even half my mother was with my father," he said, smirking.
"Just because I won't let you kill our grandson doesn't mean I'm unsupportive," she said seriously.
"Don't call him that," said Draco firmly.
"What?"
"Grandson. He has not been born yet," Draco spat out fiercely.
"Oh, well, so you are still confessing that you are planning to harm him in some way," said Pansy, looking at the parchments in her hands. At that very moment, Draco jumped on her and they rolled down the bed onto the floor.
"Ouch," cried out Pansy as she landed on her back. "You are going crazy," she muttered to Draco, who was still trying to take back the parchments from her hands.
"Just because I want you to stay out of my business? Don't they call that privacy?"
"Not if you kill your wife," she said, pressing on her elbows and trying to sit up, while Draco tried to reach for the parchments once again.
"Take your stupid letters," she cried, throwing the pieces of parchment at him and standing up, rubbing her back. "Now tell me why you are writing to Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini."
Draco stood up as well and shoved the parchments into his pocket. "Just to keep in touch," he said as he walked towards his desk.
"Aren't you asking them to furnish you with some strange herbs and potions?" she asked him suspiciously.
"Strange herbs and potions? What are you talking about, woman?" he said, trying to sound as casual as he could.
"You know what I'm talking about," she said seriously with her hands on her hips. "Last week, you asked me if we had a book of healing potions and yesterday you spent all day in manor library, and when you came out, you had that book under your arm," she added, pointing towards the desk where a rather huge tome lay open on it.
"It's about creating your personal Shrunken Head," he replied vaguely.
Pansy raised her eyebrows. "Accio Book!" she said, pointing her wand at the book.
"No!" cried Draco, trying to catch the book before it flew into Pansy's hands, but he missed it.
Pansy read the name of the potion on the top of the page and glared at him. "What are you trying to do with an abortion potion?" she asked, feeling her anger rising.
Draco rolled his eyes and snorted.
"Well?" asked Pansy harshly.
"I don't know why you are so keen to mix up your blood with the Weasleys', but I won't let my only son have a child from her," he said, walking towards Pansy and grabbing the book from her hands.
"I'm not keen to mix my blood with the Weasleys'," she answered angrily, "but I won't let you kill my grandson."
"You are crazy," stated Draco, sitting down on his chair.
"No, you are crazy," she cried.
"She is the daughter of that blood traitor Weasley and that Mudblood Granger," Draco screamed at her. "Can I remind you of that?"
"Emeric loves her, and we should respect his choice," said Pansy.
"He is out of his mind, just like you," said Draco bitterly.
"The time of Death Eaters and Purebloods is finished, Draco," cried Pansy. "It finished the night that Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who."
Draco glared at her. "Voldemort has nothing to do with this," he said coldly. "He was a Half-Blood himself."
Pansy rolled her eyes. "Then what's wrong with you? In this world, there isn't a single wizard or witch that hasn't Muggle blood in his or her veins," she said vehemently.
"Malfoys don't have Muggle blood," he blurted.
"Well, in a few months, they will," said Pansy, smirking.
Draco glared at her. "You are not taking it seriously. It's a great insult to my family." He paused for a while. "Your family," he added.
Pansy shrugged. "I don't care if my son is happy," she said.
"And if your husband isn't happy?" snapped Draco.
"I don't care about that either," she snapped.
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted by the doorbell that rang twice. He jumped to his feet and ran towards the door, pushing Pansy away in the process. "I'll get it," he said, climbing down the stairs of the manor.
Pansy looked at him with her eyebrows raised and her hands on her hips. "What did you buy a house-elf for?" she asked after him. He mumbled something in response, but he was too far away from her. Then the door opened and Pansy heard someone talking. She stepped towards the stairs and climbed down them slowly. In the entrance hall, she spotted the tall shape of Blaise Zabini.
"Hi, Blaise," said Pansy from the last stair.
Blaise turned to face her and smiled. "Hi, Pansy. You look wonderful. See, I came here to discuss Shrunken Heads with Draco," he said quickly, walking towards her and kissing her on both cheeks.
Pansy looked at him with her eyebrows raised. "Really? That's funny, because Draco was looking for the same thing in a book this morning," she said, "but he ended up at a page of a tome with an abortion potion on it."
Blaise looked at Draco as if he was waiting for him to give him directions. He wasn't sure if he had to sound surprised, amused or bemused. Draco rolled his eyes. "Blaise and I have lots of things to do, Pansy," he said harshly. "Serve us lunch in my office," he said haughtily, walking past his wife and heading for upstairs.
Pansy glared at him dangerously. "I warn you, Draco Malfoy, harm my grandson in any way and I'll ensure you get sent to Azkaban."
Draco turned to face Blaise, who looked at him with his mouth wide open, and shook his head. He opened the door of his office and entered, followed by Blaise.
"She is out of her mind," started Draco, sitting down at his desk. "I can't understand why she is so keen on becoming a grandmother."
"Well, a baby is a baby and she is a woman," said Blaise, shrugging.
Draco glared at him. "He won't be a normal baby, he'll be a Malfoy with Weasley blood in his veins," he pointed out.
"How deplorable," stated Blaise. "But you are lucky in your misfortune. At least the Weasleys are purebloods."
"The mother of that Weasley girl is Hermione "Mudblood" Granger," cried out Draco.
Blaise looked horrified, Draco nodded. "She is a Gryffindor," he said as if it was something dreadful.
Blaise shrugged. "Well, she is a Weasley. Weasleys has always been in Gryffindor."
"No!" cried out Draco, placing a parchment on the desk under Blaise's nose. "Look, there's a Weasley which is actually in Ravenclaw," he said, indicating the name of Leonard Weasley on a long list of names.
Blaise looked at it with his eyebrows raised. "What is this?" he asked.
"A list of students at Hogwarts and of all their families," answered Draco nonchalantly.
"And you have it because?"
"Because I want to know how to make sure that girl gets the abortion potion. I want to know who is good and who's not in that school."
"And by good you mean?"
"Faithful to the purebloods," stated Draco.
"I see, well, you know, maybe you are a little bit too eager with this idea of purebloods and half-bloods and Mudbloods. I mean, there aren't lots of Purebloods whose blood is really pure anymore," Blaise said simply.
Draco rolled his eyes. "You speak just like Pansy; you can go downstairs and have tea with her, if you want," he said grumpily.
Blaise raised his eyebrows. "Does she have lemon cake?" he asked seriously.
"What day is it today?"
"Monday."
"No," said Draco. "There are chocolate cookies on Monday."
"No, thanks, then. Can I stay here with you?"
Draco nodded. "Now, back to important business. Did you write to your daughter?"
Blaise nodded. "I wrote her last week."
"And what did you tell her?"
Blaise snorted. "I wrote her to try her best to prepare the potion that you gave me."
"What potion?" asked Draco, looking at him intently.
"The abortion potion you gave me last week," said Blaise, annoyed.
"I didn't give you any potion last week," stated Draco.
"You gave me that damn abortion potion, Draco," Blaise cried out.
"I didn't," snapped Draco, "because the potion you are talking about is still in this book."
Draco showed the book to Blaise, who rubbed his temples and narrowed his eyes. "What did I send her then?"
"You sent her the piece of parchment that I gave you, right?" asked Draco, feeling his anger rising.
"I guess I did, why? What was that?"
"A recipe for pancakes," cried out Draco.
"Oh, I thought it was something important," said Blaise, waving a hand in front of him.
"It is; it's an old recipe from Pansy's family!"
"Then why did you give it to me?" asked Blaise defensively.
"Because you had to give it to Millicent," said Draco, exasperated, ripping the page from the book. "Make her send the recipe back and send her this," he added, shoving the abortion potion recipe under Blaise's nose.
The other man shrugged. "Okay, but you have to pay more attention," he said.
Draco turned away from him, cursing under his breath.
"So what should I write her?" asked Blaise.
"Just that her father is as stupid as Goyle," said Draco hastily. "Tell her that you have sent her the wrong thing, and she should send it back. Then send her the right potion and tell her to make it - it's not difficult - and the victim – I mean the patient – must drink it no later than an hour after the potion has been created. It takes a month to be brewed. I think that she should slip it into Weasley's pumpkin juice at breakfast or something like that," stated Draco.
"Okay, I took note of everything. Now, you called me for what, exactly?" asked Blaise, rather bored.
"Blaise, I asked you here because I wanted to give you the potion," said Draco, trying to stay calm.
Blaise nodded. "You know, I was thinking that you could have sent the potion to Sybella yourself."
"No, I don't want to send my owl to her. Emeric would recognize it and he would think that I'm up to something."
"He would be right, wouldn't he?"
"Yes, but he doesn't have to know. I want it to be a surprise," said Draco, smirking.
"Oh, yes. I can see the happiness in his eyes when he'll find out the wonderful surprise you'll give him. Killing his son," muttered Blaise.
Draco looked at him for a moment. "If you say it that way, it doesn't sound so good, but I'm not killing anybody. Actually, the baby has not yet been born. You can't kill someone that is not born," said Draco venomously.
"Someone that should be born, but will never be born. What do you call that, if not killing?" asked Blaise simply.
Draco frowned. He felt uneasy about where the conversation with Blaise was going. What was wrong with everybody? Didn't they see that he was doing this for his son's sake? "Nobody will notice if a child will never be born. And everybody will thank me for saving them the disturbance of taking care of a little annoying creature like a baby," he hissed.
"That's why Pansy was screaming at you?"
"Pansy is a fool. And that Mudblood Granger is just like her. They are all so excited to become grandmothers. How stupid women can be," said Draco, laughing.
Blaise raised his eyebrows. "What about Emeric?"
"What about him?" asked Draco sharply.
"Will he be thankful to you, or will he hate you with all his might?"
"Since when are you so interested in what my son thinks about me?" asked Draco suspiciously.
Blaise shrugged. "I just want to be sure that you know what you're going to do."
"I'm sure," muttered Draco.
"Even if Emeric will hate you after what you've done?"
"He can't hate me, I'm his father. Blood of his blood. Flesh of his flesh," stated Draco.
"You hate your grandson. Blood of your blood. Flesh of your flesh."
Draco glared at him. "Stop it. I don't have a grandson. I can't hate someone that has not yet been born," he hissed. "Now get out of my house. And if you don't want to help me, I'll take care of everything by myself," he said, taking back the page of the book that he had just handed to Blaise. But Blaise took it from Draco's hands very calmly and placed it in his pocket.
"No, it's fine. I'll help you," he said, smiling. "After all, we are talking of saving your honour, no matter at what cost."
Draco nodded stiffly, feeling incredibly uneasy at Blaise's words. "Right," he said hoarsely.
Blaise nodded. "I'll pick up some chocolate cookies anyway, if you don't mind," he said, walking towards the door of the office and smiling to Draco.
Draco nodded. "Okay, let me know how my plan works," he said, sitting back at his desk.
"Sure," said Blaise, closing the door behind himself.
Draco listened to his footsteps in the corridor and then down the stairs; he heard his voice as he greeted Pansy, and then Draco heard the door closing behind Blaise.
Draco sat there, staring at the wall in front of him and thinking. His son would never hate him, would he? No, on the contrary, he would be very grateful to him. He wouldn't have permitted his son to be born, so what was the matter? He could have other children. Later. When he would be an adult. When he would be out of Hogwarts. When he would find a pureblood witch.
No. Nobody would be mad at him. Then why, after that short talk with Blaise, did he feel a painful grip around his heart every time he thought about harming that baby?
