~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Title: The Year in Review
Author: Draco Volatile
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, material, and logos belong to J. K. Rowling. The plot -if there is one- belongs to
me.
Summary: Harry feels incomplete after leaving Hogwarts. He writes to Draco to help him feel better.
WARNING: Major D/H slash ahead.
A/N: I'm going to try like Lauren suggested and stay away from the Internet . . . You guys are right, it's time they met in
person. They'll meet in Hogsmeade in Chapter 12 or 13.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 11 - This is Where You'll Stay
~*~*~
"Malcolm . . . Malgen . . . Where's Malfoy?" Harry frantically scanned the page of the phone book in search of Draco's number.
"It should be right here, shouldn't it?" he pointed at the spot between Malcolm and Malgen. "Wait a moment . . . Of course he
won't have a telephone! His parents are wizards!" Harry threw down the book, disgusted with himself.
"BOY!" Uncle Vernon bellowed from downstairs. "Get over here!"
Harry hid the phone book under the bed and hurried downstairs.
"You," Uncle Vernon snarled. "You've been fooling around with my computer!"
"No I haven't," Harry lied.
"Don't lie to me! I've checked the history, and you've been to all sorts of chat rooms and e-mail pages! And you've
downloaded some rubbish that I can't remove!"
Harry's throat suddenly felt very dry. "I don't know what you're talking about, Uncle. But I haven't downloaded anything!"
Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry by the back of his pajama shirt and dragged him into his office. He threw Harry down in front of
the computer and pointed at the screen where the instant messenger showed up. "That, boy, is what you downloaded! And don't
tell me you didn't, because your aunt and your cousin didn't do it! And I certainly didn't do it, either!"
"But-"
"ERASE IT! ERASE IT, BOY!" Uncle Vernon pointed to the instant messenger. "Get this shit off my computer!"
Harry set a trembling hand on the mouse and dragged the instant messenger into the trash can on the bottom left corner of the
screen. A bubble came up: 'Are you sure you want to send this item to the Trash Can?'
"CLICK 'YES', BOY! CLICK IT!"
Reluctantly, Harry clicked it and the instant messenger was gone. Uncle Vernon unplugged the computer and lifted Harry right
off his feet once again.
"I'll teach you to fool with my computer!" Uncle Vernon threw Harry across the room. He handed in a heap on the floor.
* * *
"Draco, dear?" Narcissa Malfoy caught her son's attention by tapping her fork on his glass of orange juice.
"Yeah, Mum?" Draco looked up from his breakfast.
"I need to talk to you when you're done eating."
"Alright."
After breakfast, Mrs. Malfoy brought Draco into the family den. She turned on the computer.
"The computer? What's it got to do with this?" Draco asked.
"A lot."
Draco slowly put two and two together. "You haven't found . . . You haven't seen . . ."
Mrs. Malfoy opened the history and selected three items. "Your father found these last night after you went to bed. He wasn't
pleased at all."
"What l-links are th-those?" Draco stuttered. His face lost the very little color that it had had in the first place.
"Gaymen.com?" Mrs. Malfoy asked softly. "Pimp.com?"
"Mum, I swear I haven't . . ."
"Teensex.com?" Mrs. Malfoy's voice cracked slightly. "Draco . . . Is there something you aren't telling us?"
"Like what?"
"Why are you looking at porn?"
"I'm not! Mum, why don't you believe me?"
"Well, I suppose . . . Your father and I didn't do it, which leaves you, dear."
"MUM!"
"Don't deny it, Draco. Your father is very upset. I have to ask that you stay off the computer for a while, at least until
your father puts a few blocks on the Internet."
Lucius Malfoy had been standing in the doorway, his arms crossed. He cleared his throat loudly. Mrs. Malfoy and Draco looked
up.
"Actually, I'm getting rid of this thing today!" Mr. Malfoy shouted. "It's putting bad thoughts into your mind, Draco! I
expect you to behave like the well-brought-up and decent boy you were before this computer defaced your mind! It-will-be-gone!"
Mr. Malfoy smacked his hand on the table.
"I'm sorry, Father," Draco muttered.
"That's not all I found! I also found your instant messenger! Who is 'GryffSeeker101'?" Mr. Malfoy inquired.
"It's Crabbe," Draco lied.
"No! It's that Potter kid! Gryffindor Seeker! Don't you lie to me!" Mr. Malfoy slapped his son on the face. Draco winced.
"Lucius!" Mrs. Malfoy cried.
"Narcissa," Mr. Malfoy said with a nasty smirk. "Our boy was talking to Harry Potter on the Internet."
"So?" Draco said. "What's wrong with Harry Potter?"
"What's *wrong* with him? What's *WRONG* with him?!" Mr. Malfoy repeated angrily. "Are you implying that you talked to Potter
on your own will?!"
"Yes," Draco said boldly. "I talked to him on my own will."
"AND WHAT, MAY I ASK, DID YOU TALK TO HIM ABOUT?!" Mr. Malfoy roared, his blond hair contrasting oddly with his tomato-red
face.
"And why, may I ask, do you want to know?" Draco said, surprised at his own bravery.
"You will answer me truthfully!"
"Fuck you." Draco pulled away from his mother and fled from the room. Mr. Malfoy chased after him.
"You get your sorry ass back here!" Mr. Malfoy grabbed Draco's arm, and, nearly ripping it from its socket, threw Draco onto
the floor. "Stupid boy!"
"Father?" Draco stared up at the merciless man.
Mr. Malfoy lifted Draco again, and he Apparated them to Hogsmeade. They appeared on a crowded street by Honeydukes.
"You stupid, stupid boy! What have I always been telling you about Potter?!"
"Why are we here?" Draco ignored his father.
"Because this is where you'll stay," Mr. Malfoy explained silkily. "You're not living in my house anymore."
"What?!"
"You've disgraced me, Draco. You'll find somewhere else to live now."
"I can't! You can't!"
"You're seventeen. You can take care of yourself."
"NO!"
"YES!"
Draco hung his head in defeat.
"And don't try finding your way back, boy. You're not living in my house. You're not my son." Mr. Malfoy Disapparated without
another word.
With no desire to get trampled by passing wizards and witches, Draco slumped onto the side of the road, out of the way.
~*~*~
Title: The Year in Review
Author: Draco Volatile
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, material, and logos belong to J. K. Rowling. The plot -if there is one- belongs to
me.
Summary: Harry feels incomplete after leaving Hogwarts. He writes to Draco to help him feel better.
WARNING: Major D/H slash ahead.
A/N: I'm going to try like Lauren suggested and stay away from the Internet . . . You guys are right, it's time they met in
person. They'll meet in Hogsmeade in Chapter 12 or 13.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 11 - This is Where You'll Stay
~*~*~
"Malcolm . . . Malgen . . . Where's Malfoy?" Harry frantically scanned the page of the phone book in search of Draco's number.
"It should be right here, shouldn't it?" he pointed at the spot between Malcolm and Malgen. "Wait a moment . . . Of course he
won't have a telephone! His parents are wizards!" Harry threw down the book, disgusted with himself.
"BOY!" Uncle Vernon bellowed from downstairs. "Get over here!"
Harry hid the phone book under the bed and hurried downstairs.
"You," Uncle Vernon snarled. "You've been fooling around with my computer!"
"No I haven't," Harry lied.
"Don't lie to me! I've checked the history, and you've been to all sorts of chat rooms and e-mail pages! And you've
downloaded some rubbish that I can't remove!"
Harry's throat suddenly felt very dry. "I don't know what you're talking about, Uncle. But I haven't downloaded anything!"
Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry by the back of his pajama shirt and dragged him into his office. He threw Harry down in front of
the computer and pointed at the screen where the instant messenger showed up. "That, boy, is what you downloaded! And don't
tell me you didn't, because your aunt and your cousin didn't do it! And I certainly didn't do it, either!"
"But-"
"ERASE IT! ERASE IT, BOY!" Uncle Vernon pointed to the instant messenger. "Get this shit off my computer!"
Harry set a trembling hand on the mouse and dragged the instant messenger into the trash can on the bottom left corner of the
screen. A bubble came up: 'Are you sure you want to send this item to the Trash Can?'
"CLICK 'YES', BOY! CLICK IT!"
Reluctantly, Harry clicked it and the instant messenger was gone. Uncle Vernon unplugged the computer and lifted Harry right
off his feet once again.
"I'll teach you to fool with my computer!" Uncle Vernon threw Harry across the room. He handed in a heap on the floor.
* * *
"Draco, dear?" Narcissa Malfoy caught her son's attention by tapping her fork on his glass of orange juice.
"Yeah, Mum?" Draco looked up from his breakfast.
"I need to talk to you when you're done eating."
"Alright."
After breakfast, Mrs. Malfoy brought Draco into the family den. She turned on the computer.
"The computer? What's it got to do with this?" Draco asked.
"A lot."
Draco slowly put two and two together. "You haven't found . . . You haven't seen . . ."
Mrs. Malfoy opened the history and selected three items. "Your father found these last night after you went to bed. He wasn't
pleased at all."
"What l-links are th-those?" Draco stuttered. His face lost the very little color that it had had in the first place.
"Gaymen.com?" Mrs. Malfoy asked softly. "Pimp.com?"
"Mum, I swear I haven't . . ."
"Teensex.com?" Mrs. Malfoy's voice cracked slightly. "Draco . . . Is there something you aren't telling us?"
"Like what?"
"Why are you looking at porn?"
"I'm not! Mum, why don't you believe me?"
"Well, I suppose . . . Your father and I didn't do it, which leaves you, dear."
"MUM!"
"Don't deny it, Draco. Your father is very upset. I have to ask that you stay off the computer for a while, at least until
your father puts a few blocks on the Internet."
Lucius Malfoy had been standing in the doorway, his arms crossed. He cleared his throat loudly. Mrs. Malfoy and Draco looked
up.
"Actually, I'm getting rid of this thing today!" Mr. Malfoy shouted. "It's putting bad thoughts into your mind, Draco! I
expect you to behave like the well-brought-up and decent boy you were before this computer defaced your mind! It-will-be-gone!"
Mr. Malfoy smacked his hand on the table.
"I'm sorry, Father," Draco muttered.
"That's not all I found! I also found your instant messenger! Who is 'GryffSeeker101'?" Mr. Malfoy inquired.
"It's Crabbe," Draco lied.
"No! It's that Potter kid! Gryffindor Seeker! Don't you lie to me!" Mr. Malfoy slapped his son on the face. Draco winced.
"Lucius!" Mrs. Malfoy cried.
"Narcissa," Mr. Malfoy said with a nasty smirk. "Our boy was talking to Harry Potter on the Internet."
"So?" Draco said. "What's wrong with Harry Potter?"
"What's *wrong* with him? What's *WRONG* with him?!" Mr. Malfoy repeated angrily. "Are you implying that you talked to Potter
on your own will?!"
"Yes," Draco said boldly. "I talked to him on my own will."
"AND WHAT, MAY I ASK, DID YOU TALK TO HIM ABOUT?!" Mr. Malfoy roared, his blond hair contrasting oddly with his tomato-red
face.
"And why, may I ask, do you want to know?" Draco said, surprised at his own bravery.
"You will answer me truthfully!"
"Fuck you." Draco pulled away from his mother and fled from the room. Mr. Malfoy chased after him.
"You get your sorry ass back here!" Mr. Malfoy grabbed Draco's arm, and, nearly ripping it from its socket, threw Draco onto
the floor. "Stupid boy!"
"Father?" Draco stared up at the merciless man.
Mr. Malfoy lifted Draco again, and he Apparated them to Hogsmeade. They appeared on a crowded street by Honeydukes.
"You stupid, stupid boy! What have I always been telling you about Potter?!"
"Why are we here?" Draco ignored his father.
"Because this is where you'll stay," Mr. Malfoy explained silkily. "You're not living in my house anymore."
"What?!"
"You've disgraced me, Draco. You'll find somewhere else to live now."
"I can't! You can't!"
"You're seventeen. You can take care of yourself."
"NO!"
"YES!"
Draco hung his head in defeat.
"And don't try finding your way back, boy. You're not living in my house. You're not my son." Mr. Malfoy Disapparated without
another word.
With no desire to get trampled by passing wizards and witches, Draco slumped onto the side of the road, out of the way.
~*~*~
