Round 6
Wartime Struggles - Family Feud
Mahoutokoro, Year 2
Crossdressing
Admiration
WC: 1109
THC
Ravenclaw, Standard
"Good Morning! Did I say you could speak?"
Hard Rock Cafe
It was Potter's idea to venture into Muggle London for a pub crawl. Draco had wanted to fight him on this, but he had barely kept his freedom after the war and didn't want to push his luck when Saint Potter was willing to give him a chance.
They each had a pint of Butterbeer at the Leaky Cauldron before leaving the familiar grounds. As the bit of alcohol reached his brain, Draco had to admit that Potter and his scar weren't nearly as obnoxious as he remembered. The scar was mostly covered by his messy black hair making him look like he was just shagged senseless and his eyes were shining in the dim light like jade.
After the first couple of pubs, a fews beers, and a couple of shots, they were walking down the street to the Hardrock Cafe arm in arm. A huge strange-looking guitar showed them the way.
"It's an e-guitar." Harry was singing loudly. "La, la, la!"
People were going out of their way to avoid them and he dragged him to the side. It cost Draco quite a bit of strength to keep them walking in a somewhat straight line. It wasn't that late yet and they hadn't been that drunk… yet, but a filling burger seemed like a good idea. The last thing Draco wanted was to lose to Potter.
They sat down and after giving his eyes a moment to adjust, he could tackle the menu. The Hard Rock Cafe was crowded. Foreign languages mixed into a convoluted mess as Muggles from different countries filled the venue.
"Two Hurricanes and two Lengendary Steak Burgers," Harry ordered with confidence. "You're ok with this, aren't you?" He asked as soon as the waiter was out of sight.
Draco nodded. He didn't really care and Harry just saved him from digging through the entire menu. Why couldn't they just serve Firewhiskey? Then he wouldn't have to read recipes just to guesstimate what he was drinking.
"Malfoy here..."
Despite the noise level, Draco could hear his name loud and clearly. The rest of the room was muted and he turned around to see who was speaking.
The first thing he noticed was the shockingly high heels. Following the with net-tight covered strong legs he found a short pink dress. The long platinum-blonde hair was pinned into an elegant updo and a single loose strand was hanging down the face. Leaning forward the oddly familiar-looking person was talking to someone on the phone.
"Nice arse," Harry commented.
His cheeks were flaming up. "I wasn't looking at that!"
Harry shrugged. And for some reason, Draco felt the urge to justify himself, but just before he could, Harry's eyes were back to the person on the phone.
"Is that your father?"
Draco spat his cocktail out. In shock, he turned around. The eyes, the nose, the face as a whole. For a second, he was thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. His mind was about to explode and empty at once. This was his father, the one he had been always looking up to and now it was all a lie…
Draco had just gotten his first racing broom. He was barely tall enough to ride it yet, but that didn't stop him. The Nimbus 1750 was the company's newest model. It was fast and cool and his father had gotten it for him for his birthday.
The sun was shining and so he was outside practicing his flying in the afternoon. He was taking a u-turn when he spotted his father who was just coming home from a meeting with the Minister.
Draco had seen him make a barrel roll. It was such a cool maneuver and he had been practicing it the entire week. His eyes met his father's. This was all the motivation he needed. Closing his eyes Draco let himself fall to the side. His small hands were clinging to the handle of his broom.
A sigh of relief passed his lips as he landed in front of his father. He did it. He actually did it. His maneuver was just as awesome, soon he would be just as good a Quidditch player. Smiling proudly, he looked up at his father.
But his father stood there stoic. His heart sank as he stood there waiting to be acknowledged.
"It has come to my attention that you are asking inappropriate questions."
"I don't know-"
"What have I taught you about Muggles?"
"That they don't have a place in our world because they change everything and that we need to avoid them." Draco stood there as he repeated the words looking at the ground. "I just don't understand what it is that makes Muggles so dangerous?"
"Go to your room. I don't want to hear you ask any more silly questions. You come from a long line of proud wizards and witches and it is your duty to continue their legacy."
Sulking he walked inside. Draco still didn't understand what it was with Muggles.
Lying on his bed he waited for his father to come up and allow him to leave the room. But he never came and Draco fell eventually asleep.
"Good morning, father."
"Good Morning! Did I say you could speak?"
Draco sat quietly down at the table. So his father was still upset with him.
He had never asked that question again.
Draco jumped up and rushed to his father who was still on the phone.
"If the price drops by a third I'm interested in buying more Samsung." He finally hung up and turned to his son.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He was so angry, he didn't even know what to say.
His father calmly opened his purse and refreshed his lipstick. "I could ask you the same, dating a Halfblood."
"Harry and I, we're not… Does Mother know what you are doing?"
He narrowed his eyes and looked at him. "Are you going to tell her? It is just business, I swear."
Draco took a deep breath. The nerve of him. His father had been lying to him his entire life and know he just wanted to pretend that nothing had happened?
Looking back he saw Harry still sitting at their table, he gave him a sympathetic smile and Draco had butterflies in his stomach.
"Let's make a deal. I won't tell Mother about your Muggle investments if you cover for me when I'm with Harry."
To his surprise, his father offered him his hand. "Deal."