Author's Notes:
Here's Chapter 51.
I love a good Draco/Blaise bromance.
As always, I dedicate this fanfiction to all my readers.
I dedicate this chapter to purplehedgehog13, TinySlippers, tmtcltb, MrsGinPotter, Writingaddict169, Sherlock Harry Winchester, Ruselly Adita, roon0, unfittingpuzzlepieces, Shinee's Hypeman, Kikistone, Emf5176, FanofFanFiction, Killa of legends, Meegles, Cutieno100, beth and Guests.
Question Time:
Why do I use whilst all the time?
I did realise I use it so much. I guess because it's what I use when I talk myself and it's what everyone I know uses so it's just a part of my everyday. It might seem strange if you're not from the UK as according to Google it's 'Chiefly British'.
Love Dumbledore's Wisdom.
P.S. Enjoy Xx
Once Draco's dressed and brushed his teeth, he heads back downstairs into the living room to find that the record had reached the end. He flicks the switch, turning the player off and removes the record, placing it back in its sleeve. Glancing around the room, he discovers that despite them not spending much time in the house, the living room is a mess with the couch cushions and blanket strewn on the couch and a few books lying on the coffee table along with a nearly empty glass of water.
He sets to work draping the blanket evenly over the back of the couch then plumping the cushions and positioning them correctly in the corners of the couch. He collects the glass of water, taking it into the kitchen to wash up, pausing when he notices that the window is slightly ajar. He swiftly casts his eyes around the kitchen, placing the glass of water on the counter before running into the living room and up the stairs.
"Athena!" He calls, thankful that she isn't deaf. "Athena, where are you!" He calls as he frantically searches the bathroom and bedroom but she's nowhere to be found. "No." He curses, running down the stairs, two at a time, then back into the kitchen where he throws the kitchen window wide open. "ATHENA!" He shouts, running into the garden, a few people in their own gardens and over on the green stare at him as he casts his gaze to the sky, wondering why he bought such a tiny bird.
"Lost someone, Malfoy." Someone calls but he doesn't pay attention.
A faint chirp sounds from somewhere nearby and lower to the ground. He follows the sound of the chirp with his eyes to find Athena sat atop of the flamingo's head.
"Athena!" He sighs in relief, rushing over to her and carefully picking her up. "I wondered where you had gotten to my dear." He mutters to her, stroking the top of her head.
Athena closes her eyes, nuzzling her head against his finger affectionately.
"Lost someone, Malfoy." The voice he now recognises as Geoffrey's asks again.
With a deep sigh, he looks down at the gnome deciding to humour him for once.
"Get on with it then, Geoffrey." He nods at him as he crouches down to his level.
"Get on with what?" He asks.
"Whatever terrible joke you're about to tell me."
"I'm no one trick pony, my friend, I can do other things," Geoffrey says angrily.
"Really? What else can you do?" Draco asks doubtfully.
"I can hold a conversation for one thing, not that you would ever know since you never come to visit me. Do you know how my conversations with Pinky are?" He asks. "None existent." He answers straight away.
"As far as I'm aware, all you can do is talk." Draco points out.
"Rude. You know, words can hurt." He says. "All you care about is getting your joke and going."
"I don't actually care for your jokes, I'm just being polite," Draco tells him.
"There you go again, hurting me with your words. You know what, you're not getting a joke today and it was a really good one so you're missing out." Geoffrey scalds him.
"I doubt it," Draco mutters, standing back up.
"Fine, I'll tell you." He calls, rolling his eyes. "What do you call a magical owl?" He asks.
Draco frowns. "Aren't all owls magical?" He questions.
"Are you going to play along or not?" He frowns at him, trying to hold in a smile.
"Fine, I don't know."
"Hoo-dini!" Geoffrey bursts out laughing, slapping his knee.
"I don't get it," Draco states in confusion.
Geoffrey sighs. "There's a muggle magician called Houdini and an owl says Hoo." He explains slowly for him.
"Oh, okay." He gives him a quick chuckle. "I have to go."
"Yeah, bye, whatever." He shrugs.
As Draco starts walking away, he hears Geoffrey mutter Houdini and laughs to himself. He makes a mental note to ask Hermione about the joke. Back in the house, he locks the back door and closes the kitchen window.
"Did you just want some fresh air?" He coos as Athena who chirps in return. "We'll have to start letting you fly in the garden." He tells her as she spreads her wings and flutters around the kitchen.
Draco goes back to washing up the dirty glass, letting it dry next to the breakfast dishes. In the living room, he replaces a few books on their bookshelves before taking out the potions book that contains Hyperion Malfoy's file and taking it over to the couch where he rests the book on the coffee table.
For a few minutes, he just sits on the edge of the couch staring at the potions book before working up the courage to take the file out. He wonders what it would have been like to have had an uncle growing up. Technically he did have an uncle, Rodolphus Lestrange, but he, along with his aunt Bellatrix, was in Azkaban up until they escaped in 1996. However, Rodolphus wasn't the first person who came to mind when he thought of an uncle, Hermione's Uncle David seems like a perfectly good uncle. Maybe Hyperion would have been like him but he highly doubts it. If he wasn't a squib, it's most likely that Hyperion would have been an older version of Lucius.
Shaking his head of thoughts of his father, he opens the book, taking out the file. He really should return it soon before Mr Vyner figures out it's missing if he hasn't already. Taking his wand out, he opens the file and duplicates each piece of parchment placing the originals back in the file and closing it. He might have time today to take it back.
Draco goes through each piece of parchment multiple times trying to remember every detail, which doesn't take too long considering there's very little information on him. The muggle ministry must have some form of record keeping. He wonders if Hermione knows how to get hold of their information. After checking his watch, which tells him it's nearly half past ten, he deems it late enough to knock on Blaise's door without fear of waking him up. Placing the original file in his jacket pocket and the copies back in the potions book, which he returns to the shelf, he heads for the front door where he puts his shoes on before exiting the house, making sure to lock the door behind him.
Blaise's front door opens almost instantly after Draco knocks, making him step back in surprise.
"Draco?"
"Blaise?"
"Hi!" Blaise chuckles, throwing his arms around his neck and pulling him into a quick, tight hug. "I was literally just on my way to your house." He laughs, pulling him through the front door and into his living room.
"Really? What did you want?" Draco wonders, taking a seat on his couch.
"I'm bored!" Blaise cries, throwing himself down next to him, laying his legs over his lap.
Draco pushes his legs off but he just replaces them so he leaves them where they are.
"Luna's only been gone for two days and I'm already bored out of my mind." He sighs, arms dangling over the side of the couch. "I'm actually looking forward to Monday, just so I have something to do." He states.
"What's happening on Monday?" He asks.
"My translating job starts." He answers.
"Are you nervous?" Draco asks.
"Nah! It's not as if it's gonna be hard." He shrugs. "I do have to be in the Minister's office at six o'clock in the morning though. That's gonna be hard." He adds.
"That's it." He announces, pushing his friend's legs off his lap as he stands up. "I'm not going to watch you mope on this couch all day, complaining about your job. Get up. We're going out." He states, grabbing hold of Blaise's hand and pulling him off the couch.
"Where we going?" He asks, eager to get out of the house.
"Hermione's taken me to this Muggle shopping centre a few times. You might like it." He suggests as Blaise grabs a jacket and they head to the front door. "I'll introduce you to Gordon." He adds.
"Who's Gordon?" He asks as he locks the front door.
"My new best friend." He jokes.
Blaise gasps overdramatically, dropping his key on the floor. "I thought we had something special." He fake sobs as he bends to pick his keys up.
Draco rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore his best friend's antics.
"Speaking of Hermione, how is she?" He asks.
"Great, she's gone to visit a friend for the day." He says.
"You know, I actually think she fixed my hearing a little too well the other day. Everything sounds clearer." He tells him.
"I always said you were a little hard of hearing." He points out, taking his hand as they exit the gate to the estate.
Draco disapparates them to the alleyway at the back of the shopping centre. Blaise gazes up at the building in awe.
"Wow, it's massive." He mutters to himself.
"Come on," He grabs hold of his arm and drags him towards the street.
When they enter the shopping centre, Blaise stops in the middle of the floor, glancing up at the different floors.
"Yeah, just stand there and hold everyone else up." A man says as he pushes past them.
"Come look at some of the clothes Muggles wear." Draco starts walking over towards the clothes shop but Blaise has already set off towards the car shop.
Draco, predicting his question, says, "That back wall is actually a massive door which they press a button to open." Blaise stares at him confused. "That's how they get the cars inside." He adds.
"That's amazing." He says. "Did you say something about Muggle clothes?" He asks.
After a couple of hours of Blaise dragging him into nearly every shop, they finally make it to Gordon's record shop where the old man is sat at his desk reading a newspaper.
"Hello, Gordon!" Draco greets him as they walk in.
The old man looks over the top of his paper looking in shock for a few seconds before seemingly recognising him.
"Draco Malfoy, back so soon." He climbs off his chair, placing the paper on his desk. "You brought a friend." He glances nervously at Blaise who's stood staring with a wide grin at a record player with lights that are flashing in time to the music.
"Draco, have you seen this?" He calls.
"I was hoping you would recommend me a new record. Something different from the last ones." He tells him.
"Didn't like the Beatles and Elvis." Gordon chuckles.
"I don't think I've listened to them yet. I quite liked some of the songs on the Bon Jovi record you gave me." He mentions.
"Alright, something different from Elvis, Bon Jovi, the Beatles and Elton." He glances around his shop. "You're young. Maybe something from the new releases will take your fancy." He mumbles to himself, walking over to the shelf when a ringing noise comes from his desk. "Ah, I've been expecting a call. Why don't you take a look yourself?" He suggests as he shuffles back over to his desk.
Draco makes his way over to the shelf that had a sign labelling it as the new releases but before he can begin to search through them all, a large picture on the wall above the shelf catches his eyes. The black and white picture is of two men back to back and staring at each other but one standing and the other is sitting partially on a stool. There's something about their faces that look so familiar but they shouldn't. Draco has never seen any pictures of Muggle bands before. Maybe they look similar to someone from the wizarding world.
"Hey, Blaise!" He calls his friend over. "Do these two look familiar to you?" He asks, pointing at the picture.
Blaise wanders over to his side. "Yeah, they do." He says after a few seconds of staring at them.
"All the kids are into Pulp at the moment. I think I read in a magazine that they've self-classified themselves as 'Art Rock meets Indie Britpop'." He scoffs. "What does that even mean?" He shakes his head. "I've got one of theirs around here somewhere." He mutters as he rummages around a few shelves. "Here we go. Different Class, 1995. Number three was their biggest hit." Gordon explains, handing the record over to them.
"I'll take it." He passes it back to Gordon who shuffles over to his desk to price it up. "Maybe Hermione will recognise them." He tells Blaise.
After struggling for a while to find a five pence, Draco hands over £3.30 for the record, telling Gordon that he can keep the five pence change, which he thanks him for as they leave. Since Blaise had already dragged them into nearly every shop, they make their way down the stairs of the shopping centre and out of the doors onto the street. They make a quick right onto a deserted street to shrink the record down until it fits inside his jacket pocket.
"Where now then?" Blaise asks as they walk back towards the main street. "Do you even know where we are?"
"No, not really. We could apparate to the Leaky Cauldron?" Draco suggests.
"Or," Blaise smirks. "We could go there." Pointing to a pub on the other side of the road.
"You want to go to a Muggle pub?" He asks, feeling unsure.
"Come on, Draco." He wraps his arm around his shoulders. "Let's live the Muggle life." He says, guiding him to a road crossing Hermione had D shown him how to use once by pressing the button and waiting for the green man to show.
Draco follows a confident looking Blaise into the pub, still feeling unsure himself. Blaise walks straight up to the bar, gazing up at the blackboard with a list of drinks.
"What can I get you, mate?" The bartender asks, leaning on the bar.
"I'll have a beer please, mate." He orders.
The bartender glances at Draco.
"I'll have the same."
"Right, which beer do you want?" The bartender smirks, holding back a laugh.
"Oh, I don't know." Blaise looks back up at the blackboard. "Just give us whatever."
The bartender chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm gonna have to ask for ID boys."
Blaise turns to look worriedly at Draco. "ID?" He questions and Draco shrugs his shoulders.
"Yes, identification. Do you have a driving licence?" The bartender looks between them both.
Draco frowns. "No, I don't know why anyone would want to drive?"
"Where are you from?" He crosses his arms.
"Originally from Italy, then France and nowhere." Blaise smiles.
"So you must have a passport. Do you have it on you?" He asks.
"Erm… A passport?" Blaise looks back at Draco looking increasingly more nervous.
The bartender looks confusedly at them both for a long few seconds before shaking his head.
"Unless you can prove you're over eighteen, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave boys." He tells them.
"Oh right, well I'm eighteen and he's just had his nineteenth birthday," Blaise explains.
"Without proof, I can't serve you. Sorry." The bartender shrugs at them unapologetically.
"Right," Blaise mutters. "Come on, Draco, let's hit the Leaky Cauldron." He states as they exit.
They set off walking down the street, trying to find a secluded place to disapparate from when they come across another pub.
"Should we try one more Muggle pub before we head back?" Blaise suggests.
"We might as well give it a try."
Draco enters first this time, eyeing the bar up for a drinks name. He spots a blue and gold sign that says 'Fosters'.
"Alright lads, what can I do you for?" He deeply asks.
"We'll have two Fosters." Draco orders, hoping that's what he was asking.
"Right up." He mutters, grabbing two glasses and filling them up with golden liquid. "That's £3.50, mate."
Draco hands over the correct amount and carries the two glasses over to the booth near the back of the pub where Blaise is sat waiting.
"Thanks, mate." He laughs, taking one of the pint glasses off him and taking a sip. "It's alright." He hums appreciatively.
Draco takes a sip of his own and has to hold in a shudder. "This is disgusting." He mutters, placing it on the table.
"It's an acquired taste," Blaise tells him, taking a couple of gulps then shuddering.
"One that you haven't acquired." He raises an eyebrow.
"Muggle alcohol is stronger than anything we have. We just have to get used to it." He explains before downing the rest of his pint.
Draco watches as he slams the empty glass on the table then presses his fists into his eyes. "Oh, Merlin." He complains.
"I'm going to assume that wasn't a good idea." Draco laughs, taking a few sips from his own glass.
"No, not at all." He groans, throwing his head into his arms, resting on the table. "I would not recommend that." He mutters into his arms.
"Maybe you should take it easy with the next one. You know how easily our alcohol affects you." He snipes.
"Ouch, you got me." He sits up, covering his heart with his hand. "I'll get the next round. I want that downed by the time I get back." He makes his way halfway to the bar before turning around and coming back. "I haven't got any Muggle money." He states.
"Here." Draco sighs, handing him a crisp five-pound note.
"Thanks, mate." He laughs, rushing back over to the bar.
"Shut up." He calls after him, picking up his glass to try to down it but he can only manage half by the time Blaise has returned a few minutes later with two pints that are a weaker golden colour. "What's that?" He asks, still sipping at his first drink.
"Apple cider. I thought you might like it with your love of apples." He says, placing them both down on the table.
"Thanks." Draco reaches over to grab one but Blaise swats his hand away.
"Nope, not until you finish that." He smirks at him.
Draco groans in annoyance as he struggles to drink the rest of his drink.
"Keep going." Blaise encourages him.
"And your mother thought I was a bad influence." He glares at his friend when he's finished.
"Here you go, have a drink." He pushes the apple cider towards him.
Draco takes a cautious sip, humming approvingly. "This is actually quite nice." He admits.
"Good, here's your change." He hands over a fifty pence. "So, Draco, how are you?" He asks, leaning across the table on his elbows.
"Why?" Draco narrows his eyes suspiciously at his friend.
"Since we graduated, I don't see you much anymore. I barely know what's happening in your life." He pouts. "So, what's new?" He questions.
Hyperion is the first thing that comes to mind but he shakes that away.
"I got a haircut." He states with a shrug.
"Really?" Blaise stares at his hair for a moment. "It doesn't look much different."
"It's shorter." He says. "Mitty did it the yesterday."
"So the highlight of your life at the moment is getting a haircut." Blaise shakes his head. "I'm feeling very sorry for you right now."
"I'm bearing witness tomorrow at Rabastan Lestrange's trial." He admits.
Blaise's eyes widen. "What? Why? You were pretty adamant you would only ever testify against your father."
"A little bit of bribery goes a long way." He smirks, quirking an eyebrow.
"Draco," Blaise leans closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You bribed the Minister. What did you get in return?"
Draco looks him in the eye for a moment trying to decide whether or not to tell him. He knows he can trust his friend.
"You can't tell anyone this, alright." He leans closer to the table.
Blaise nods. "Never, I promise."
"I got access to the record archives." He whispers.
"Are you joking? You have access to the records of everyone." Blaise stares at him in awe.
"Every wizard and witch, alive or dead." He tells him, drinking the rest of his apple cider. "You want another cider, it was nice." He asks, sliding out of the booth.
"Yeah, go on." Blaise downs the rest of his. "We're not finished on this though." He points at him.
When Draco returns with four more pints of cider, Blaise resumes their conversations straight away.
"Why do you need to see the records?" He asks.
"One of Hermione's ancestors was called Karina Rowle. She wanted to know if Karina was related to the sacred or it was just a muggle coincidence." He starts to explain.
"And?"
"She was. Her mother was a muggle and her father was Thule Rowle, a pureblood. She herself was a squib." He answers, Hyperion coming to the forefront of his mind again.
"So you risked imprisonment with your father to find out whether Hermione is distantly related to the Rowle family," Blaise repeats disapprovingly.
"Having that access has been an advantage or more than one occasion. One of Hermione's cousins is a witch." He explains, defending his decision.
"Two Muggleborns in one family!" He exclaims.
"No, she's half-blood." He smiles. "Three guesses which famous witch is her mother that abandoned her at six weeks old."
"Really? Who is it?" He asks excitedly.
"Gwenog Jones." He announces.
"No way!" He gasps. "Why'd she abandon her daughter?
Draco nods, finishing one of his pints. "Apparently she was threatened by a group of Death Eaters to abandon her daughter and focus on her career so she could vote for the World Cup to stay in England." He explains.
"I don't remember there being a vote." Blaise frowns as he tries to think.
"There wasn't one. She lied. Hermione's talking with her today to try and find out the truth." He tells him.
Blaise suddenly narrows his eyes at him as he leans back in his seat, crossing his arms.
"What?"
"You love Hermione." He sings with a smirk.
Draco laughs. "No, I don't. I like her and maybe I'm starting to fall for her but I'm not in love her."
"You risked imprisonment for her. You bribed the Minister so Hermione could find out if she was a long descendent of the Rowles and so Hermione could find out that Gwenog is her kind of aunt." Blaise shakes his head. "You're definitely falling in love with her."
"Shut up." He scoffs. "It wasn't just for Hermione, I found out I have an uncle." He admits, eyes widening in shock as he realises what he's saying.
"You have an uncle?" Blaise questions him.
"Yeah, he's a squib. My grandparents sent him to live in a Muggle orphanage on his ninth birthday." Draco tells him.
Blaise shakes his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you sat there and told me that the most exciting thing in your life was your haircut."
"Well, that's everything. What's exciting in your life?" Draco throws the question back at him, drinking his cider.
"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily. What's this uncle called? Where does he live now? Wait, does your father know?" Blaise rattles off questions after questions.
"He's called Hyperion, the last record the Ministry has is of him living in that orphanage in London but it closed down in 1964 when he was seventeen and I have no idea if Lucius knew of his existence. He was two when they sent Hyperion away." He sighs, leaning back in his chair. "I tried asking my mother but she told me to never bring him up again and to forget he ever existed but I can't. I have an uncle out there somewhere and I want to find him." He admits to himself for the first time.
"Why don't you just ask your father?" Blaise suggests.
Draco's eyes harden as he glares at his best friend. "No!" He states simply.
"Come on, Draco. He's your father. Just talk to him." He tries to convince him.
"I said no," Draco tells him warningly.
"Why not?" Blaise pushes him but he just glares back at him. "Think about it."
"I've told you no." Draco snaps, slamming his empty glass on the table. "I was the one who put him Azkaban. I was the one who stood up at his trial. I exposed every little criminal detail about him. I begged the Wizengamot to imprison him for life. I was the one he shouted after as he was dragged away from the stand like a deranged animal. I did that to him. I did that to my own father. I'm surprised my mother didn't disown me. I turned my back on my family. I may feel guilty but I haven't looked back. I don't regret a single thing. If I go visit him in there, I don't know what he's going to be like. Bellatrix went insane in there and no matter how much I hate Lucius, I never want to see him like that." He sighs. "Sorry, I'll shut up" He mutters, shaking his head.
"Draco, have you talked to your mother about how you feel?" He asks.
"Of course not," He scoffs. "You've met her if I so much as express a negative emotion she'll think I'm weak."
"What about Hermione? She won't think you're weak." He suggests.
"No, I can't talk about my family. She already knows we're all messed up. Why do you think I haven't told her about Hyperion yet?" He admits.
"Well, you know I'm always here to listen to you but telling Hermione can only bring you closer together. She'll appreciate your honesty. Trust me, go tell her now." Blaise leans back trying to look sophistically.
"I can't, she's with Gwenog." Draco reminds him.
"Oh yeah, well shall we get another round." Blaise stands up, wobbling slightly on his feet.
"I think we've had enough." Draco shakes his head, following his friend up.
"I'm not drunk." He states as he stumbles out of the bar.
"Of course not, and neither am I." He rolls his eyes, knowing himself that he's slightly inebriated. "Let's grab some dinner and head back to mine." He throws his arm around Blaise's shoulders.
"At least by me dinner first." He slaps his shoulder.
Draco stares at him. "I am, I literally just offered."
"Oh, what are we having?" He asks as they walk down the alleyway at the back of the pub.
"Fish and chips. It's Hermione's favourite dinner, I might get her some for her dinner when she gets back." He glances around the alleyway to ensure no one is watching before taking Blaise's hand and disapparating them to the alleyway behind the Granger's house.
"Where are we?" Blaise asks, glancing around.
"Hermione's parent's house. There's a fish and chip shop not far away from here. Chris, her dad, took me there, I think I can remember the way." He says, guiding his friend through a few streets until they reach Howard's Fish and Chips.
"Well, if it isn't the posh twat." Howard greets him as soon as he enters. "And you brought a friend. Are you a posh bastard too?" The man asks.
"I've had a few posh step-dads. The one before Alberic was Prince Carl of Norway or Sweden or somewhere. It only lasted a few months. Apparently, mother didn't tell him she was thirty-seven or that she had a son who was only a few months younger than him." Blaise laughs. "It was a nasty shock for him. We're still friends though. He was definitely the hottest step-dad I've ever had. Alberic is bald." He pouts. "Not that bald people can't be hot. Do you remember Joseph, Draco? He was a close runner-up to Prince Carl." He adds.
"He's just all kinds of messed up, isn't he?" Howard comments, shaking his head. "What d'ya want, mate?" He asks.
Blaise chuckles to himself. "Mate." He mutters.
"Three fish and chips and three… of those bread." He orders, not remembering what Chris had called them.
"Baps?" Howard offers.
"Yeah, three baps." He nods.
"Coming up." He smiles at him, writing the order down. "You posh twat." He mutters under his breath as he walks away.
Draco takes Blaise over to sit on the large ledge under the window.
"Carl was Prince of Sweden." Draco reminds him. "The first thing you asked him was if he like meatballs."
"Yeah, my mother was briefly Princess of Sweden," Blaise announces proudly.
A few minutes later, Howard rings a bell to gain their attention. "Orders up, are you actually paying yourself tonight?" He asks snidely.
"Yes, I exchanged some money." He takes some notes out of his pocket. "How much is it?"
"£8 for everything."
Draco hands over a ten-pound note and tells him to put the change in the tip jar on the counter. He has to drag Blaise back to the Granger's alleyway because he's dragging his feet with every step. Once there, Draco, being the least drunk of the two, takes Blaise's hand and disapparates them back to the estate.
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