Nauthiz13
All's Fair in Love and War
Chapter 2: Second Thoughts
Disclaimer: I own nothing of anything that appears in the Harry Potter books. That belongs to JK Rowling. Other characters and things you don't recognize, as well as the plot, are mine. (The character Candi Riddle is partially owned by my friend, Meagan. She made her up, but I (so far) am the only one of the two that has used it).
WARNING! WHEN I WROTE THIS CHAPTER IT WAS 2:00 IN THE MORNING AND I WAS SUGAR-HIGH ON CHEESECAKE, SOUR GUMMY-CANDY, SODA, CAFFENATED COFFEE, MINT 'N CREAM OREOS( AND BOREDOM. WHEN I AM SUGAR-HIGH, I HAVE A TENDENCY TO TALK.A LOT. IN THIS PARTICULLAR CHAPTER, THE AUTHOR NOTE IS QUITE LONG AND I HAVE A FEW STUPID, UNOFFENSIVE COMMENTS IN SOME PARTS OF THE CHAPTER. THOUGH I AM NOT EMBARRISSED BY ANY COMMENTS, I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO KNOW WHAT I WAS THINKING WHEN I WROTE THEM. I COULD HAVE TAKEN THE COMMENTS OUT AND SHORTENED THE A/N, BUT I THINK THEY ADD A TOUCH OF AMUSEMENT TO THIS BORING CHAPTER AND HAVE A POINT SOME WHERE IN THEM. THIS IS A RATHER SERIOUS CHAPTER IN THE SAGA THAT IS MY STORY AND SOME THINK I'M RUINING THE ESSENCE OF IT BECAUSE OF MY COMMENTS. WELL, FOR YOUR INFO, I LIKE FINDING AMUSEMENT IN ALL MY STORIES. IN THIS CASE, I'M JUST SHARING THE 'JOY' OF MY MESSED-UP THOUGHTS WITH YOU. DOESN'T THAT MAKE YOU FEEL ALL SPECIAL AND FLUFFY INSIDE? NO? WELL, IF YOU WANT TO KEEP THE SERIOUSNESS OF THE CHAPTER, READ THE STORY WITHOUT THE A/N OR COMMENTS, THEN READ THEM LATER. ANYWAY, SIT BACK AND BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, ETC. THANK YOU. THIS HAS BEEN A PUBLIC SERVICE ANOUNCEMENT, BROUGHT TO YOU BY A STORE NEAR YOU.
A/N: I once had an idea about what the plot of this story was.however in the many months process of not touching it, I have lost all recollection of what that plot was. Hopefully this version is just as good. I'm sure many of you are thinking, "How hard can it be to remember some plot. This is a rather 'unique' story and it is very hard to mix it with other plots that you have." Well, ^ in a defiant voice ^ I have many stories and plots that I do not post! Sure, they are nothing like this particular story, but my mind's memory only has so much space. My guess is that it probably got its ass kicked out the back door because it was taking up room. For all of you that have actually read this far into my very long author's note must be interested into what I have to say (which I doubt), you're reading because you're my friend or know me so you probably want to know what I'm saying to tell me I'm a whack job later (like you don't already know or need any more proof), or you're too stupid to know that this is, in fact, the author's note and not the story. I could drone on and on and on, but I'm going to give you a break to read the chapter, though I'm sure you're already too tired to read anything else. Incase you're wondering, the author's note is shorter than this particular chapter and hopefully the other chapters. By the by, what's 'telepathic solo-sonic frequency'?
~~~~~
Draco looked around. He was sitting in his own bed, in his own room, in his own house. He gave a sigh of relief, and looked at the clock on his wall. It was 5:30 in the morning. Draco lay back down. All was silent, the way he liked it. Draco slowly closed his eyes.
He was nervous. That wasn't like him. He was never nervous about anything. Then again, he had never gotten married before. "Being nervous is natural." Everyone would say. Draco supposed they were right. Getting married was a big commitment, not just some quick, easy thing that, if you didn't like, you could painlessly undo. Draco was only eighteen, one year out of Hogwarts. His feet have barely left the ground and he was already getting a Mrs. Draco Malfoy. Draco loved his wife-to-be, but was that dream a warning of what was to come, or just his nervousness corrupting his mind, destroying what little hope he had? Draco gave a second thought. Did he really love her like a girlfriend, or was it more like a sister? Did he really love her at all?
Draco opened his eyes and shook his head. He had to get the thought of his marriage out of his head. Draco got up and put his feet on the cold floor. Draco stretched and bent down to retrieve the shirt he had thrown on the ground before he had gotten into bed. He had just left his jeans on. Draco put his shoes on and walked out of his room into the corridor. He had always hated large places. His mansion was no exception. It had too much unused space that just collected dust. He was alone in this place that he had inherited form his mother.
His parents had divorced in his seventh year at Hogwarts. His mother had gotten everything, including custody of him. His father, of course, got nothing. His mother had died a few months ago. Draco had never liked his father, Lucius. Lucius seemed hate Draco too. Draco didn't care. He preferred it that way.
His footsteps echoed in the empty halls and rooms. Magical torches lit up as he came close, but went out as he walked away. He finally made it to the long curving staircase, which led to the lobby. Draco went down them and walked out the door as he grabbed the keys to his convertible parked out front. Though he was brought up to hate the Muggle-world, it strangely all-of-a-sudden fascinated him. He hadn't added a garage since he was going to sell the mansion it after the marriage. His fiancée didn't seem to like the idea of getting rid of the mansion, but couldn't do anything about it.
Draco got into the car, turned the ignition key and drove off. The night air blew his usually slick, silver-blond hair. He drove another half- hour until he finally made it to London's Leaky Cauldron. Draco parked the car, magically locked it and went into the pub. The place was a bit fuller than Draco had thought it would be. He walked over to the bar. He had half a mind to order a beer, but it was too early to start drinking.
~~~~~
FYI: (and for all you oblivious (in other words, stupid) people: FYI= For Your Information) Yes, Draco is eighteen, and no, I do NOT encourage under age drinking. This is the wizard world, people! The drinking age is eighteen, or at least in my stories. For all of you that think I should actually take time out of my lazy life and change the people's ages and have the drinking age at 21, F*** OFF! IT'S MY DAMN STORY! ^ Clears throat ^ Anyway, ON WITH THE STORY!
~~~~~
Instead, Draco ordered a Ginger Ale (Comment: Izn't dat veird? It's, like, one word away from being alcohol and also one word away from being a plant or plant part. It's like Root Beer and Birch Beer! AHAHAHAHAHAHA.haha.hoohoo.ha.heh.right.er.K). Draco took a sip out of his drink just as a hooded figure stepped into the pub he walked over to the bar and ordered a Diet Coke (Comment: And that's one word away from being a drug!). An old lady had came in after the figure and ordered an Iced Tea (Comment: And that's only one word away from being a letter!). Another person came in and ordered wine (Comment: And that's almost another word for complaining! AHAHAHAHAH! Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll shut up now.) Another person had come in, but Draco got bored of watching the door and turned around to face his glass.
Draco gritted his teeth. No matter what he did, even when he was drunk, he never seemed to be able to get the thought of his marriage. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to cancel it. When he had proposed to her, he was drunk. He didn't even know about it until she called the day after about wedding plans. That was one reason why he didn't want to drink in the morning, he didn't want to get into more shit than he was. Draco would call it off, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings. Draco sighed. He needed a vacation.
All's Fair in Love and War
Chapter 2: Second Thoughts
Disclaimer: I own nothing of anything that appears in the Harry Potter books. That belongs to JK Rowling. Other characters and things you don't recognize, as well as the plot, are mine. (The character Candi Riddle is partially owned by my friend, Meagan. She made her up, but I (so far) am the only one of the two that has used it).
WARNING! WHEN I WROTE THIS CHAPTER IT WAS 2:00 IN THE MORNING AND I WAS SUGAR-HIGH ON CHEESECAKE, SOUR GUMMY-CANDY, SODA, CAFFENATED COFFEE, MINT 'N CREAM OREOS( AND BOREDOM. WHEN I AM SUGAR-HIGH, I HAVE A TENDENCY TO TALK.A LOT. IN THIS PARTICULLAR CHAPTER, THE AUTHOR NOTE IS QUITE LONG AND I HAVE A FEW STUPID, UNOFFENSIVE COMMENTS IN SOME PARTS OF THE CHAPTER. THOUGH I AM NOT EMBARRISSED BY ANY COMMENTS, I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO KNOW WHAT I WAS THINKING WHEN I WROTE THEM. I COULD HAVE TAKEN THE COMMENTS OUT AND SHORTENED THE A/N, BUT I THINK THEY ADD A TOUCH OF AMUSEMENT TO THIS BORING CHAPTER AND HAVE A POINT SOME WHERE IN THEM. THIS IS A RATHER SERIOUS CHAPTER IN THE SAGA THAT IS MY STORY AND SOME THINK I'M RUINING THE ESSENCE OF IT BECAUSE OF MY COMMENTS. WELL, FOR YOUR INFO, I LIKE FINDING AMUSEMENT IN ALL MY STORIES. IN THIS CASE, I'M JUST SHARING THE 'JOY' OF MY MESSED-UP THOUGHTS WITH YOU. DOESN'T THAT MAKE YOU FEEL ALL SPECIAL AND FLUFFY INSIDE? NO? WELL, IF YOU WANT TO KEEP THE SERIOUSNESS OF THE CHAPTER, READ THE STORY WITHOUT THE A/N OR COMMENTS, THEN READ THEM LATER. ANYWAY, SIT BACK AND BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, ETC. THANK YOU. THIS HAS BEEN A PUBLIC SERVICE ANOUNCEMENT, BROUGHT TO YOU BY A STORE NEAR YOU.
A/N: I once had an idea about what the plot of this story was.however in the many months process of not touching it, I have lost all recollection of what that plot was. Hopefully this version is just as good. I'm sure many of you are thinking, "How hard can it be to remember some plot. This is a rather 'unique' story and it is very hard to mix it with other plots that you have." Well, ^ in a defiant voice ^ I have many stories and plots that I do not post! Sure, they are nothing like this particular story, but my mind's memory only has so much space. My guess is that it probably got its ass kicked out the back door because it was taking up room. For all of you that have actually read this far into my very long author's note must be interested into what I have to say (which I doubt), you're reading because you're my friend or know me so you probably want to know what I'm saying to tell me I'm a whack job later (like you don't already know or need any more proof), or you're too stupid to know that this is, in fact, the author's note and not the story. I could drone on and on and on, but I'm going to give you a break to read the chapter, though I'm sure you're already too tired to read anything else. Incase you're wondering, the author's note is shorter than this particular chapter and hopefully the other chapters. By the by, what's 'telepathic solo-sonic frequency'?
~~~~~
Draco looked around. He was sitting in his own bed, in his own room, in his own house. He gave a sigh of relief, and looked at the clock on his wall. It was 5:30 in the morning. Draco lay back down. All was silent, the way he liked it. Draco slowly closed his eyes.
He was nervous. That wasn't like him. He was never nervous about anything. Then again, he had never gotten married before. "Being nervous is natural." Everyone would say. Draco supposed they were right. Getting married was a big commitment, not just some quick, easy thing that, if you didn't like, you could painlessly undo. Draco was only eighteen, one year out of Hogwarts. His feet have barely left the ground and he was already getting a Mrs. Draco Malfoy. Draco loved his wife-to-be, but was that dream a warning of what was to come, or just his nervousness corrupting his mind, destroying what little hope he had? Draco gave a second thought. Did he really love her like a girlfriend, or was it more like a sister? Did he really love her at all?
Draco opened his eyes and shook his head. He had to get the thought of his marriage out of his head. Draco got up and put his feet on the cold floor. Draco stretched and bent down to retrieve the shirt he had thrown on the ground before he had gotten into bed. He had just left his jeans on. Draco put his shoes on and walked out of his room into the corridor. He had always hated large places. His mansion was no exception. It had too much unused space that just collected dust. He was alone in this place that he had inherited form his mother.
His parents had divorced in his seventh year at Hogwarts. His mother had gotten everything, including custody of him. His father, of course, got nothing. His mother had died a few months ago. Draco had never liked his father, Lucius. Lucius seemed hate Draco too. Draco didn't care. He preferred it that way.
His footsteps echoed in the empty halls and rooms. Magical torches lit up as he came close, but went out as he walked away. He finally made it to the long curving staircase, which led to the lobby. Draco went down them and walked out the door as he grabbed the keys to his convertible parked out front. Though he was brought up to hate the Muggle-world, it strangely all-of-a-sudden fascinated him. He hadn't added a garage since he was going to sell the mansion it after the marriage. His fiancée didn't seem to like the idea of getting rid of the mansion, but couldn't do anything about it.
Draco got into the car, turned the ignition key and drove off. The night air blew his usually slick, silver-blond hair. He drove another half- hour until he finally made it to London's Leaky Cauldron. Draco parked the car, magically locked it and went into the pub. The place was a bit fuller than Draco had thought it would be. He walked over to the bar. He had half a mind to order a beer, but it was too early to start drinking.
~~~~~
FYI: (and for all you oblivious (in other words, stupid) people: FYI= For Your Information) Yes, Draco is eighteen, and no, I do NOT encourage under age drinking. This is the wizard world, people! The drinking age is eighteen, or at least in my stories. For all of you that think I should actually take time out of my lazy life and change the people's ages and have the drinking age at 21, F*** OFF! IT'S MY DAMN STORY! ^ Clears throat ^ Anyway, ON WITH THE STORY!
~~~~~
Instead, Draco ordered a Ginger Ale (Comment: Izn't dat veird? It's, like, one word away from being alcohol and also one word away from being a plant or plant part. It's like Root Beer and Birch Beer! AHAHAHAHAHAHA.haha.hoohoo.ha.heh.right.er.K). Draco took a sip out of his drink just as a hooded figure stepped into the pub he walked over to the bar and ordered a Diet Coke (Comment: And that's one word away from being a drug!). An old lady had came in after the figure and ordered an Iced Tea (Comment: And that's only one word away from being a letter!). Another person came in and ordered wine (Comment: And that's almost another word for complaining! AHAHAHAHAH! Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll shut up now.) Another person had come in, but Draco got bored of watching the door and turned around to face his glass.
Draco gritted his teeth. No matter what he did, even when he was drunk, he never seemed to be able to get the thought of his marriage. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to cancel it. When he had proposed to her, he was drunk. He didn't even know about it until she called the day after about wedding plans. That was one reason why he didn't want to drink in the morning, he didn't want to get into more shit than he was. Draco would call it off, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings. Draco sighed. He needed a vacation.