Unexpected Guests by Sera
--This was one of the first fics I wrote, but I decided not to upload it because, frankly, it isn't one of my best efforts. But (to hell with it) it's April Fool's Day and I am on a high and I'm like, why not?--
A/N: Okay, I was going to write a cliché but I've just finished writing a fic based on 'The Call' by (grand masters of music) BSB!!! BSB rocks!!! Anyway, that fic was really depressing and as a result I'm really not in the mood for a cliché. so I'm going to write my other idea for a story, "Unexpected Guests" It's set after Hogwarts, Harry is married to Cho....enjoy!!
Voldemort is dead, Harry reflected, as he hung off the edge of the nearly-vertical cliff face. It didn't help in the least to comfort him, faced with the fact that in two minutes or less, he was likely to follow suit. His fingers were going numb; he winced as the sharp winds bit into his back. His trusty wand was in the most useless position of all: on the ledge. Wand up, himself down. Well, at least I'll see my parents, he thought sarcastically as his frozen fingers began releasing their death grip on the tuft of grass… I love you, Cho, as his fingers gave way.
A hand reached down, pale fingers encircling his wrist. Another reached down, fingertips grasping his. Within scant moments, he found himself being hauled up, and was lying gasping on the grassy ledge. I thought I'd used up the last of my 39572 lives, he marveled. (A/N: He's not a cat, he's a Harry Potter, which is why he has 39572 lives not 9 and he needs them all to protect himself from fanfic authors like myself who keep killing him off!! Hehehe, just my little joke) It struck him that he was being especially rude; this guy had just saved his life. He sat up, enthusing, "Thank you thank you thank you" only to see a flash of silver and a hooded figure Disapparating. "Who are you?" he whispered into the darkness.
A/N I was going to end it there and only finish it if you pplz wanted a sequel, BUT I realized 3 important things: 1. I hate when people do that to me 2. I hate stories that come in parts 3. This story is only 2 paragraphs long as of yet... so...
A month after Harry's brush with death (not the first, and not likely to be the last either) him and Cho were resting in the lounge of their spacious home. Their 3-year old son, James Sirius potter, had just been put to bed. It was raining heavily, and Cho had just glanced outside and muttered, "I don't envy anyone caught in that deluge," when there was a knock on the door. Harry pulled it open. Outside stood a handsome, if somewhat bedraggled, young man with silver-blond hair and grey eyes. (I'm sure you've realised who it is by now) A smile flickered on his lips, and his posture straightened to form that of a proud, noble bearing. "Harry Potter," was all he said "Can I come in?" Then he crumpled to the floor.
Harry just managed to catch him before his head came into contact with the door frame, and looked helplessly at Cho. "Bring him in," she ordered, instantly transforming into Miss Efficiency, and choosing to ignore the fact that their uninvited visitor was dripping rainwater all over the mahogany floorboards. She summoned up a large towel (whether by magic or otherwise is irrelevant) and wrapped it around the youth's shivering form. By the time he regained consciousness, he was in dry clothes (Harry's, and a bit too big for him, but that's also irrelevant), wrapped up in blankets, and reposing near the fire. "Thank you," he murmured.
Cho broke the silence, asking a question that had been hanging in the air unspoken ever since his arrival. "Who are you??" Harry nodded in agreement. Something about the stranger looked familiar - very familiar - something was nagging at the back of his mind that he felt he should recognize...
"What, you've forgotten me already?" the voice was mildly sarcastic, but free of malice "I'm deeply wounded"
Harry felt as though he had been shot. He'd placed the voice - the face had changed too much for him to know it, and even though the drawling characteristic of the voice had been lost, the nuances remained - and they were enough. He looked up slowly. "Draco Malfoy" he said haltingly "You're supposed to be dead."
"Don't think I don't know that," came the reply. "Sorry to disappoint the masses, but I'm very much alive. It turns out I was only a little bit dead, and so here I am! What have you to say to that, Harry?"
Harry paused, deep in pensive thought. "I didn't know we were on first-name terms, Malfoy." Draco had, at that moment, spotted Cho. "My dear lady," he was declaring. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Harry is indeed lucky to have such a talented… and exquisite … wife." Cho giggled and blushed. Apparently the years had not worn down Draco's charm too much.
"Malfoy," Harry butted in, interrupting Cho's answer. "Why are you here? How did you survive? The Ministry said that there were no survivors."
Draco spat bitterly, "They lied. They saw me there, trapped under the rubble of my family's mansion. They heard my cries for help. My mother and father had been killed in the initial onslaught. The Ministry team left me there for dead. I saw the headlines: Malfoy Family Wiped Out By You-Know-Who's Attack. What could I have done? I've been living in the Forbidden Forest all these months, waiting to redeem myself to the world."
Cho's eyes had filled with tears during this speech. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. Harry, mellowing slightly, prompted, "Please continue."
"Twenty-nine days ago, in the dead of night, an epic battle took place at the cliff near the edge of the Forbidden Forest." Harry noted that Draco had not lost the skill of milking scenes for all they were worth, either. "The Dark Lord sought to destroy Harry Potter once and for all. He failed. Their struggle blew my shelter to smithereens. So naturally I left it and went to investigate the commotion. I arrived to see the Dark Lord dead, and Harry Potter hanging off the edge of the cliff by his fingertips. The rest is history."
He shrugged the blanket off, and Harry saw his hands - the fair, long fingers that had been firmly imprinted in his memory. "I'd better be off, the rain has stopped." Cho interceded, "Oh no, not at this ungodly hour. You can stay the night here, and in the morning we'll discuss this further." Harry inclined his head, then went to fetch mattresses. They were unrolled in the nursery, beside the slumbering James. "He looks like you, Harry," smiled Draco.
In the morning, James raced out of the nursery, squalling at the top of his little lungs. "Mummy!! Daddy!! There's a boy in my bedroom!!" Cho took the nearly-hysterical boy onto her lap. At that point, Draco emerged from the room, rubbing his eyes and smoothing back his rumpled hair. Harry made a snap decision. "Well, my boy," he began, patting James on the head. "It's a long story…"
THEND
A/N: Like it? R/R please! If you want a sequel (or even a prequel) then say so! If I get enough requests then I will write one! This was meant to be a serious story when it started out, but I simply HAD to put all those sarcastic (or otherwise) comments in the brackets. I have a bad feeling that bracket sarcasm will play a big part in upcoming stories… so look out!! Heheheeaheeaaheaa *laughs maniacally* Bfn --Sera
--This was one of the first fics I wrote, but I decided not to upload it because, frankly, it isn't one of my best efforts. But (to hell with it) it's April Fool's Day and I am on a high and I'm like, why not?--
A/N: Okay, I was going to write a cliché but I've just finished writing a fic based on 'The Call' by (grand masters of music) BSB!!! BSB rocks!!! Anyway, that fic was really depressing and as a result I'm really not in the mood for a cliché. so I'm going to write my other idea for a story, "Unexpected Guests" It's set after Hogwarts, Harry is married to Cho....enjoy!!
Voldemort is dead, Harry reflected, as he hung off the edge of the nearly-vertical cliff face. It didn't help in the least to comfort him, faced with the fact that in two minutes or less, he was likely to follow suit. His fingers were going numb; he winced as the sharp winds bit into his back. His trusty wand was in the most useless position of all: on the ledge. Wand up, himself down. Well, at least I'll see my parents, he thought sarcastically as his frozen fingers began releasing their death grip on the tuft of grass… I love you, Cho, as his fingers gave way.
A hand reached down, pale fingers encircling his wrist. Another reached down, fingertips grasping his. Within scant moments, he found himself being hauled up, and was lying gasping on the grassy ledge. I thought I'd used up the last of my 39572 lives, he marveled. (A/N: He's not a cat, he's a Harry Potter, which is why he has 39572 lives not 9 and he needs them all to protect himself from fanfic authors like myself who keep killing him off!! Hehehe, just my little joke) It struck him that he was being especially rude; this guy had just saved his life. He sat up, enthusing, "Thank you thank you thank you" only to see a flash of silver and a hooded figure Disapparating. "Who are you?" he whispered into the darkness.
A/N I was going to end it there and only finish it if you pplz wanted a sequel, BUT I realized 3 important things: 1. I hate when people do that to me 2. I hate stories that come in parts 3. This story is only 2 paragraphs long as of yet... so...
A month after Harry's brush with death (not the first, and not likely to be the last either) him and Cho were resting in the lounge of their spacious home. Their 3-year old son, James Sirius potter, had just been put to bed. It was raining heavily, and Cho had just glanced outside and muttered, "I don't envy anyone caught in that deluge," when there was a knock on the door. Harry pulled it open. Outside stood a handsome, if somewhat bedraggled, young man with silver-blond hair and grey eyes. (I'm sure you've realised who it is by now) A smile flickered on his lips, and his posture straightened to form that of a proud, noble bearing. "Harry Potter," was all he said "Can I come in?" Then he crumpled to the floor.
Harry just managed to catch him before his head came into contact with the door frame, and looked helplessly at Cho. "Bring him in," she ordered, instantly transforming into Miss Efficiency, and choosing to ignore the fact that their uninvited visitor was dripping rainwater all over the mahogany floorboards. She summoned up a large towel (whether by magic or otherwise is irrelevant) and wrapped it around the youth's shivering form. By the time he regained consciousness, he was in dry clothes (Harry's, and a bit too big for him, but that's also irrelevant), wrapped up in blankets, and reposing near the fire. "Thank you," he murmured.
Cho broke the silence, asking a question that had been hanging in the air unspoken ever since his arrival. "Who are you??" Harry nodded in agreement. Something about the stranger looked familiar - very familiar - something was nagging at the back of his mind that he felt he should recognize...
"What, you've forgotten me already?" the voice was mildly sarcastic, but free of malice "I'm deeply wounded"
Harry felt as though he had been shot. He'd placed the voice - the face had changed too much for him to know it, and even though the drawling characteristic of the voice had been lost, the nuances remained - and they were enough. He looked up slowly. "Draco Malfoy" he said haltingly "You're supposed to be dead."
"Don't think I don't know that," came the reply. "Sorry to disappoint the masses, but I'm very much alive. It turns out I was only a little bit dead, and so here I am! What have you to say to that, Harry?"
Harry paused, deep in pensive thought. "I didn't know we were on first-name terms, Malfoy." Draco had, at that moment, spotted Cho. "My dear lady," he was declaring. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Harry is indeed lucky to have such a talented… and exquisite … wife." Cho giggled and blushed. Apparently the years had not worn down Draco's charm too much.
"Malfoy," Harry butted in, interrupting Cho's answer. "Why are you here? How did you survive? The Ministry said that there were no survivors."
Draco spat bitterly, "They lied. They saw me there, trapped under the rubble of my family's mansion. They heard my cries for help. My mother and father had been killed in the initial onslaught. The Ministry team left me there for dead. I saw the headlines: Malfoy Family Wiped Out By You-Know-Who's Attack. What could I have done? I've been living in the Forbidden Forest all these months, waiting to redeem myself to the world."
Cho's eyes had filled with tears during this speech. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. Harry, mellowing slightly, prompted, "Please continue."
"Twenty-nine days ago, in the dead of night, an epic battle took place at the cliff near the edge of the Forbidden Forest." Harry noted that Draco had not lost the skill of milking scenes for all they were worth, either. "The Dark Lord sought to destroy Harry Potter once and for all. He failed. Their struggle blew my shelter to smithereens. So naturally I left it and went to investigate the commotion. I arrived to see the Dark Lord dead, and Harry Potter hanging off the edge of the cliff by his fingertips. The rest is history."
He shrugged the blanket off, and Harry saw his hands - the fair, long fingers that had been firmly imprinted in his memory. "I'd better be off, the rain has stopped." Cho interceded, "Oh no, not at this ungodly hour. You can stay the night here, and in the morning we'll discuss this further." Harry inclined his head, then went to fetch mattresses. They were unrolled in the nursery, beside the slumbering James. "He looks like you, Harry," smiled Draco.
In the morning, James raced out of the nursery, squalling at the top of his little lungs. "Mummy!! Daddy!! There's a boy in my bedroom!!" Cho took the nearly-hysterical boy onto her lap. At that point, Draco emerged from the room, rubbing his eyes and smoothing back his rumpled hair. Harry made a snap decision. "Well, my boy," he began, patting James on the head. "It's a long story…"
THEND
A/N: Like it? R/R please! If you want a sequel (or even a prequel) then say so! If I get enough requests then I will write one! This was meant to be a serious story when it started out, but I simply HAD to put all those sarcastic (or otherwise) comments in the brackets. I have a bad feeling that bracket sarcasm will play a big part in upcoming stories… so look out!! Heheheeaheeaaheaa *laughs maniacally* Bfn --Sera